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Wentworth's address as I ran. And of the ensuing five minutes I retain nothing but chaotic memories: the bewildered cabman; the police bending over the gaunt form on my study floor; Gatton's voice shouting orders. Then, we had jumped into the cab and enjoining the man to drive like fury, were speeding off through the busy London streets.
Gatton's agility was not so great as mine, but at the moment that I half staggered and half fell into the room, I heard him swinging himself onto the limb behind me so that as I leaped to the open door he came tumbling in through the window, and the pair of us raced side by side along the corridor towards an apartment facing front from which horrifying cries and sounds of conflict now arose.
'She had also her hours of treacherous perversity, during which she played with her victim as with a mouse, before finishing him off with a blow of her claws." He raised his eyes and stared at me strangely. "She played with her victim as with a mouse," he murmured, "before finishing him off with a blow " For long enough after Gatton's departure I sat thinking over our conversation.
Like a fool I stood gaping at the spectacle, until, noting the direction of Gatton's glance, I turned my attention to the mantelpiece upon which a clock was ticking with a dull and solemn note. Standing beside the clock, in a curious carved frame, was a large photograph of Isobel! "This is where the mystery centers," said Gatton.
The big book with its fine plates, several of them representing cats similar to that which Gatton had left behind for my more particular examination, still lay open upon the table, and I reread those passages appertaining to the character of the cat-goddess, which I had marked for Gatton's information.
That Gatton's thoughts had been running parallel with my own was presently made manifest, for: "Without a moment's delay, Mr. Addison," he said, speaking like a man newly awakened from slumber, "we must proceed to The Laurels and test the truth of what we have heard." He crossed to the door, threw it open, and: "Sergeant!" he cried. "Come in! The prisoner is dead!"
"But surely some name, some address, must have been given?" "A name was given," replied Gatton, "and a hotel address, but confirmation of their accuracy was never sought, after the receipt of the money." "And the voice on the telephone?" Again I saw that odd expression creep over Gatton's face, and: "It was a woman's voice," he answered. "Great heavens!" I muttered "what does it all mean?"
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