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It ran: "From Inspector-in-charge, S. Paddington, to Supt. McNorton. One body found, believed to be a man named Heyler." There is a menace about Monday morning which few have escaped. It is a menace which in one guise or another clouds hundreds of millions of pillows, gives to the golden sunlight which filters through a billion panes the very hues and character of jaundice.
So far as I can ascertain from Professor Heyler, an old German who was in van Heerden's service and who seems a fairly honest man, the doctor nearly lost the culture, and it was only by sending out small quantities to various seedy scientists and getting them to experiment in the cultivation of the germ under various conditions that he found the medium in which they best flourish.
"It's clear enough. He has already some idea of the scheme. He has been pumping old Heyler; he even secured a sample of the stuff it was a faulty cultivation, but it might have been enough for him. He surmised that I had a special use for old Millinborn's money and why I was in a hurry to get it." The silence which followed lasted several minutes. "Does anybody except Beale know?
His big head, his squat body, his long ungainly arms, his pale face with its little wisp of beard, would have been recognized by Oliva Cresswell, for this was Professor Heyler "the Herr Professor," as Beale called him. The man sitting opposite was cast in a different mould. He was tall, spare, almost æsthetic.
He looked sharply at Homo. "Don't look at me," said the Parson, "I know nothing about it, unless " He stopped and frowned. "The Green Rust," he repeated, "is that old man Heyler's secret?" "He's in it," said Beale shortly. "Is it a swindle of some kind?" asked the Parson curiously. "It never struck me that Heyler was that kind of man."
Thousands of sealed envelopes filled with steamship tickets and money. Thousands of telegraph forms already addressed. You don't fool me!" He hissed the last words almost in her face. "Why is he employing the crocks and the throw-outs of science? Perrilli, Maxon, Boyd Heyler and me? If the game's square why doesn't he take the new men from the schools?"
Though he controlled these works and knew half the doctor's secrets, he suspected that the quantity of van Heerden's trust was not greatly in excess of his girl's. "We'll wait," he said again, "there's no hurry and, anyway, I want to see you about old man Heyler." "Von Heyler? I thought you were rid of him?" said van Heerden in surprise, "that is the old fool that Beale has been after.
Earlier in the evening before I arrived he pulled a gun on Schultz. He's too full of gunplay that fellow excuse the idiom, but I was in the same tailor's shop at Portland Gaol as Ned Garrand, the Yankee bank-smasher." Van Heerden made a gesture of impatience. "About old Heyler," Milsom went on, "I know you think he's dangerous, so I've kept him here.
"There goes your evidence, Beale," he said. "What is it?" asked Beale quickly. "The factory was burned to the ground in the early hours of the morning," he said. "The fire started in the old wine vault and the whole building has collapsed." The detective stared out of the window. "Can we arrest van Heerden on the evidence of Professor Heyler?" For answer McNorton handed him the letter.
"Suppose I tell you that the Herr Doctor is engaged in a dangerous conspiracy," said Beale, "and that you yourself are running a considerable risk by assisting him?" The big hands were outspread in despair. "The Herr Doctor has many enemies," mumbled Heyler. "I can tell you nothing, Herr Peale."
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