Resting his chin in his hands, he began to read from the typewritten pages before him.  His assistant’s report was conceived as follows: 

’Re Mr. Nicol Brinn of Raleigh House, Piccadilly, W. I.

’Mr. Nicol Brinn is an American citizen, born at Cincinnati, Ohio, February 15, 1884.  He is the son of John Nicolas Brinn of the same city, founder of the firm of J. Nicolas Brinn, Incorporated, later reconstituted under the style of Brinn’s Universal Electric Supply Corporation.

’Nicol Brinn is a graduate of Harvard.  He has travelled extensively in nearly all parts of the world and has access to the best society of Europe and America.  He has a reputation for eccentricity, has won numerous sporting events as a gentleman rider; was the first airman to fly over the Rockies; took part in the Uruguay rebellion of 1904, and held the rank of lieutenant colonel of field artillery with the American forces during the Great War.

’He has published a work on big game and has contributed numerous travel articles to American periodicals.  On the death of Mr. Brinn, senior, in 1914, he inherited an enormous fortune and a preponderating influence in the B.U.E.S.C.  He has never taken any active part in conduct of the concern, but has lived a restless and wandering life in various parts of the world.

’Mr. Nicol Brinn is a confirmed bachelor.  I have been unable to find that he has ever taken the slightest interest in any woman other than his mother throughout his career.  Mrs. J. Nicolas Brinn is still living in Cincinnati, and there is said to be a strong bond of affection between mother and son.  His movements on yesterday, 4th June, 1921, were as follows: 

’He came out of his chambers at eight o’clock and rode for an hour in the park, when he returned and remained indoors until midday.  He then drove to the Carlton, where he lunched with the Foreign Secretary, with whom he remained engaged in earnest conversation until ten minutes to three.  The Rt.  Hon. gentleman proceeded to the House of Commons and Mr. Brinn to an auction at Christie’s.  He bought two oil paintings.  He then returned to his chambers and did not reappear again until seven o’clock.  He dined alone at a small and unfashionable restaurant in Soho, went on to his box at Covent Garden, where he remained for an hour, also alone, and then went home.  He had no callers throughout the day.’

Deliberately Paul Harley had read the report, only removing his hand from his chin to turn over the pages.  Now from the cabinet at his elbow he took out his tin of tobacco and, filling and lighting a pipe, lay back, eyes half closed, considering what he had learned respecting Nicol Brinn.

That he was concerned in the death of Sir Charles Abingdon he did not believe for a moment; but that this elusive case, which upon investigation only seemed the more obscure, was nevertheless a case of deliberate murder he was as firmly convinced as ever.  Of the identity of the murderer, of his motive, he had not the haziest idea, but that the cloud which he had pictured as overhanging the life of the late Sir Charles was a reality and not a myth of the imagination he became more completely convinced with each new failure to pick up a clue.