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Updated: May 1, 2025
"I shall not commit suicide at any rate, while I've got a fighting chance. Let's get to the point. Will you lend me some money?" The clear-cut face of Fairfield had gone very pale. When he answered it was with dry lips and almost in a whisper. "Not a farthing." And then with more emphasis "Not a farthing." A mist was before his eyes. The lock of the door clicked and Grell shambled out.
The superintendent knew that he was dealing with a woman entirely on her guard. Her steady grey eyes were fixed on him closely, as though she could read his thoughts. He thought he could detect a slight twitching of the slender hands that rested idly on her lap. "I want to know," he said slowly, "the meaning of the advertisement addressed to you by Robert Grell in this morning's Daily Wire."
"It's rather awkward with these er ornaments." The superintendent did as he was requested and Grell puffed luxuriously. Foyle remained silent. Although he was aching to put questions he dared not. "Do you really think that I killed Harry Goldenburg?" asked Grell suddenly. "I don't know," confessed the superintendent non-committally. "I think you may have." "Yes.
The thickening fog was both an advantage and a disadvantage to the detectives an advantage because it would force any person watching on behalf of Grell and his associates to keep within a reasonable distance of the house if Ike was not to be lost sight of, and a disadvantage because it would afford increased facilities for any one to slip away.
"It was I who supplied funds for the most part, and it was only when my resources threatened to give out, that we tried other methods. When I left for Liverpool, I was nearly at the bottom of my purse. The arrangement with Mr. Grell was, that I should remain in hiding there until such time as he could obtain money to enable us to get out of the country. Then I was to join him.
You not unnaturally thought that he had been killed by Mr. Grell." "Yes." She was speaking in a lower key now. "I feared that Mr. Grell in an excess of passion had killed him. What was I to think?" She made a gesture of helplessness with her hands. "My brain was in a whirl, but I seemed to see things clearly enough.
Whether you believe it or not, I assure you, on the word of a dying woman, there was nothing harmful in our intimacy. But letters passed, and his I kept. "He disappeared out of my life after a while, and ultimately I met Goldenburg. We were both living on our wits. I, of course, could not fail to be struck by his astonishing likeness to Mr. Grell, and he told me eventually of their relationship.
Although the main work of the explorer was now focused on Grell, it was not entirely certain that he was the murderer. Indeed, strange as his proceedings had been, there might be some explanation that would account for them. It might be that after Grell was found the whole investigation would have to begin again with the scent grown cold. Stranger things had happened.
He must have understood my look, for he at once said he had burnt them, but would make sure. He left the room. As soon as he was gone I played my final card with Goldenburg. I knew that the time had gone by for finesse; I told him that unless he gave up the letters I would suggest to Grell that he should declare them forgeries, and that I would bear him out.
It was not for nothing that Foyle had chosen that hour for his visit. The sudden summons at such an hour, amid unusual surroundings and the speculation as to what it would be for, had upset the woman's balance. She was taken by the matron into the same room where Grell had been questioned an hour before.
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