"Don't ask for a minute or two," the Inspector interrupted. "I
think I remarked just now that these two crimes had one thing in
common, and that was the fact that they had both been perpetrated
by a criminal of unusual accomplishments. They also have one
other point of similitude."

"What is that?" Penelope asked.

"The victim in both cases was an American," the Inspector said.

Penelope sat very still. She felt the steely eyes of the man who
had chosen his seat so carefully, fixed upon her face.

"You do not connect the two affairs in any way?" she asked.

"That is what we are asking ourselves," Mr. Jacks continued. "In
the absence of any definite clue, coincidences such as this are
always interesting. In this case, as it happens, we can take them
even a little further. We find that you, for instance, Miss
Penelope Morse, a young American lady, celebrated for her wit and
accomplishments, and well known in London society, were to have
lunched with Mr. Hamilton Fynes on the day when he made his
tragical arrival in London; we find too, curiously enough, that
you were one of the party with whom Mr. Richard Vanderpole was to
have dined and gone to the theatre on the night of his decease."

Penelope shivered, and half closed her eyes.

"Don't you think," she said, "that the shock of this coincidence,
as you call it, has been quite sufficient, without having you