Part 17

“Then let us hurry!” cried Helen. “I am afraid they will take away”...

Side by side they descended to Henry Leroux's flat, ringing the bell, which, an hour earlier, the lady of the civet furs had rung.

A sergeant in uniform opened the door.

“Is Detective-Inspector Dunbar here?” inquired the physician.

“Yes, sir.”

“Say that Dr. Cumberly wishes to speak to him. And”--as the man was about to depart--“request him not to arouse Mr. Leroux.”

Almost immediately the inspector appeared, a look of surprise upon his face, which increased on perceiving the girl beside her father.

“This is my daughter, Inspector,” explained Cumberly; “she is a contributor to the Planet, and to various magazines, and in this journalistic capacity, meets many people in many walks of life. She thinks she may be of use to you in preparing your case.”

Dunbar bowed rather awkwardly.

“Glad to meet you, Miss Cumberly,” came the inevitable formula. “Entirely at your service.”

“I had an idea, Inspector,” said the girl, laying her hand confidentially upon Dunbar's arm, “that I recognized, when I entered Mr. Leroux's study, tonight”--Dunbar nodded--“that I recognized--the--the victim!”

“Good!” said the inspector, rubbing his palms briskly together. His tawny eyes sparkled. “And you would wish to see her again before we take her away. Very plucky of you, Miss Cumberly! But then, you are a doctor's daughter.”

They entered, and the inspector closed the door behind them.

“Don't arouse poor Leroux,” whispered Cumberly to the detective. “I left him on a couch in the dining-room.”...

“He is still there,” replied Dunbar; “poor chap! It is”...

He met Helen's glance, and broke off shortly.

In the study two uniformed constables, and an officer in plain clothes, were apparently engaged in making an inventory--or such was the impression conveyed. The clock ticked merrily on; its ticking a desecration, where all else was hushed in deference to the grim visitor. The body of the murdered woman had been laid upon the chesterfield, and a little, dark, bearded man was conducting an elaborate examination; when, seeing the trio enter, he hastily threw the coat of civet fur over the body, and stood up, facing the intruders.

“It's all right, doctor,” said the inspector; “and we shan't detain you a moment.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Mr. Hilton, M. R. C. S.” he said, indicating the dark man--“Dr. Cumberly and Miss Cumberly.”

The divisional surgeon bowed to Helen and eagerly grasped the hand of the celebrated physician.

“I am fortunate in being able to ask your opinion,” he began....

Dr. Cumberly nodded shortly, and with upraised hand, cut him short.

“I shall willingly give you any assistance in my power,” he said; “but my daughter has voluntarily committed herself to a rather painful ordeal, and I am anxious to get it over.”

He stooped and raised the fur from the ghastly face.

Helen, her hand resting upon her father's shoulder, ventured one rapid glance and then looked away, shuddering slightly. Dr. Cumberly replaced the coat and gazed anxiously at his daughter. But Helen, with admirable courage, having closed her eyes for a moment, reopened them, and smiled at her father's anxiety. She was pale, but perfectly composed.

“Well, Miss Cumberly?” inquired the inspector, eagerly; whilst all in the room watched this slim girl in her charming deshabille, this dainty figure so utterly out of place in that scene of morbid crime.

She raised her gray eyes to the detective.

“I still believe that I have seen the face, somewhere, before. But I shall have to reflect a while--I meet so many folks, you know, in a casual way--before I can commit myself to any statement.”

In the leonine eyes looking into hers gleamed the light of admiration and approval. The canny Scotsman admired this girl for her beauty, as a matter of course, for her courage, because courage was a quality standing high in his estimation, but, above all, for her admirable discretion.