The White Room

CHAPTER IV
THE MISSING MOTOR-CAR

It was not from Tracey that Laura learned the details of the Ajax Villa tragedy. Leaving Gerty in the garden with her lover, Miss Mason walked round to the house, eager to hear all that had taken place. A rumour about the murder had crept round Troy, and a few curious people were staring at the windows. But no policeman was to be seen. The inspector kept his officers on guard inside the villa, thinking, and very rightly, that the sight of a constable in the garden would provoke inquiry, and bring onlookers. Derrick wished the matter kept as quiet as possible until the arrival of Mr. Fane. The body of the unfortunate woman had been removed to one of the bedrooms, and a policeman watched at the door. Everything in the house was in the same order as it had been when entered by Mulligan, and Derrick himself took up his quarters in the White Room. Here he issued orders.

"If a young lady calls to see me, let her in," he said; "but no one else is to be admitted."

"Mr. Tracey, sir?" asked Mulligan, who was full of official pride.

"Yes; certainly. I except him. But no one else, mind."

"What about the wire to Mr. Fane, sir?"

"I'll send it as soon as I get his address from the lady. Ah" – he nodded as a ring came to the door-"there she is."

Laura entered the room, looking pale and discomposed, evidences of emotion of which Derrick took note. To be sure, it was natural that a girl of this tender age should be unstrung by the tragedy which had taken place, and Derrick scarcely expected to see her other than moved. But having regard to the crime, he was suspicious of all the Fane family. He admired Laura's fresh beauty, and placed a chair for her, apologising meanwhile for the disagreeable duty he had to perform.

"But I am sure you will excuse me, Miss Mason," said the gallant Derrick. "I will ask as few questions as possible."

"I really don't know what questions you can ask me," said Laura.

"Oh, that is an easy matter, Miss Mason. However, we had better clear the ground, so that we may understand one another. It was Mr. Tracey who told me that you are the sister-in-law of Mr. Fane, and I requested him to bring you round. Is he below?"

"No; I preferred to come myself. Mr. Tracey is of a very inquiring nature, and I don't want him to hear all I may have to tell you."

Derrick shook his head. "I fear you will be obliged to let the whole of London hear, Miss Mason. There will be an inquest."

"Must I appear at that?"

"Certainly. You may be able to identify the woman."

"I fear not, from the description Mr. Tracey gave of her."

Derrick looked at her sharply as she said this. Her eyes met his fairly, and she did not flinch from his scrutiny. But her bosom rose and fell hurriedly, her cheeks flushed, she passed her tongue over her dry lips. All these things gave evidence of inward discomposure. Whether she knew anything, Derrick was not prepared to say. But if she did, he was sure it would be difficult to make her speak out. Laura was innocent and young, but in spite of her delicate appearance, she had a strong will. Derrick guessed as much from the way in which she tightened her lips. But he could not conceive that she could hold out against his examination. "Have you anything to conceal?" he asked abruptly and rashly.

Laura coloured still more and glanced at him indignantly. "How can you speak to me like that?" she said; "do you suspect me?"

"No. Certainly not. But the affair is strange, Miss Mason."

"From the little I gathered from Mr. Tracey, it is," she assented.

"Here is a house shut up," said Derrick, pursuing his own train of thought; "left without even a caretaker-"

"There was no need for one to be left," interposed the girl. "My sister, Mrs. Fane, thinks that Troy is a safe suburb. There have been no burglaries hereabouts, so she merely asked the police to keep an eye on the house. Besides, she is away only for three weeks."

"When do Mrs. Fane and family return?"

"In six days."

"You remained behind?"

Laura bowed. "My sister and I are not on very good terms," she began, "and I thought it best to remain with my friend, Miss Baldwin, while the house was shut up. But you were saying something."

"Merely that it is queer this woman-this stranger-if she is a stranger, should obtain admittance into the house while those who own it are away. She came on Saturday evening-at what time we are not as yet able to learn. No one saw her come. We do not know if she came alone or in the company of any one. But come she did, and entered the house. How did she get in?"

"I am as puzzled as you are, sir. But if you will let me see the body, I may be able to tell you if it is that of a stranger to me."

"We can do that later," said Derrick. "Meanwhile I wish to put a few questions. And even if this woman were not a stranger is it likely that she could enter the house?"

"No. So far as I know, my brother-in-law alone has a latch-key."

"Is there not another possessed by a young man?"

Laura looked out of the window while answering this question. "Not that I know of," she said faintly.

Derrick appeared satisfied with this reply, and took out his note-book. "Answer my questions, please," he began. "Who is Mr. Fane?"

"My brother-in-law. He is the second partner in the shipping firm of Mason, Son, and Mason."

"Oh! And why does not his name appear?"

Laura explained. "The firm is an old one," she said; "there are two partners, my brother and Walter Fane. When my father died, the firm was Mason, Son, and Mason, and as it is an old-established one, my brother did not change the name when Mr. Fane became a partner."

"When did Mr. Fane become a partner?"

"Three years ago, when he married my sister Julia!"

"Did Mr. Fane bring any money into the business?" asked Derrick; then seeing Laura's look of surprise, he continued apologetically, "Excuse me, Miss Mason, but I must know everything."

"I believe Mr. Fane brought very little money into the business. It was my sister Julia who had the money, and she paid sufficient to my brother to buy Walter a share. But I have no right to tell you these things," said Laura, flushing. "If you wish to know anything further you must ask Mr. Fane himself."

"I intend to. Will you give me his address?"

"Ocean View, Wandle Road, Westcliff-on-Sea."

Derrick noted this in his book. "I'll send a wire to him," he said, "as the inquest takes place to-morrow and we must have him present. By the way, do you know a young man with a pointed beard and slim figure? Is he a visitor at this house?"

"Not that I know of," said Miss Mason promptly. "I know no one of that type-with a pointed beard, I mean."

"Yet such a young man came out of the house, and held the policeman in talk while his accomplice murdered this woman."

"Were there two men, then?"

"We think so," answered Derrick cautiously. "I presume, Miss Mason," he added, "you have been to this house since Mrs. Fane left it?"

"Certainly not."

"But living so near-Meadow Lane is but a stone-throw away."

"Quite so. All the same I had no reason to return here."

"You live in this house?"

"With my sister. Yes."

"Then your things are here?"

Laura looked hard at Derrick, trying to fathom his meaning. "I took all needful things with me, as though I were going on a long journey, Mr. Inspector. For nearly two weeks I have lived with Mrs. Baldwin, and have not been in Achilles Avenue."

"Have you not passed the house?"

"I said that I had not been in Achilles Avenue," replied Laura.

"Then you know nothing," said Derrick, obviously disappointed with the result of his examination.

"Absolutely nothing."

The inspector nursed his chin, and thought with his eyes on the ground. There was nothing else he could ask. Mr. Fane was the owner of Ajax Villa, and as this unknown woman had been murdered therein, Mr. Fane alone would be able to say how she had come by her death. In his past life might be found the reason that the poor creature should be so slain. "What did Mr. Fane do before he joined the firm?"

"Nothing," replied Laura, rousing herself from her own thoughts; "he is possessed of independent means and travelled a great deal. I suppose he grew weary of so aimless a life. However, my sister persuaded him to become a partner, which he did, after he married her."

"Hum!" said Derrick, not finding this reply threw any light on the subject. Then he cast his eyes round the room. "This is a queer place, Miss Mason. Mrs. Fane's idea?"

"No. Mr. Fane furnished the house. My sister does not like this room. It is too cold in its looks for her. Mr. Fane is fond of it. But the whole house was furnished before Mr. Fane married."

"For the marriage, I presume."

"No. Mr. Fane lived here as a bachelor for six months before he married my sister."

"But no doubt the engagement lasted six months, and Mr. Fane furnished the house as he thought your sister would like it."

"He did not. Mr. Fane married my sister at the end of three months, and before that he furnished the house according to his own taste."

Derrick thought this strange. However, he did not ask any more questions, as he felt that he had rather exceeded the limits of an even official courtesy. "I am much obliged to you for replying so frankly to my questions, Miss Mason," he said. "If I have been too curious, the strange nature of this case must be my excuse. We will now inspect the body."

Laura's cheeks grew even paler than they were. But she made no objection. Silently she followed the inspector, moving indifferently through the house. Only when they arrived at the door of the death-chamber did she draw back. "You have put the body into my room," she said resentfully.

"I am sorry," said Derrick, opening the door, "but of course I was quite in ignorance."

"I shall never be able to sleep in the room again," murmured Laura, and passed through the door which Derrick held open.

Out of delicacy the inspector did not enter with her. He remained outside, thinking over what she had said. It seemed to him that Mr. Fane had married very suddenly, and had taken his bride to a house which had not been furnished for her. The house was too large for a bachelor, and must have been intended for two. What if Fane had been engaged to some one else, for whom the house was furnished, but the engagement being broken, and married Miss Julia Mason so hurriedly. If this were so, the house with its strange White Room which was not to the present Mrs. Fane's taste must have been furnished for the unknown woman. And perhaps the unknown woman was the poor soul who lay dead within. Only Fane had the latch-key, only Fane could have admitted her, and then-here Derrick broke off. He felt that he was taking too much for granted; that he was building up a theory on unsubstantial foundations. Until he saw Fane, and learned what kind of a man he was, it was impossible to formulate any theory. Still, for his own satisfaction, Derrick determined to ask Laura a few more questions. It was at this moment she emerged, pale but composed.

"I do not know the woman at all," she said, before he could speak.

"You are quite sure?"

"Perfectly. I never set eyes on her before. A pretty woman," added Laura sadly, "and with quite a girlish face. I wonder what brought her here to meet her death."

"I wonder," said Derrick; "and who could have killed her?"

"That is the mystery," sighed Laura, turning to go away.

"It will not remain one long. Mr. Fane must know her, since only he had the latch-key."

"Yes. Only he has-" here Laura broke off and flashed an inquiring look on the inspector. "Do you mean to say that my brother-in-law knows something about this crime?"

"If only he has the latch-key-"

"You stated that this young man with a pointed beard met by your policeman had a latch-key."

"Yes. But has Mr. Fane a beard?"

"A beard? No. He is clean-shaven."

"He might have assumed a disguise."

"How dare you hint at such a thing?" said Laura indignantly. "I am quite sure that Mr. Fane knows nothing. Last night he was at Westcliff-on-Sea, ill in bed. I can show you a wire. My sister knew that I was going to her to-morrow, and she wired last night at five o'clock saying that Walter was ill and that I had better not come."

"Oh!" This statement took the inspector aback. If Fane had been ill at Westcliff-on-Sea, he certainly could not be the man met by Mulligan. "Can you show me the wire?" he asked.

"I will send it round to you. And I am quite sure that when you see Mr. Fane you will not suspect him of this crime. A better and more kindly man does not live. However this woman came to enter the house, however she was killed, and for what reason, Mr. Fane can know nothing of the matter. How was she killed?"

"Stabbed under the left shoulder-blade while she was singing."

"Singing! What was she singing, and why in a strange house?"

"She was singing 'Kathleen Mavourneen.'"

Laura looked surprised. "My sister's favourite song."

"Oh indeed," said Derrick sharply. He hesitated. "Your sister is also at Westcliff-on-Sea?"

"Are you about to accuse her?" asked Laura disdainfully.

"I accuse no one," replied Derrick, nettled. "I am only trying in all directions to learn facts upon which to build up a theory."

"Then why don't you look for real evidence?"

"Such as what, Miss Mason?"

"Such as the weapon with which this woman was killed."

"We have looked. It cannot be found. The murderer took it away. He would not be such a fool as to leave that lying about. The doctor fancies from the nature of the wound that it must be a long slim dagger-a kind of stiletto."

"Such as a foreigner might use," said Laura involuntarily.

"What do you mean?" asked the inspector sharply.

Laura flushed. "Nothing, nothing," she responded; "but foreigners usually make use of such a weapon, don't they? An Englishman would not kill a person with a stiletto."

"It's not British, certainly," said Derrick, with insular prejudice; "but a woman might use such a thing. Still, we do not know that the assassin is a man or" – he looked straight at her-"a woman."

Laura could not quite understand his meaning, since it never struck her that he meant to incriminate her in the matter. She took no notice, being anxious to learn what Derrick thought. "What is your theory on existing facts?" she asked coldly.

Derrick reflected. "I hardly know what to say. Let us suppose that the woman admitted herself into the house. How she got the latch-key I am not prepared to say. She came to meet some one-possibly the two people who killed her."

"The two people?" interrupted Laura abruptly.

"There was the young man who kept Mulligan in talk," explained the officer, "and the one who presumably killed her. Let us suppose, for the sake of argument, that this woman met these two men. Seeing a policeman at the gate, Number One goes out to lure him away. Left alone with Number Two, the woman sits at the piano to sing. On the music-stand is 'Kathleen Mavourneen.' She knows that song and sings it. The assassin, standing behind her, watches his opportunity and stabs her. Then he goes."

"You forget that the song was being sung, according to your own account, before Number One left the gate with the policeman."

"Certainly. But the woman might have begun to sing immediately after Number One left."

"Before," insisted Laura. "The policeman listened while Number One was in the room. It was the song that made him stop. I am only going by what you told me. Your theory doesn't fit together."

Derrick frowned. "It is hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together, Miss Mason. Only in detective fiction does the heaven-born genius put this and that together in a flash. I-a mere mortal-am groping in the dark. I may discuss a hundred theories before I hit on the right solution. Nothing more can be done till I see Mr. Fane. As the woman was in his house, he must know-"

"He knows nothing," interrupted Laura imperiously; "he can't know. The man is ill at the seaside and-"

Derrick interrupted in his turn. "I'll wait till I hear what Mr. Fane has to say," he declared abruptly.

He rose to terminate the interview. As he opened the door Tracey entered hurriedly. "My car's found," he burst out.

"Where?" asked Derrick and Laura together.

"Stranded in the yard of Charing Cross Station."

Laura turned quickly on Derrick. "I beg you to observe, Mr. Inspector, that you cannot get to Westcliff-on-Sea from Charing Cross."

"I have not yet accused Mr. Fane," retorted the inspector.

CHAPTER V
PUBLIC OPINION

Naturally there was great excitement over "The White Room Crime," as it soon came to be called. The inhabitants of Troy were shocked, as such a thing had never before happened in their locality. They found their holy quiet invaded by a host of reporters, detectives, policemen, idlers, and morbid folk who wished for new sensations. Mr. and Mrs. Fane left their child at the seaside and came up for the inquest, which was held at a quiet public-house in the neighbourhood. Fane insisted that the body should be taken away from Ajax Villa.

"It should have been removed at once," he declared. "I don't know the woman. I never set eyes on her. My wife doesn't know her, and I can't conceive how she came to die in my place."

"Do you alone own the latch-key?"

It was Derrick who asked this question, and he eyed Fane sharply as the reply came.

"I alone own the latch-key of my house," said Fane; "it is a peculiar lock. No other key but mine will fit it. See!" He produced a long slim key, upon which Derrick, unlocking a drawer, took out of it the key picked up by Mulligan. The two were identical in all respects. "You see," said Derrick in his turn, "a duplicate has been made. I noticed that the strange key was new when Mulligan showed it."

"Where did you get this key?"

"The young man who lured Mulligan away from the gate dropped it."

"Very strange," said Fane in a puzzled tone. "I can't understand. I don't think the locksmith who made me my key can have made two, as I especially agreed with him that he was not to do so."

"Have you his address?"

"Yes. It is at my office in the city. I will give it to you. But I am sure the man is to be trusted. A most respectable tradesman."

"Hum," said Derrick, scratching his chin. "Respectable tradesmen do queer things for money at times."

"But why should this strange woman have been brought to this house-my house-to be murdered?"

"I can't say. That is what we have to find out. You don't know this woman?" asked Derrick doubtfully.

Fane was a smart, cheery-faced fellow with rather a weak mouth. He looked rather haggard, as he had practically risen from a sick-bed to obey the summons of the law. For the moment he appeared puzzled when Derrick spoke. Then he flashed an indignant look on him, and grew red. "Do you mean to insinuate that I did something underhand, Mr. Inspector?" he inquired excitedly.

"Men admire pretty women," said Derrick dryly.

"I do, like all men. At the same time I am faithful to my wife, whom I love very dearly. We are a most attached couple. And if you hint at anything wrong, sir, let me tell you that I was ill with a cold at the seaside when this crime was perpetrated. Also, had I been in town-had I known this woman-I certainly should not have brought her to my own house."

"No! no! quite so," said Derrick soothingly. "I don't mean to hint for a moment that your character is not spotless. But this key, sir. Has it ever been out of your possession?"

"Never! I carry it, as you see, on a steel chain. It comes off at night and goes on in the morning. Only my wife could have had it in her possession. You are not going to accuse her of taking an impression, are you?" asked Fane scathingly.

"Does Mrs. Fane know the woman?" asked Derrick, passing over this ironical speech.

"No. She never set eyes on her. No one knows who the woman is."

"Strange! Strange! I wonder why she should be killed in your house?"

"Don't you know her name?" asked Fane.

"No. There is no mark on her linen; no cards or letters in her pocket. She came out of the darkness into your house, and has been swallowed up by the darkness of the grave. We know no more. At the inquest something may transpire."

"I sincerely hope so," said Fane bluntly. "The whole thing is most disagreeable. I shall have to give up Ajax Villa. My wife is quite upset. The affair will put me to great expense. Good-day."

"One moment. Do you know a young man with a pointed beard?"

"Not that I can recall," replied Fane after a pause. "But of course I may have met such a person."

"Well" – Derrick gave up his questions in despair-"we must wait for the inquest."

But here a fresh disappointment awaited him. Nothing came to light at the inquest likely to throw light on the mystery. Geason proved that the unknown woman had been stabbed from behind and had died almost immediately. He was positive that she had been dead five hours when he was called in. If this were so, the woman who sang the song could not be the dead one. Nor could the young man who entered into conversation with Mulligan have been sent to lure him away so that the murder might take place. When the young man came out of the house the woman must have been dead three hours. The doctor firmly held to this opinion, and thereby perplexed the jury and upset the theories of Derrick.

Various were the opinions given by those present during the interview. Some thought this, some that, and every one had his own pet solution of the mystery. But the evidence was scanty. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fane stated that they knew nothing of the woman. The husband insisted that the latch-key had never been out of his possession, and the wife asserted that he had been sick in bed miles away at the time the crime was committed. Mulligan described his meeting with the strange young man and the conversation which had ensued; also his discovery of the body, and how he had entered the house. All inquiries on the part of the police failed to prove the identity of the dead. Tracey stated how he had missed his motor-car, and evidence was forthcoming to show that it had been left in the Charing Cross yard. But no one seemed to know who had brought it there. The result of this crop of scanty facts was obvious. The jury brought in a verdict against some person or persons unknown.

"It's the only thing to be said," said Derrick to Fane when the crowd dispersed. "The woman is dead, and she must be buried. That cost will fall on the parish."

"No," replied Fane, who did not seem to be an unkindly man. "The poor creature died in my house, so I will charge myself with her burial. I have consulted Mrs. Fane, and she thinks as I do."

"But you know nothing about her."

"That is true. However, if you make inquiries, you may learn."

The inspector shook his head. "I fear not; I don't know where to look. It is a kind thought of you to bury her, Mr. Fane. Not many men would do that in your place after the trouble you have had."

"It's the least I can do, seeing she was murdered under my roof. But you may hear who she is. Why not advertise?"

"That has been done. Handbills have been placed round describing her looks, and with a picture. Orders have been sent throughout London to the police to keep their eyes open. I doubt if anything will come of the hunt though."

"Surely," said Fane, wrinkling his brows, "a woman can't disappear like this in London?"

"London is the very place where people disappear," retorted Derrick. "Those who live in this big city never know how many people vanish yearly and are never heard of again. In this case we have the body of the woman, but who she was, where she came from, and why she was murdered in your house, will probably never be known."

"Well," said Fane, with the air of a man dismissing the subject, "if you do intend to make inquiries, please keep me advised of your discoveries. I should like to know how the woman entered the house. I believe you saw my locksmith?"

"I did. He swears positively that he did not make a duplicate key. More than that, he has not a duplicate of the one he made you."

Fane looked doubtful. "I should have thought he would have retained a copy for trade purposes. Suppose I lost the key-"

"He would not have been able to make you another, Mr. Fane. However, I am keeping an eye on him. He may be lying for his own ends. One never knows, and I always mistrust respectable men."

"From what my sister-in-law told me, Mr. Derrick, you were inclined to mistrust me."

Derrick coughed. "The case is so strange," said he; "but I am now quite sure that you had nothing to do with the matter."

"Thank you for nothing," said Fane dryly. "It is lucky that with the assistance of my wife I was able to prove an alibi."

"Very lucky indeed," replied the inspector cheerfully. "Had you been in town that night, and unable to explain your comings and goings, it might have gone hard with you."

"Do you mean to say-"

"Nothing-absolutely nothing. But see here, Mr. Fane; put yourself in my place, in the place of any man. A woman gains admittance to your house and there is murdered. You alone have the key. On the face of it, does not that look as though you alone killed her, else, why the use of your key to let her enter the house? It is lucky for you, as you say, that in full open court, and in the ears of all men, you were able to prove an alibi, else nine out of ten would have suspected you of knowing more than you stated."

"I said all I knew."

"I am sure of that, sir; and you proved-with the assistance of Mrs. Fane-your innocence. As they say, you leave the court without a stain. All the same, the case is strange. For my part, pending the discovery of the young man who dropped the key, I shall hunt for the woman. In her past life will be found the explanation of her death. I shall let you know how I get on, but I must ask you to also keep me advised of what you see and hear."

Fane shrugged his shoulders and took out a cigar. "I shall take no further steps in the matter. Once this woman is buried, and I have left Ajax Villa, the thing will be relegated to obscurity so far as I am concerned."

"Well," said Derrick, with a side look, "perhaps that's natural."

He then said good-bye to Fane, and went away thoughtfully. Derrick was not a particularly brilliant mortal, as his conduct of the case shows. As the saying goes, he could not see further than his nose. But he certainly wondered in his own mind, if despite the evidence of Mrs. Fane, her husband might not have something to do with the matter. To save his life, to keep him from shame, she might have kept silence. "But it's impossible," said Derrick aloud. "If he was guilty, she would not lie. If the victim had been a man now. But as it was a woman, a jealous creature like Mrs. Fane would certainly not sacrifice herself to save a man who deceived her. No; Fane is guiltless. But who is the culprit? That's the question." And it was a question which Derrick could not answer, though he tried to do so in his blundering way.

So the unknown woman was duly buried. Tracey and Fane went to the funeral, and the body was followed by a large concourse of those who wished to see the last of the victim of this mysterious tragedy. Every one agreed that Fane was behaving very well in thus giving the poor wretch decent burial. Fane looked white and worn when the grave was being filled in, and the rumour went round of how ill he had been, and how he had come up from a sick-bed to see this matter through. Several people shook hands with him as he left the cemetery, and he was congratulated on all hands. Then the gates of the burial-ground were closed, and the grave was left to the rain and the sunshine. For all any one present knew, its secret would not be delivered up until the Judgment-day.

It was the press that said the last word on the subject. The Daily Budget, always in search of the sensational, thought the affair strange enough to give it the honour of a leading article. As many people may remember the perplexity of police and public in connection with this murder, it may not be uninteresting to give an extract or two from the article.

"The inexplicable murder in Troy is one of those crimes which at once startle and shock the public. That a woman should be done to death in this manner is bad enough, but that with our wonderful police organisation, her identity should remain a mystery is nothing less than a scandal and a shame. If the houses of law-abiding citizens are to be made the shambles for unknown assassins, the sooner the police force is reorganised the better. And again, is it not disgraceful that nothing can be found likely to prove who this poor creature is? Have we not newspapers and agents and handbills and all the paraphernalia of civilisation for the detection of the unknown? Search should be made in the most minute manner in order to prove who this dead woman is. Once her name is discovered, in her past life may be found the reason of her untimely and tragic death. This is the opinion of Inspector Derrick, who has handled the case, with all its strange elements of mystery, with but an indifferent degree of success. Not but what we are prepared to admit that the case is remarkably difficult and would tax the intellect of a Vidocq to unravel.

"It would seem that the woman went to the house between eight and nine o'clock, and was murdered shortly after she entered the door. Certainly she was seated at the piano, and certainly the song of 'Kathleen Mavourneen' was open before her. But we are sure that she never sang the song. While waiting for some one-perhaps the assassin who struck her down-she may have played for a time. But the woman who sang the song did so some three hours after the death of the unfortunate creature. Mulligan swore that he heard the song about eleven; the doctor declares that the woman was murdered before nine o'clock. On the face of it, it is impossible to reconcile this conflicting evidence.

"No one saw the woman enter the house, although many people were about Achilles Avenue during the evening. But in the multitude of people-especially on a Saturday night-would lie the chance of the woman not being observed. Few people knew that Mr. Fane and his family-one little girl-were at the seaside; so even if any one had noticed the woman enter the gate of Ajax Villa such a thing would not be fixed in the mind of the observer. All inquiries have been made, but no one appears to have noted the woman's coming. It is therefore impossible to say if she entered the house alone or in the company of the assassin.