His clenched fist resting on his knee, the rascal stared out ahead
of him when he ended his shameless confession. In his rage and
disappointment he had not noticed that Muller's hand dropped gently
to the desk and softly took a little bottle from under the
handkerchief. Langen came out of his dark thoughts only when
Muller's voice broke the silence. "But you miscalculated, if you
expected to inherit from your sister. She is still a minor and
your father's will would have given you only ten thousand guldens.

"But you forget that Asta will be twenty-four on the third of
December."

"Ah, then you would have kept her alive until then."

"You understand quickly," said Langen with a mocking smile.

"But she disappeared on the eighteenth of November. How could you
prove that she died after her birthday, therefore in full possession
of her fortune and without leaving any will?"

"That is very simple. I buy several newspapers every day. I would
have taken them up to the fourth and fifth of December and left them
here with the body."

"You are more clever even than I thought," said the detective dryly
as he heard the commissioner's steps behind him. Muller put a
whistle to his lips and its shrill tone ran through the house,
calling up the policeman who stood by the door.

Egon Langen's face was grey with pallor, his features were