"Has anyone else viewed the body?" he asked.

"No sir."

"No one is to be allowed to do so--you understand?--_no one_, unless
he has written permission from the Commissioner."

"Very good, sir."

Half an hour later they arrived at New Scotland Yard and went up to
Dunbar's room. A thick-set, florid man of genial appearance, having a
dark moustache, a breezy manner and a head of hair resembling a very
hard-worked blacking-brush, awaited them. This was Detective-Sargeant
Sowerby with whom Stuart was already acquainted.

"Good-morning, Sergeant Sowerby," he said.

"Good-morning, sir. I hear that someone was pulling your leg last
night."

"What do you mean exactly, Sowerby?" inquired Dunbar, fixing his
fierce eyes upon his subordinate.

Sergeant Sowerby exhibited confusion.

"I mean nothing offensive, Inspector. I was referring to the
joker who gave so good an imitation of my voice that even
_you_ were deceived."

"Ah," replied Dunbar--"I see. Yes--he did it well. He spoke just like