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Updated: May 12, 2025
I could hear Martin, the landlord, talking to the Eurasian doctor in the passage outside the coffee-room, and before I had time to open the door, there came a peremptory rap, the door was opened from the outside and Dr. Damar Greefe entered.
"Then the opening and closing of the doors was merely a device for ringing the bell?" "Yes. The opening of the first door set it ringing and the opening of the second probably stopped it. Mr. Addison," he stood up, resting his hands upon the table and regarding me fixedly "we enter upon the final battle of wits: New Scotland Yard versus Dr. Damar Greefe and the green-eyed lady of Bâst.
I exclaimed, "a negro?" "A blackamoor. That's all I know or care; and dumb!" "Dumb! and a friend of Hawkins?" "God knows. Things ain't right." "Do you know if a lady resides with Dr. Greefe?" "Maybe maybe not. There is tales told."
"Many thanks," I returned; "I'll risk it. I have already trespassed unwarrantably upon your time, Dr. Greefe. It was good of you to give me shelter." He rose, a tall thin figure, vaguely repellent, upon realizing that I was set on departure, and conducted me out by way of the front door. Standing in the porch: "At any time that you chance to be again in my neighborhood, Mr.
Damar Greefe may be somewhere within less than half a mile of us as we sit here now, that we could ring him up if we knew his number; but that even with all the resources of the Criminal Investigation Department at work we may yet be unable to find him! Even an outside suburb like this is a very big place to search and the job is something like looking for a needle in a haystack!"
Damar Greefe," said the Inspector, closely watching the man who sat there collapsed in the chair, "I arrest you on a charge of murder. I have to warn you that anything you now say will be used in evidence against you." The Eurasian exerted a supreme effort, straightening his gaunt body, and fixing the gaze of those hawk eyes upon Inspector Gatton.
"Ah! And she was not my niece?" "I lack the pleasure of your niece's acquaintance, Dr. Greefe." "Yes. You said so. Good day, Mr. Addison." He turned, lowered his head, and walked out of the room. When I, in turn, emerged into the passage, I saw him striding out of the inn.
Damar Greefe had not returned to his studies, but had swiftly passed along some path through the trees so as to head me off! His purpose in so doing I knew not, but that he had cherished this purpose and proposed to act upon it I had divined in some way at the moment that I had left him in the porch.
"I really don't doubt it," replied Gatton, who, having filled his pipe, now lighted it. "I believe he was the first victim." "The first victim?" "Mr. Addison, I agree with the late Sir Burnham's solicitor, that the spider at the heart of this web is Dr. Damar Greefe.
Not even the assurances of the local medical man who had been summoned in haste could convince me. For I recognized how petty was his knowledge in comparison with that of Dr. Damar Greefe. But, alas, to this very hour she sometimes awakes shrieking in the night. And her terrified cry is always the same: "The green eyes of Bâst!... the green-eyes of Bâst!"
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