"Did you see anybody leaving the place when you entered?" he asked.

"There was no one about here when I came in--either at the street door or
at the side door," replied Lauriston, readily. "The whole place was quiet
--deserted--except for him. And--he was dead when I found him."

The inspector drew Ayscough aside and they talked in whispers for a few
minutes, eyeing Lauriston now and then; eventually they approached him.

"I understand you're known here, and that you live in the neighbourhood,"
said the inspector. "You'll not object if the sergeant goes round with you
to your lodgings--you'll no doubt be able to satisfy him about your
respectability, and so on. I don't want to suggest anything--but--you
understand?"

"I understand," replied Lauriston. "I'll show or tell him anything he
likes. I've told you the plain truth."

"Go with him now," directed the inspector; "you know what to do,
Ayscough!"

Half an hour later, when the dead man had been carried to his room, and
the shop and house had been closed, Melky Rubinstein, who had come in
while the police were still there, and had remained when they had gone,
stood talking to Zillah in the upstairs sitting-room. Melky was unusually
grave: Zillah had already gathered that the police had some suspicion
about Lauriston.

"I'll go round there and see what the detective fellow's doing with him,"
said Melky. "I ain't got no suspicion about him--not me! But--it's an