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certainly at that of the next
block--St. Andrew's Mansions.”
“Did you hear, or see anything else?”
“I saw nothing whatever. But just as I approached the street door, I
heard a peculiar whistle, apparently proceeding from the gardens in the
center of the square. I attached no importance to it at the time.”
“What kind of whistle?”
“I have forgotten the actual notes, but the effect was very odd in some
way.”
“In what way?”
“An impression of this sort is not entirely reliable, Inspector; but it
struck me as Oriental.”
“Ah!” said Dunbar, and reached out the long arm for his notebook.
“Can I be of any further assistance?” said Exel, glancing at his watch.
“You had entered the hall-way and were about to enter your own flat when
the voices of Dr. Cumberly and Mr. Leroux attracted your attention?”
“I actually had the key in my hand,” replied Exel.
“Did you actually have the key in the lock?”
“Let me think,” mused Exel, and he took out a bunch of keys and dangled
them, reflectively, before his eyes. “No! I was fumbling for the right
key when I heard the voices above me.”
“But were you facing your door?”
“No,” averred Exel, perceiving the drift of the inspector's inquiries;
“I was facing the stairway the whole time, and although it was in
darkness, there is a street lamp immediately outside on the pavement,
and I can swear, positively, that no one descended; that there was no
one in the hall nor on the stair, except Mr. Leroux and Dr. Cumberly.”
“Ah!” said Dunbar again, and made further entries in his book. “I need
not trouble you further, sir. Good night!”
Exel, despite his earlier attitude of boredom, now ignored this official
dismissal, and, tossing the stump of his cigar into the grate, lighted a
cigarette, and with both hands thrust deep in his pockets, stood leaning
back against the mantelpiece. The detective turned to Leroux.
“Have a brandy-and-soda?” suggested Dr. Cumberly, his eyes turned upon
the pathetic face of the novelist.
But Leroux shook his head, wearily.
“Go ahead, Inspector!” he said. “I am anxious to tell you all I know.
God knows I am anxious to tell you.”
A sound was heard of a key being inserted in the lock of a door.
Four pairs of curious eyes were turned toward the entrance lobby, when
the door opened, and a sleek man of medium height, clean shaven, but
with his hair cut low upon the cheek bones, so as to give the impression
of short side-whiskers, entered in a manner at once furtive and servile.
He wore a black overcoat and a bowler hat. Reclosing the door, he
turned, perceived the group in the study, and fell back as though
someone had struck him a fierce blow.
Abject terror was written upon his features, and, for a moment, the idea
of flight appeared to suggest itself urgently to him; but finally, he
took a step forward toward the study.
“Who's this?” snapped Dunbar, without removing his leonine eyes from the
newcomer.
“It is Soames,” came the weary voice of Leroux.
“Butler?”
“Yes.”
“Where's he been?”
“I don't know. He remained out without my permission.”
“He did, eh?”
Inspector Dunbar thrust forth a long finger at the shrinking form in the
doorway.
“Mr. Soames,” he said, “you will be going to your own room and waiting
there until I ring for you.”
“Yes, sir,” said Soames, holding his hat in both bands, and speaking
huskily. “Yes, sir: certainly, sir.”
He crossed the lobby and disappeared.
“There is no other way out, is there?” inquired the detective, glancing
at Dr. Cumberly.
“There is no other way,” was the reply; “but surely you don't
suspect”...
“I would suspect the Archbishop of Westminster,” snapped Dunbar, “if
he came in like that! Now, sir,”--he turned to Leroux--“you were alone,
here, to-night?”
“Quite alone, Inspector. The truth is, I fear, that my servants take
liberties in the absence of my wife.”
“In the absence of your wife? Where is your wife?”
“She is in Paris.”
“Is she a Frenchwoman?”
“No! oh, no! But my wife is a painter, you understand, and--er--I met
her in Paris--er--... Must you insist upon these--domestic particulars,
Inspector?”
“If Mr. Exel is anxious to turn in,” replied the inspector, “after his
no doubt exhausting duties at the House, and if Dr. Cumberly--”
“I have no secrets from Cumberly!” interjected Leroux. “The doctor
has known me almost from boyhood, but--er--” turning to the
politician--“don't you know, Exel--no offense, no offense”...
“My dear Leroux,” responded Exel hastily, “I am the offender! Permit me
to wish you all good night.”
He crossed the study, and, at the door, paused and turned.
“Rely upon me, Leroux,” he said, “to help in any way within my power.”
He crossed the lobby, opened the outer door, and departed.
“Now, Mr. Leroux,” resumed Dunbar, “about this matter of your wife's
absence.”
A WINDOW IS OPENED
Whilst Henry Leroux collected his thoughts, Dr. Cumberly glanced across
at