"Later-- perhaps today-- perhaps it may never be necessary-- I may
explain myself to your heart's content," he said slowly. "At present I
am here to ask a favor. In the first place, is Mrs. Lester's flat in
charge of the police?"

"I suppose so," said Theydon.

"Is there a detective or constable on duty there now?"

"I am not sure. I imagine there is not. When the Scotland Yard men and
I came out after midnight they locked the door and took away the key.
The-- er-- body is at the mortuary, awaiting the opening of the
inquest at three o'clock."

"Ah! I hoped that would be so. Can you ascertain for certain?"

"But why?"

"Because I wish to go in there. And that brings me to the favor I
seek. The secretary of these flats, even the hall porter, should have
a master key. Borrow it on some pretext. They will give it to you."

"Really, Mr. Forbes--" gasped Theydon, voicing his surprise as a
preliminary to a decided refusal. He was interrupted by the insistent
clang of the telephone-- that curt herald which brooks no delay in
answering its demand for an audience.

"Pardon me one moment," be said. "I'll just see who that is."

The inquirer was Evelyn Forbes.