, evidently.
Find anything at the Crystal Palace Low Level, Mr. Narkom?"

"Yes. My dear Cleek, I don't know whether you are a wizard or what, and
I can't conceive what reason you can have for making such an inquiry,
but----"

"Which was it? Canoe or ironing-board?"

"Neither, as it happens. But they've got a lady's folding cutting table;
you know the sort, one of those that women use for dressmaking
operations; and possible to be folded up flat, so they can be tucked
away. Nobody knows who left it; but it's there awaiting an owner; and it
was found----"

"Oh, I can guess that," interposed Cleek nonchalantly. "It was in a
first-class compartment of the 5.18 from London Bridge, which reached
the Low Level at 5.43. No, never mind questions for a few minutes,
please. Let's go and have a look at the body. I want to satisfy myself
regarding the point of what in the world Stavornell was doing on a
suburban train at a time when he ought, properly, to be on his way home
to his rooms at the Ritz, preparing to dress for dinner; and I want to
find out, if possible, what means that chap with the little dark
moustache used to get him to go out of town in his ordinary afternoon
dress and by that particular train."

"Chap with the small dark moustache? Who do you mean by that?"

"Party that killed him. My 'phone to London Bridge station has cleared
the way a bit. It seems that Lord Stavornell engaged that compartment in
that particular train by telephone at three o'clock this afternoon. He
arrived all alone, and was in no end of a temper because the carriage
was dirty; had it swept out, and stood waiting while it was being done.
After that the porter says he found him laughing and talking with a
dark-moustached little man, apparently of continental origin, dressed in
a Norfolk suit and carrying a brown leather portmanteau. Of course, as
the platform was crowded, nobody seems to have taken any notice of the
dark-moustached little man; and the porter doesn't know where he went
nor when--only that he never saw him again. But I know where he went,
Mr. Narkom, and I know, too, what was in that portmanteau. An air
pistol, for one thing; also a mallet or hammer and that wet cloth we
found, both of which were for the purpose of smashing the electric light
globe without sound. And he went into that compartment with his victim!"

"Yes; but, man alive, how did he get out? Where did he go after that,
and what became of the brown leather po