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Updated: June 21, 2025
"No doubt," I said rather guiltily, "you refer to the fact of my acquaintance with Miss Isobel Merlin?" "I do!" said Gatton, "and to the fact that you nipped in ahead of me and interviewed this important witness before I had even heard of her existence."
"Now give me the keys," and as the man did so: "Throughout all this time did you see or hear anything of an unusual nature?" Bolton removed his bowler once more. I had gathered by this time that he regarded fresh air as an aid to reflection. "Well, sir," he replied in a puzzled way, "that first door " "Well," said Gatton, as the man hesitated.
The fume-laden room seemed to swim around me as I looked down at the dreadfully contorted features over which was creeping that greenish tint which had characterized the face of Sir Marcus as I had seen it on the morning of the body's recovery from the hold of the Oritoga. "Drag him out," said Gatton huskily; "he may be alive."
In the inspector's glance I had read that he suspected the presence of a woman in the case and at the mention of the New Avenue Theater it had instantly occurred to me that Isobel Merlin was appearing there! Gatton turned again to Morris. "Sir Marcus had not led you to suppose that there was any likelihood of his not returning last night?"
Then: "Jack," I heard, in a faint whisper, "there is a strange noise ... just outside the room...." Silence came. But, vaguely, above that rasping sound, I had detected the words: "Cutting ... telephone ... wires...." I replaced the receiver. My hand was shaking wildly. "Gatton!" I said, "do you understand? It has turned its attention to Miss Merlin!" Then, raising my voice: "Coates!"
I had been about to ask her if Coverly had been in her company on the previous night when the interruption had occurred. Now if Gatton should arrive and find me in Isobel's flat, what construction would he put upon my presence? Yet again I went to the window and peered anxiously up and down the street.
From his pocket the Inspector produced a steel ring bearing a large and a small key which I recognized as that which had hung from the lock of the garage door on the previous night. We walked along to the garage and Inspector Gatton placed the key in the lock; then turning to Bolton: "Now," he directed, "show us exactly what you did."
The divisional surgeon had gone, and only the local officer remained with Gatton and myself in the building. Sir Marcus Coverly presented all the frightful appearance of one who has died by asphyxia, and although of course there would be an autopsy, little doubt existed respecting the mode of his death.
In the blaze of the afternoon sun the place looked commonplace enough with estate agents' bills pasted in the dirty windows, and it was difficult to conceive that it had been the scene of the mysterious crime of which at that hour all London was talking and which later was to form a subject of debate throughout the civilized world. Gatton joined me within a few minutes of my arrival.
Stirrings and the noise of footsteps came from an adjoining room, and presently in his night attire Martin appeared, very bemused. "Mr. Addison," he began, and stared from me to my companion. "Let no one leave their rooms," said Gatton decisively, "until I give them permission." "Eh," began Martin heavily. "I am a police officer," added Gatton; "and you will all do as I direct.
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