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Updated: June 6, 2025
You know it was discovered that Rhoda was the ghost, and the ghost, as Miss Greeb suggested, killed Clear." "It is haunted now by the ghost of Clear," said Lucian gravely. "At all events, he was murdered there, and no one cares to live in the house. I confess I shouldn't care to live in it myself. So, Peacock, finding the house unprofitable, has determined to pull it down."
"Well, even if he did, how could he get into No. 13?" argued Miss Greeb. "You know I've read the report of the case, Mr. "I may discover even that," replied Lucian, not choosing to tell Miss Greeb that he had already discovered the entrance. "With time and inquiry and observation we can do much. Thank you, Miss Greeb," he continued, slipping the drawing of the plan into his breast coat pocket.
"H'm!" said Lucian in a dissatisfied tone. "That complicates matters." "How so, sir?" demanded the curious landlady. "Never mind just now, Miss Greeb. Do you think you could draw me a plan of this passage of Mrs. Bensusan's house, and of No. 13, with the yards between?" "I never could sketch," said Miss Greeb regretfully, "and I am no artist, Mr. Denzil, but I think I can do what you want."
"Well, she lets rooms," explained Miss Greeb in a very definite manner, "and those who live in them supply their own food, and pay for service and kitchen fire." "Who is with her now?" "No one," replied the landlady promptly. "She's had her bill up these three months. Her last lodger left about Christmas." "What is his name or her name?" "Oh, it was a 'he," said Miss Greeb, smiling. "Mrs.
To Diana's amusement, Lucian went and shouted down the stairs to Miss Greeb, but as no reply came, and the bell was still ringing furiously, he was obliged to open the door himself. On the step there stood a little woman in a tailor-made brown frock, a plainly trimmed brown straw hat with a black gauze velvet-spotted veil. At once Denzil guessed who she was. "You are Mrs.
"Lord!" cried Miss Greeb, taken by surprise. "You don't say, sir, that Mr. Wrent is a murdering villain, steeped in gore?" "No! No!" replied Lucian, smiling at this highly-coloured description. "Do not jump to conclusions, Miss Greeb. So far as I am aware, this Mr. Wrent you speak of is innocent. Do you know Mrs. Bensusan and her house well?" "I've visited both several times, Mr. Denzil."
Clear coming to this sensible conclusion, the door opened suddenly, and little Miss Greeb, in a wonderful state of agitation, tripped in. "Oh, Mr. Denzil! I've just been to Mrs. Bensusan's, and Rhoda's run away!" "Run away!" "Yes! She hasn't been back all day, and left a note for Mrs. Bensusan saying she was going to hide, because she was afraid." Now, indeed, Lucian had his hands full.
"Accuse me of stealing your silver spoons and have me locked up," said Lucian, laughing. "Make yourself easy, Miss Greeb. I have no intention of tempting Providence. All the same, I don't believe for one minute that No. 13 is haunted." "Lights were seen flitting from room to room." "No doubt. Poor Vrain showed me over the house before he died. His candle explains the lights."
"Do you know anything about No. 13?" asked Lucian, stirring his tea. "Do I know anything about No. 13?" repeated Miss Greeb in shrill amazement. "Of course I do, Mr. Denzil. There ain't a thing I don't know about that house. Ghosts and vampires and crawling spectres live in it that they do." "Do you call Mr. Berwin a ghost?" "No; nor nothing half so respectable.
"They may have come into the square during the day, when Blinders was not on duty." "No, sir," said Miss Greeb, ready for this objection. "I thought of that myself, and as my duty to the square I have inquired that I have. On two occasions I've asked the day policeman, and he says no one passed." "Then," said Lucian, rather puzzled, "Mr. Berwin cannot live alone in the house."
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