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list of people she had called on in the course of her job, and who had subsequently died. Hence the remark about Typhoid Mary. The real question is, who was it she ‘recognised’ coming out of a house where he had no business to be, and pretending to be a workman of some kind? That must have been the knowledge that made her dangerous. If she recognised him, he may have recognised her—and he may have realised that she had recognised him. If she’d passed on that particular item to Father Gorman, then it was vital that Father Gorman should be silenced at once before he could pass it on.”

He looked at me.

“You agree, don’t you? That must have been the way of it.”

“Oh yes,” I said. “I agree.”

“And you’ve an idea, perhaps, who the man is?”

“I’ve an idea, but—”

“I know. We haven’t a particle of evidence.”

He was silent a moment. Then he got up.

“But we’ll get him,” he said. “Make no mistake. Once we know definitely who it is, there are always ways. We’ll try every damned one of them!”

Twenty-three

Mark Easterbrook’s Narrative

It was some three weeks later that a car drove up to the front door of Priors Court.

Four men got out. I was one of them. There was also Detective-Inspector Lejeune and Detective-Sergeant Lee. The fourth man was Mr. Osborne, who could hardly contain his delight and excitement at being allowed to be one of the party.

“You must hold your tongue, you know,” Lejeune admonished him.

“Yes, indeed, Inspector. You can count on me absolutely. I won’t utter a word.”

“Mind you don’t.”

“I feel it’s a privilege. A great privilege, though I don’t quite understand—”

But nobody was entering into explanations at this moment.

Lejeune rang the bell and asked for Mr. Venables.

Looking rather like a deputation, the four of us were ushered in.

If Venables was surprised at our visit, he did not show it. His manner was courteous in the extreme. I thought again, as he wheeled his chair a little back so as to widen the circle round him, what a very distinctive appearance the man had. The Adam’s apple moving up and down between the wings of his old-fashioned collar, the haggard profile with its curved nose like a bird of prey.

“Nice to see you again, Easterbrook. You seem to spend a lot of time down in this part of the world nowadays.”

There was a faint malice in his tone, I thought. He resumed:

“And—Detective-Inspector Lejeune, is it? That rouses my curiosity, I must admit. So peaceful in these parts, so free from crime. And yet, a detective-inspector calls! What can I do for you, Detective-Inspector?”

Lejeune was very quiet, very suave.

“There is a matter on which we think you might be able to assist us, Mr. Venables.”

“That has a rather familiar ring, does it not? In what way do you think I can assist you?”

“On October seventh—a parish priest of the name of Father Gorman was murdered in West Street, Paddington. I have been given to understand that you were in the neighbourhood at that time—between 7:45 and 8:15 in the evening, and you may have seen something that may have a bearing on the matter?”

“Was I really in the neighbourhood at that time? Do you know, I doubt it, I very much doubt it. As far as I can recall I have never been in that particular district of London. Speaking from memory, I do not even think I was in London at all just then. I go to London occasionally for an interesting day in the saleroom, and now and then for a medical checkup.”

“With Sir William Dugdale of Harley Street, I believe.”

Mr. Venables stared at him coldly.

“You are very well informed, Inspector.”

“Not quite so well as I should like to be. However, I’m disappointed that you can’t assist me in the way that I hoped. I think I owe it to you to explain the facts connected with the death of Father Gorman.”

“Certainly, if you like. It is a name I have never heard until now.”

“Father Gorman had been called out on that particular foggy evening to the deathbed of a woman nearby. She had become entangled with a criminal organisation, at first almost unwittingly, but later certain things made her suspect the seriousness