Ayscough, and led to the witness-box.

Zillah had already assumed the garments of mourning for her grandfather.
She was obviously distressed at being called to give evidence, and the
Coroner made her task as brief as possible. It was--at that stage--little
that he wanted to know. And Zillah told little. She had gone out to do
some shopping, at half-past-four on the previous afternoon. She left her
grandfather alone. He was then quite well. He was in the front shop, doing
nothing in particular. She was away about an hour, when she returned to
find Detective-Sergeant Ayscough, whom she knew, and Mr. Lauriston, whom
she also knew, in the shop, and her grandfather dead in the parlour
behind. At this stage of her evidence, the Coroner remarked that he did
not wish to ask Zillah any further questions just then, but he asked her
to remain in court. Mrs. Goldmark had followed her, and she and Zillah sat
down near Melky and Lauriston--and Lauriston half believed that his own
turn would now come.

But Ayscough was next called--to give a brief, bald, matter-of-fact
statement of what he knew. He had gone to see Mr. Multenius on a business
affair--he was making enquiries about a stolen article which was believed
to have been pledged in the Edgware Road district. He told how Lauriston
ran into him as he entered the shop; what Lauriston said to him; what he
himself saw and observed; what happened afterwards. It was a plain and
practical account, with no indication of surprise, bias, or theory--and
nobody asked the detective any questions arising out of it.

"Ain't nobody but you to call, now, mister," whispered Melky. "Mind your
p's and q's about them blooming rings--and watch that Parminter!"

But Melky was mistaken--the official eye did not turn upon Lauriston but,