"Good!" replied the detective, and closed his notebook with a snap.
"Usual formalities will have to be gone through, but I don't think I
need trouble you, gentlemen, any further, to-night."




V

DOCTORS DIFFER


Dr. Cumberly walked slowly upstairs to his own flat, a picture etched
indelibly upon his mind, of Henry Leroux, with a face of despair,
sitting below in his dining-room and listening to the ominous sounds
proceeding from the study, where the police were now busily engaged. In
the lobby he met his daughter Helen, who was waiting for him in a state
of nervous suspense.

"Father!" she began, whilst rebuke died upon the doctor's lips--"tell me
quickly what has happened."

Perceiving that an explanation was unavoidable, Dr. Cumberly outlined
the story of the night's gruesome happenings, whilst Big Ben began to
chime the hour of one.

Helen, eager-eyed, and with her charming face rather pale, hung upon
every word of the narrative.