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Updated: June 20, 2025
Moreover, the car sped on unhesitatingly, stopping some two hundred yards ahead. So far as Theydon could tell, no one alighted. He jotted down the number XY 1314 on his shirt cuff. "Did you happen to see that car waiting near the house I came from?" he said to the taxi man, who, of course, provided an interested audience of one. "Yes, sir," was the ready answer. "It's not a London car.
"I've never crossed the Pacific," he said, after apparently satisfying himself as to the exact nature of the unpleasant token, "but one of my hobbies is the collection of ivories. In my home " "21,097 Park Avenue," interrupted Theydon. "Just so four doors short of 211th Street. Well, sir, when you blow in there you'll see a roomful of curios.
In that issue should have appeared Forbes's reply to "Y. M." which Furneaux had suppressed as unnecessary. There was a chauffeur at the wheel no Chinaman, but a tightly-buttoned and black-legginged young Englishman in fact, the real thing in chauffeurs. "Whose car is this?" demanded Theydon.
Bates and I deduced his sex from the sound of his footsteps." Again Theydon nearly stammered. Events had certainly turned in the most amazing way. Instead of carrying himself almost in the manner of a judge, he was figuring rather as an unwilling witness in the hands of a skilled and merciless cross-examining counsel. "Did the police officers supply any theory of motive for the crime?
Theydon was at least sufficiently well versed in the peculiarities of the feminine temperament to know that he would, be safe in answering the last question first. "Yes," he said. "I have seen a good deal of Miss Forbes recently. Have you ever met her?" "She was at the horse show last year with Lady de Winton's party. She's an awfully pretty girl, and will be worth millions, I suppose.
A quiet, drawling voice reached them, the vibrating wire lending its measured accents a metallic accuracy. "That you, Mr. Theydon?" "Why, it's Mr. Handyside! Yes, I'm here. Where are you speaking from? Croydon?" "That's so." "Well, I don't understand, but I'm sure you'll pardon me. We are in a deuce of a fix at this end, so, if you'll arrange to call tomorrow " "You've lost Mrs. Forbes, I guess.
I have not even seen a newspaper account of the crime." "Would you care to examine No. 17?" It was Furneaux who put the question, and Theydon was genuinely astonished. "Do you mean " he began, but Furneaux laughed, almost savagely. "I mean Mrs. Lester's flat," he said. "The poor woman's body is at the mortuary. If you come with us we can reconstruct the crime.
Two Chinamen, sedate, pig-tailed persons, were descending the steps. With them was Furneaux! One of the Orientals gave Theydon a rather sharp glance, having noticed, apparently, that he was conversing with the chauffeur, but Furneaux, after a stonily indifferent stare, said to the second Chinaman, in plain English: "Do you mind dropping me at Scotland Yard?"
"Take Mrs. Paxton in, Theydon. Mrs. Forbes and Evelyn will be glad of your company." Theydon knocked, and heard Evelyn's voice bidding him enter. Mrs. Forbes was lying on a couch, and her daughter had evidently been seated near her, reading a newspaper. "I've brought my sister to see you," he explained.
"Stop that!" he said authoritatively. "Let go that young lady or I'll shake the life out of you!" By this time Theydon was on his feet again, and rushing to the assistance of Chief Inspector Winter, who seemed to have miraculously dropped from the skies at the right moment.
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