"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.