in my behalf the more effectually shall I be protected. I don't want
any detective within a mile of my house or office. But, as I have told
you already, explanations must wait-- You, Bates, look a man who can
hold his tongue. Do so, and with Mr. Theydon's permission I'll make it
worth your while when this storm has blown over-- Now, give me that
key."

Theydon was silenced, if not convinced. He realized, of course, that
he must make a full confession to the Criminal Investigation
Department before the sun went down, but argued that he might as well
see the present adventure through.

Soon he and Forbes were standing at the door of No. 17. Forbes curbed
his impatience sufficiently to permit of any one who happened to be in
the interior answering the summons of the electric bell. Of course, no
one came. The police had no reason to remain in charge of the place,
and Ann Rogers would have become a raving lunatic if left alone there
for one half-hour.

The aromatic odor of the burnt joss stick still clung to the suite of
apartments, and Forbes noticed it at once.

"Where was the body found?" he asked.

Theydon led the way to the bedroom. He related Winter's theory of the
crime, and pointed out its seeming aimlessness. So far as the police
could ascertain from the half-crazy servant, none of Mrs. Lester's
jewels was missing. Even her gold purse, containing a fair sum of
money, was found on the dressing-table.