The Cardiff Times

B N B N N B B N' B ream i ^ing a, further Volume of ths Memoirs of Sir Nig. Lacaita, FC.C.B of Scotland Yard, V By W. A. MACKENZIE, Authpr>of His Majesty's Peacock," The Bite of the Le*ch.» The Glittmn* Road," &c., &c. s v CHAPTER VII. "Wle StattamCtafes om the Beau's Neck. NQ. saiil WillimgaJe," the simplest plan is ^waty» t&e lxwt. Aud here the simplest is not the most direct. If we go plump to the Doc awflbsay, 'Haa^d overtfcejewels, and follow us Wai.cab,"he wul juA Jangh in our faces. No, sir, w aonsfchaaro something more to go upon. What have we doneC Just established a few factor—that is aiJL*" Fact Number '06 The DiicV abartments aijoin Mfcs Dro*el?s." **• Faofc Number Two. -NlrsDt-exo-ls bedroom doer-ws* open whfclo tshe was in hep dressing- samn- Fact -Nuinbeelluee- The Due has boot- polish like that found- on the carpet in Mrs RrexoFs bedroom. Fact Number Feiur.* The Due uses a paper- ring pencil, the pope r of* which is similar to the mtrajr found in Mrs- DreseTs bedroom. "Fact Number i.?ive. The setting of the jeweLa has been found joy Lord Drake under a bushinthegarden. That is aH we to go and come on at present. It is strong- circumstantial evi- dqftt* but iA is not etiough for us, sir. You knew as- wett as I do, ar, that you believe in giving a mail plenty ttf rope, sure that he will hang himself in the end. Yes, I rfo. Wilffagalet'* said I. Rut in the present easel feel iochtratd to act promptly and that for two reaseaas* — firstly, if the Due should happen to be the Ujief, we are bound to come across some little- bit of confirmatory evidence when we are-searching him—no man is eiever enough to rvrfrembw everything: and. secondly, it he- is irmeee-nit- -well, to me it docs not seem fair to L-eep, hiuM-B tder suspicion. To whieb I would req sir. with all due deference—you are mv supt vol or. and J have but to obey your orders—that, firstly, if the Due is a criminal, and has been clever enough to itn poro on iorct. Drake to Mte extent of getting admittance into Hoe AkL- it clever enough to look after fchfi<:suppcessiau»o £ evidence against b.imsey-the spoa ol boot-cm irn and the morsel of paper are things it -0 dd-n6Qd an -Dget to have foreseen-auli, secondly. Jf be is innocent he suffers na hasten by being t-.mtlerga--Picion. The only thins: that wonKi rnafr1 me suarch him is that he asked to. he seltrcbaxi." you said a little 'VW.'I ago that Jiis say. ing that was a prool^that t,hal'!?' was no need to so." Time. Unless he relied on our acting so. All the sane, if thi-al- the- bestrplan is to let him ZO out and have him wafcchecLvwell» If he has got the jewels he will try and dispose-of them in some way. Then we pan have him without causing any scaadal in Hoe House, which I Birders tand yon wisfe*to prevewt. AnfLbesides we want some time to rake up hisantece. lents." Very well," said I. I daresay" you are right, Willingale." "Shall I telephone to theVYard,»sir, for a souple of men to follow hi in ?" loade him to do so. and then passed unto the hall, amd famd the One sfcfft there. Well, Sir Nigel." he cried as soon as be taw me. tartliRg his steadv gaze full ^on my hire yeuarrested. anybody yet" No," said I, not yet. But vou are going to, soon ?** Soon? Perhaps, ffcrfc at all events, I have the pfea«nrre to tell ywa that vou, need no longer remain inside on such a gk>rious after- noon- You are free." Free!" he echoed. Was I anything else OS course npt," Irejooed. yOldyevery- body in the house liaj been a sort olr temporary pdisoner-that is all. Now. everybody is free to come and go as pteasw bids." w Now, that's real kiwi of Put in raoxel, coming out of the library at that moooeat- The hour approaches I under- stand. when your English aristocracy ride aoout in Hyde Park—dispensing-nods-to poor Kllations on the penny seats, and criticising the cfotjfos? qf «Hj,er s^rwtocrats. I do pot wish to looae seeing so elevating » spectacle.-1 You ire forsaking your role of epigram- matist," said L for the lower one of ithe ill. informed. cynic." Drwwl laughed. If he editor of the San Fran Examiner -from which my knpjrtetfge of your upper Hundred Twenty Thousand is drawn- ,a. here, I darsesay he'd be able to give you a few poinla. What he doesn't know aoout your blue blood isn't worth knowing." And what he does know." said I, is very liketv of the same value." Now, Agir Nigel." said Drexel, you musn't aDow your failure to locate the tbiefito inter- fere with your notions of justice." >' flow "do you know I have.failed to locate 'V thief ?" said I, with as mroch pleasantness could get into my voice under such cir- stance? Well, yo i've not arrested anybody, have >" Vot yet," said I. 00 you bet, Sir Nigel ?" Well, I generally have a sovereign or so on the Derby beyond that, never." Will you fix up a wager with me What sort of wager ?" Wen, now, III. lav you-" Don't be rash," said the Due. "You evi- ,-lently don't know anything about Sir Nigel Lacaita's reputation. Didn't your San Fran. Examiner tell you the "story of-u M Oh I know all about that, and that's ftlst why I want to fix my wager with him. I lay you all the jewels in the Drexel Dream that you don't find the thief inside a year." But I have nothing worthy to set against such a- r That doesn't matter. Ill lay those jewels againit nothing." Oh 1 but I couldn't do that," said 1. more Han a little embarrassed. Then you show you have no faith in your- >K w your men." Tfow, that's not fair," said Y; position was a curious one. I could haidl7 take such a ridiculous bet—one, more- over, w-ia-u I felt morally certain I should win and to refuse would look like having no confidence in my own department. "Fair 1" he answered. Why, it's quite fair: Its a case of heads I don't win, tails I lose. Score up one on my tally of epigrams Sir, Nigel." Yery well," said 1. Only- I hope to have my hand upon the thief within a week." Shake," said he. You're a bold man to My so much- Shake." In Translantic phraseology, we shook You're a witness, Due," said Drexel. I'm a witness, sir," said the Due. "We entered, into somegeneral conversation for a few minutes, and then, when I aurmised that the -men I had ordered from the Yard were in attendance, I took my leave, Willingale re- tnaining behind to continue what I tho\ight fruitless investigations..As a matter of fact, I was right—his search was fruitless. I bad better Joclt.for luck one must call events. that happen opportunely. And for the purposes of the rlis- covery of -the Drexel Dream, nothing could have happened more opportunely (I must use that word abominably callous, though it may obund) that the murder, the seemingly sense- less murder of ffouikes ..kbuey, the poor old Beau. The Beau was such an inoffensive old fellow, 80 inoffensive, so retiring—" he is as apologetic as a little white rabbit," said Drake once, not unkindly-that all the London that knew him was moved with horror when the news spread. What had such, a. quiet, peaceful man done to deserve so terrible an end ? And who had done the ghastly deed ? Being the head of a great detective force, was naturally almost the la.;t to hear of the tragedy. It was not until I got back to the Yard that I had the facts from Lascelles, the clever young inspector whom you may ieniember as having- taken part in the case of His Majesty's Peacock." Here are the facts, ffoulkes-Abney had been met at Victoria bv man, Parkinson, and together they had £ rvve& straight to the Albany where the Beau hadjiis moaest chambers. He breakfasted,not very1 he&rtily, as soon as he arrived, and then saying he would rest for an hour or two, lay down in his dressing-gown on a sofa strung to the front of the fire. He desired to be awakened a little after mid-dav, so that he might dress and get to his club in time for fewdncn. I've heard no town gossip for three weeks," he said. Parkinson tucked a rug about him, and retired to attend to a few ihings about the chambers. At a quarter past eleven he looked into the sitting-room and saw that his master was sound asleep Whereupon he left tbe flat and went to exe- cute a commission at his master's bootmaker's In Conduit-street. Parkisou closed the outer door when he left, and it was shut whfon he returned. He went about his duties until ten minutes put twelve, when he entered the sit- ting room to awake his master. This was the sight that met his eyes. The table whichtisualiy occupied the centre ..Of the room was pushed to one side, and in the space thus freed lay ffoulkes-Abney. If is diessing-ewn was open at the ncck his scant fair was In disorder his tongue was lolling out of his owuth his eyes were wide and staring and his face was purple. Parkinson thought at firstthat his master had fallen in a fit, and rnsbed to his assistance. But a glance at the old gentleman's neck showed him that foul work bad been done for on the skin were the marks of fingers deeply imprinted. Parkinson touched the corpse-for corpse it was—and found it warm. At once he rushed down the stairs and out into Piccadilly, where he speedily found a policeman. Together they returned to the Chambers; as soon ad the constable had des- f I patched another officer for a doctor. After making as sure as he could that life was extinct the constable stood on guard to see that nothing in the room was niovei from its position. A doctor soon arrived, but could do nothing he gave it as his opinion that life had been extinct tor nearly three quarters of an hour. The second constable, after having summoned the doctor, had telephoned to Scotland Yard, and Lascelles himself went up to the Albany I give his report in his own words as nearly as pomible Mir ffoulk-es-Abney'si rooms arcouttie second floor, No. on the rislit hand side. The chambers consist of four apartments, one used as a sitting-room and dining-room, one as a bedroom, one small one as a bath-oom, and one as a kitchen and pantry combined. Farkicson, who I may mention is an old soldier and has been Mr ffoulkes-Abney's servant for the last fifteen and a half yeais, sleeps in another part of the buiiding. "I entered the sitting-rooin first, saw the body, and heard what the doctor had to say. His verdict was: Death by strangulation—or rather by compression of the throat.' Without moving the body we made a careful examina- tion oi it, and the doctor, being able to draw a little, was kind enough to make a sketch of the finger marks on the neck. The only thing of note about these marki is their unusual size. The hands which inflicted death are un- doubtedly large hands, and, consequently, the murderer must have been either a man of tall stature or one whose hands arc strangely out of proportion to his body. The first man, naturally, oh whom to fix suspicion wus Parkinson, lie could easily have committed the crime, and after .Vcinls gone to the bootmaker's or gone to the bootmaker's first, and done the business afterwards. But Parkinson was soon ruled out of the question, for he is quite a slight man a,nd then he lacks the fourth linger of the left haud-a reminder of the Khyber Pass. Aud on each side of the dead man's neck were marks of all four lingers. Nothing in the room was missing. Thednad man's gold watch and chain lay on the table beside the sofa, while in his pockets we found three pounds in gold and four five pound Bank of England notes, as well as some small change. The object of the murder, then, was not robbery. That there bad been a struggle and a very determined one was evident. The table bad been pushed from the centre of the room, and the carpet between the sofa and the door was rucked, as if by violent pushing of feet. As Mr ffoulkes-Abney was wearing slippers, tlie.se marks could not very well have been caused by liim. You know Mr ffoulkes* Abney, I believe, sir, and. I am certain you must have observed that he wore his well-shaped finger-nails rather long. Indeed I learn from Parkinson that be took considerable pride in them. In a struggle for life I could not but thiuk that those finger nails would have played a not unimportant part. And 1 was right. By careful examination of them I found a few brown hairs—evidently scratched from Mje clothes of his murderer and under the nails of the fore and middle fingers of the left hand, I found two small pieces of skin which were undoubtedly torn from the face or hands of the murderer. Having made this last discovery, I immediately despatched a messenger to the Yard for assist- ance. Within ten minutes Hamilton joined me, and him f set to work at once to visit all the .chemists' shops within easy reach, and make inquiries as to any man wearing brown clothes who had bought sticking-plaster that morning between a quarter past eleven and twelve o'clock. While he wont about this business I re- sumed my examination of th 3 chambei-s. I investigated the bedroom first. Here was another surpriye. Parkinson informed me that that very morning, before going to Victoria Station, he had changed the sheets on Mr ffoulkes-Abney's bed, and made it up in his usual precise military fashion. And now, on the edge of the bed was a mark as if some person—and not a very light person either—had satdowr. hurriedly and heavily. Water from the ewer bad been poured into the wash-hand basin, and that water had a faint reddish- brown tinge. Could this mean that after finish- ing his foul work the murderer had made his way into the bedroom -and calmly washed the blood from tbe nail wounds on his face or hands ? And then on a comer of the mantel- piece I found this revolver -five-chambered and of German niak-e--loaded. At. this I oint Par- kinson suddenly remembered—what, in the hurry an i excitement of the moment he bad forgotten to mention before—that when he rushed out to summon the police he closed the outer door behind him, and that when he returned it was open and also that, as he was climbing the stairs he thought be heard somebody going up in front of him and mounting to the third storey. All these facts led me to formulate the following theory Shortly after Parkinson had gone to the bootmaker's in Conduit-street, the murderer— let us call him A.—rapped at Mr ffoulkes- Abney's door. The old gentleman was a light sleeper, and very likely awoke at once. Not hearing Parkinson answer, and the knocking continuing, "he answered the door himself. A. was admitted.and accompanied Nir ffoulkl-s- Abncy into the sitting room. What conversa- tion, if any, passed there, no one knows. This mnch is certain, however, that a struggle look place, that in that struggle Mr ffoulkes-Abney fought hard for his life, and succeeded in inflicting at least two skin wounds on A. but that the old gentleman, being weak, was soon done to death by him. The deed finished. A. was over- taken by that strange calm which always succeeds a violent crisis, and. becoming aware for the first time that he was bleeding, quietly and coolly sought the means of removing traces of blood. While he was thus engaged in the bedroom Parkinson returned. For the first time A. realised the precariousness of his posi- tion, and fear took him. Nay. more than fear —almost despair, fie sat down heavily on the bed, prepared to wait for discovery. But little by little his nerves regained their steadiness. He rose stealthily from his sitting position and drew out his revolver. Holding it in his left hand he waited for the bedroom door to open." Stop a moment! Stop a moment, Las- celles ? said I at this juncture. How are you so sure that he held his revolver in his left hand?" Perbaps, sir," he answered, I am a trifle precipitate in my conclusions. I can show you practically what I mean if you will allow me." Certainly certainly said 1. An ounce of practice is worth a ton of theory. Always remember that." I learned tbat. sir," said Lascelles, the first day I was in the force. To show you, then. It happens that the door and mantel- piece of this room are placed just as are the door and mantelpiece of Mr ffoulkes-Abney's bedroom. I have here the revolver which I found. I stand facing the door, and quite near it, holding the revolver in my right hand. I am waiting for someone to come in. I am in some terror of being discovered. But I bear that someone go out hurriedly by the front door. I have my. chance of escape. My first impulse is to open the door and look out but I have my revolver in my right hand. I must do something with it. Shall I put it in my pocket or shall I lay it down ? Whatever I do will be an un- conscious act. 1 lay it down on the mantel- piece—so—the butt will be towards the door, the mujzle towards the window, and.the bam mer towards myself. If. however, I am holding the revolver in my left hand, the muzzle will be towards the door, and the butt towards the window, and the hammer away from me; I can lav it down thus. and open the door at the same moment, thereby saving time." Not very much time. Lascellea," said I. Just the time," cried he, that it would take to pass the revolver from the left hand to the right; just the time to save one's neck when it is in jeopardy." Dm "said I. vour reasoning is plausible, bat you know the old saying, "The Vroof of the pudding.' etc. Go on with the rest of your theory." Having laid down his revolver from his left hand." said Lascellas, rather persistently I thought, and having opened the bedroom door, A. stood for a little while listening to the retreating footsteps of Parkinson. Indeed, he stood listening a little too long for when he descended and gained the bottom of the stairs he caught a glimpse through the glass doors on the left—of course you know the Albany sir- he caught a glimpse of Paxkinson returning with the constable. To emerge into the long and deserted alley would be to court instant suspicion so he turned and made upstairs agalu-tliis time passing Mr ffoulkes-Abney's door. Once Parkinson and the constable were in the sitting-room with the dead man, he crept cautiously down again and away. I am now waiting for Hamilton to return with his report fram the chemists' shops." By-the-bye," said I, did you think of sending for Gotriage to photograph 1" Ob. yes, sir," be replied. The same mes- senger that summoned Hamilton also sum- moned Gorringe and I should think that, by this time, be will have developed his plates, if not indeed printed them." Let us see," said I, and touched the bell. Gorringe has always a little of the mysterious About him. He likes to spring surprises or. his colleagues and superiors. And when he has a surprise up his sleeve, he is gonerailymore mys- terious than ever. As he entered the room on this occasion his face was that of a sphinx. You have discovered something unusu?4 ?" said I. Vbot unusual," he answered," but curious. It would be unusual if a murderer did not leave some trace of himself on his victim in this instance the trace is curious. The murderer of Mr IToulkes-Abney "—and lie stood back a pace to watch the effect of his announcement—" the murderer of Mr troulkes-Abnev wore on the middle linger of his left hand a broad silver ring with a representation on it in high relief of the Southern Cross." I am afraid Gorringe\s little surprise didn't quite come off. At any rate his face showed some disappointment at our lack of aston- ishment. •' \V:ell," said I, and how does that help us ?" One moment, if you piease," said Gorringe, so that I may explain. When the room was cleared for me to take mr photographs, I knelt down be.side the body to examine more closely the marks on the neck. If you look at this photograph, air, you will be able to follow me more clearly." Used as I am to all kinds of strange cases, used, too, to have to deal w th affairs in which some of my personal friends have been con- cerned, I could not. suppress a certain shudder of horror as 1 gazed on this picture o? the poor old Bean, from whom I had parted but a few hour. previously. Sudden shoeks of this sort affect one more deeply as one gets on in years -Dot that I am an old man yet and I confess that for a few moments I could not look on that slip of card without a feeling of horror. Steel- ing myself, ho.vever, I gawd at the presentment of all that was mortal of the poor Beau. Gorringe was a good photographer. The cruel lines in the thin neck seemed to stand out from the print like great furrows. In the centre ol the room lay Ffonlket Abney his dressing gowu open at the throat, _A Just look there, sir," said Gorringe, using his styiographic pen as a pointer look at the mark made by the middle finger of the murderer's left hand. You will see there is a little morc shadow at that part of the groove near the middle line. That shadow also exists in the skin of the body. I drew out my magni- fying glass, and with its aid perceived that at that particular point there was more extra- vasation of the capillary blood vessels than at any other point on either side of the neck. That led me to suppose that at that point pres- sure was greater than at any other-pressure caused by the ring; the conclusion is the aimplest thing in the world to arrive at. This led me to use another glass of higher magnifying power. With its aid I perceived a number of points discoloured more deeply than were the sur- rounding tissues—points arranged in such fashion as to simulate the position of the stars in the Southfit n Cross. Now, rings are, as a rule, made of two metals, gold or silver. Some years ago, in con- ducting some chemical experiments, f hit upon a differential test for gold and silver, so delicate that if a morsel of gold or silver be rubbed ever so lightly on a piece of paper, white cotton, white silk, or the human skin, my re-agent will indicate the presence of the metal, and dis- tinguish plainly whether it is gold or silver. •• You know my black bag, sir 1" I smiled assent Everybody at the Yard knew Gorringe's black bag, out of which he could produce, at a 'nod. anything from a needle to an pjachor. ,I Well, sir, in that black bag, which is the derision of those of my colleagues who have no great love for science, there is always a small bottle of my re-agent. I applied a little to that particular spot of the dead man's neck. In- stantly the answer was given-silver. And more than that. The pressure of that part of the ring in high relief being greater than that caused by the other parts of the ring, it stands to reason that more infinitesimal particles of the metal adhered to the skin. And my re-agent, being able to act on silver in what- ever quantity, naturally produced a deeper colour, at the parts where most silver was. If you will allow me for amoment togo and fetch another photograph—the printing should be finished by this time—you will have an opportunity of judging for yourself, sir." He left the room, and returned in a few momentowith a. still wet print—an enlargement. There could be no doubt about it, at least as far as the photograph went. 11 Then," said 1, putting your report and that of Lascelles together, what we have to seek for and find is a tall man, or one with hands large out of all proportion to his body, who wears a suit or an overcoat of some brown cloth, who bears on his face or his hands two scratches made by ffoulkes-Abrey's finger nails, who owned this five-chambered revolver, and who carries on the middle finger of his left hand a silver ring on which are raised in high relief the stars of the Southern Cross turned inwards." That is very good for a beginning," said Gorringe, patronisingly, half-turning away. And then, turning back again, be added lightly, Have you read Kipling, sir 1" I laughed. Re-A Kipling said I. It would be a puzzle to find anybody who hasn't." I drew out a magnifying glass and perceived numbers of points like the stars of the Southern Cross, Do you remember The End of the Passage ?" said Gorringe. "What!" said I, "that grim story of the man who was haunted by his own double ?" Exactly," said Gorrings. Tf you care to wait, sir, for half an hour or so. J think I shall be able to show you a portrait I found in Mr ffoulkes-Abney's eyes which will rather startle you." Holding the door open, he looked back again, and said with a laugh. I believe in keeping my best wine for the end of the feast." CHAPTER VIM. Pierre--and the Usefulness of Kipling. Lascelles," said]. when Gorringe had left the room, you have, I hope, preserved care- fully the little strips of skin you found beneath Mr ffoulkes-Abney's finger nails ?" Yea, sir, I have them here." And pro- ducing his pocket-book, he drew out the folded piece of paper in which he had wrapped them for greater safety. Perhaps," I went on, perhaps Gorringe may be able to help us here. Let him examiue them and see if be can tell us if they are torn from a hand or from the face." He'll be a clever fellow if he can, sir," said Lascelles, and, mentally. I agreed with him. "Go and see," said I." if Hamilton has re turned with his report and discovered any clue at the chemists' shops." Lascelles left me. In my experience of life—school,army,police, social-I have noted one thing over and over again, and I am never tired of repeating it. If you have chanced to read any of the memoirs 1 have already given to the world, you may be likely to remember that on many occasions I have said, It is always the unexpected that happens." I have to repeat that commonplaci here; and I must comment on it so far as to sav that it is only the man who takes care. to expect the unexpected "—if the bull is allow- able—who manages to pull things off. Remem- ber, I do not say expect the improbable or expect the impossible "—merely, the un- expected." MP Left to myself, I began running over in my mind all the events of the last three days, be- ginning with the dinner at the Cafe Anglais. [ And as event after event flashed through my mind, just as telegraph posts-fty past your car- riage window, I found myself, so to say, put- ting my head out of the window "to see what unexpected station I was to arrive at. Unex- pected things had happened already: the suspicious—call it "meeting" for want of a better word—the suspicious meeting between the Due di Saralunu. and Billy the Twister the episode of the empty envelope with the South. ern Vrons in red stars; the Channel crossing and the unexpected appearance of the Due; the disappearance of the Droxel Dream, and the circumstantial implication of the Due the arrival in Lendon of Billy the Twister and Mademoiselle Calrnette: the murder of ffoulkes- Abney, senseless and purposeless as it seemed to me and the discovery ou the dead man's neck of a Southern Cross in bruises. That last fact was the one that hit me hardest of any. It gave me pause. Why, I asked myself, should an envelope so curiously marked be in ffoulkes-Abney's hands one day, and why should he be killed and be found bearing the same marks the next day ? There must be some connection between the two things. I had to find that link. Could I but unravel the rnysterv of his death, I held the key, in all likelihood, to the envelope business. Could I pierce the envelope affair, I might be able to trip up the murderer. And what had the Due to do with it all ? Here came in the complication of the Drexel Dream. And on top of that, Billy the Twister's con- nection with the Due. And, to heap Pelion on Ossa. Billy the Twister's connection with Mademoiselle Stella Calmette. It looked as if the only one touched by all the confused radii of this foggy circle was the Due di Saraluna yes. as if he were the centre of the circle. Therefore-the conclusion was clear-it. behoved me, at the earliest oppor- tunity, to find out all I possibly could about that gentleman-his- antecedents and so on. But that was more easily thought than put into execution. To whom could I apply ? Drake was useless. I had spoken to him pretty plainly that afternoon, telling him frankly what suspicions I and Willingale had formed. But Drake would share none of our Paul Pry notions, as he caUed them. The Due and I met for the first time last year." be said he was introduced to me by the Compte d'Arpa- gonville and Lord Asbury. If these are not good enough guarantors—who are ? I'm not the kind of man to ask to see a man's birth certifi- cate, or his patent of nobility, or his vaccina- tion mark before I invite him to dine with me or share my house. Let decent fellows intro- duce himthat's enough for me I wasn't going to insult Asbury or d'Arpagonville by demanding from them a certificate setting forth his good character, and how long he was in his last place. He's a Papal duke, it is true but as Papal titles are generally given to respectable greengrocers and honest milkmen, I suspect he's all right. He's French—yes, I grant you, that's no recommendation he has traded in Australia, where, they say, only Chinamen, Jews, and Macphersons succeed and he has got money-the capital is sin in the eyes of the aristocrats who haven't got any. Beyond that, I know nothing, and I can't say I want to know anything He can talk decently, he be- haves passably (for a Frenchman), and he pays his way—at least. Pve never heard anything to the contrary. What on earth more do you want, Lacaita ? A pair of wings and a penny trumpet ? Bah Of aU this Drake delivered himself with a twinkle in his eye and an assumption of good humour that did not sit quite naturally on him. Was it possible that he felt he had for once gone a little too far when he invited an nnknown" to stay under his roof ? If he did Drake, the soul of hospitality, would be the last man in the world to show it. To all my questionings—queries put in his own interests and in his daughter's—Drake returned but one answer—a snatch of an old song about Gammon and Spinach." Sometimes Drake could be as provoking as a three-year old- fresh into knickerbockers. No, Drake knew nothing useful. Lord Asbury was out of town, I knew, so that he also waa ruled out of the question for the moment and d'Årp3gonvil1 was heaven alone knew where. The Italian Embassy never knows much about, the doings of the Papal Court, yet they might bo able to get some information for me. While I was debating this point with myself, Gorringe entered, his face radiant and his bauds trembling with excitement. 1 have succeeded beyond all expectations, sir." said he. This is one of the most remark- able documents that have ever come into the hands of the police." And he laid a photographic enlargement be- fore mc, Indeed. as a. document, I have never seen a stranger. I cannot, say what a judge might think of its admissibility as evidence, but if it affords us a clue—why, what tapre do we want than a clear picture of the murderer's face ?" This was what I saw. At the top, an eye- brow at the inner border, the side of the ridge of a nose at the outer and lower borders the angle of the temple, and the upper part of a cheek-bone in the centre, an eye. And in the centre of the eye, a faint image of a man's face —long, with a straight nose, keen, hard eyes, and a tangle of beard and moustache and over the eyebrows the rim of a soft felt hat. If the beard had been more carefully trhmned and one could be positive,thai ft was fair—it seemed l^lack—I equld 1$vÇ.orn that the face was that of the Due q i yna. And on the right k were two loo g tecratcbes. As soon as my eye fell on this disturbing pic- ture I remembered what the poor Beau had told me of the mysterious person who had handed him the envelope with the red stars, and how like he had been to the Due. This I now told Gorringe. ] remembered also a chance remark that fell from des Epinettes after the Due had left the Hotel Ritz with Drnke-" If he were only dark." or words to that effect. This I also told Gorringe. Then there is nO time to lose. sir," he replied. Wire M. des Epinettes and ask him what he meant. He may be able to give us a hint which will clear up this affair in a few hours I'll do so," I replied but there is t'me enough for that, I know des Epinettes, and at this hour of the day he is never to be found. I shall wire later, and he will reply. in the morning. Meantime, listen." And in the hope that Gorringe, who is a. wonderfully acute fellow, might drop a helpful suggestion. I ran over briefly all the events with which the reader is already familiar—at least, the events with which I was then fami. liar for I have recorded already two or three happenings which only came to my knowledge afterwards, so that a certain chronological sequence may be kept. For instance, I knew nothing at that moment at the fire inCalthorpe- street. I had hardly finished my recital before a tap sounded on my door, and immediately after Willingale entered, bearing a card- I have just returned, sir," said he, and as I came in I met a gentleman who asked me to give you this. He says the matter is most urgent." 1 glanced at the name: "Sir Huntslet Lukey." What on earth could he want ? Most urgent did he say 1" I asked. Most urgent, sir," said Willingale. "All right. You two come back in ten minutes. Ask Sir Huntslet to step in." (To be Continued.)