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Updated: June 22, 2025
"At Hampstead, visiting a friend." "Oh! And what does the friend say?" "He declares that the Count was with him on Christmas Eve and stayed all night." "That is very convenient evidence for the Count, Mr. Denzil. Who is this accommodating friend?" "A doctor called Jorce." "Can his word be trusted?" "So far as I can judge from his looks and a short acquaintance, I should say so."
"The Haven," as Jorce, with some humour, termed his private asylum, was a red brick house, large, handsome, and commodious, built in a wooded and secluded part of Hampstead. It was surrounded by a high brick wall, over which the trees of its park could be seen, and possessed a pair of elaborate iron gates, opening on to a quiet country lane. Externally, it looked merely the estate of a gentleman.
These were of a steel-grey hue, with an extraordinary intensity of gaze; and when he fixed them on Lucian at the moment of introduction the young barrister felt as though he were being mesmerised. For the rest, Jorce was dressed sombrely in black cloth, was extremely voluble and vivacious, and impressed Lucian with the idea that he was less a fellow mortal than a changeling from fairyland.
But I would not be surprised if the man who could solve the mystery is " "Who? who?" "Doctor Jorce himself. I feel sure of it." Unwilling to give up prosecuting the Vrain case while the slightest hope remained of solving its mystery, Lucian sought out Link, the detective, and detailed all the evidence he had collected since the constituted authorities had abandoned the matter. Although Mrs.
Jorce," he said boldly, and without preamble, "I have called to see you about that alibi of Signor Ferruci's." "Alibi is a nasty word, Mr. Denzil," said Jorce, looking sharply at his visitor. "Perhaps, but it is the only word that can be used with propriety." "But I thought that I was called on to decide a bet."
Indeed, Jorce was a very humane man, and had a theory that more cures of the unhappy beings under his charge could be effected by kindness than by severity.
"Who is Wrent?" asked Jorce, looking puzzled. "Don't you know the name, Doctor?" "No." "Did Mrs. Clear never mention it?" "Never." "Nor Ferruci?" "No. I never heard the name before," replied Jorce complacently. "Strange!" said Denzil reflectively. "Yet Wrent seems to be at the bottom of the whole plot. Well, never mind, just now. Please continue, my dear Doctor. What did Mrs. Clear say?"
His having been in the asylum of Jorce is a strong card for him to play. Good-day, Mr. Denzil. I'll see you to-night at nine o'clock sharp." "Good-day," replied Lucian, and the pair parted for the time being. Lucian did not go near Diana that day.
"Then tell me, Doctor, if you spoke truly about that alibi?" "Yes, I did. Count Ferruci was with me that night, and stayed here until the next morning." "What time did he arrive?" "About ten o'clock, or, to be precise," said Jorce, "about ten-thirty." "Ah!" cried Lucian exultantly, "then Ferruci must have been the man in the back yard!" "What do you mean by that?" asked Jorce in a puzzled tone.
Jorce saying I was with him on that night?" sneered the Count. "Partly, and partly about a lady you know." Ferruci frowned. "You speak of Mrs. Vrain?" "No," replied Lucian coolly. "I speak of Mrs. Clear." At the mention of this name, which was the last one he expected to hear his visitor pronounce, the Italian, in spite of his coolness and cunning, could not forbear a start. "Mrs.
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