t you wouldn't persuade
me that you haven't some very distinct theory as to how that crime was
worked, and the sort of person who did it. Eh, Mr. Jacks?"

"We are perhaps not quite so ignorant as we seem," the Inspector
answered, "and of course you are right when you say that we have a few
more facts to go by than have appeared in the newspapers. Still, the
affair is an extremely puzzling one,--as puzzling, in its way," Mr.
Jacks continued, "as the murder on the very next evening of this young
American gentleman."

Mr. Coulson nodded sympathetically. The drinks were brought, and he
raised his glass to his guest.

"Here's luck!" he said--"luck to you with your game of human chess, and
luck to me with my woollen machinery patents! You were speaking of that
second murder," he remarked, setting down his glass. "I haven't noticed
the papers much this morning. Has any arrest been made yet?"

"Not yet," the Inspector admitted. "To tell you the truth, we find it
almost as puzzling an affair as the one in which Mr. Hamilton Fynes was
concerned."

Mr. Coulson nodded. He seemed content, at this stage in their
conversation, to assume the role of listener.

"You read the particulars of the murder of Mr. Vanderpole, I suppose?"
the Inspector asked.

"Every word," Mr. Coulson answered. "Most interesting thing I've seen in
an English newspaper since I landed. Didn't sound like London somehow.
Gray old law-abiding place, my partner always calls it."

"I am going to be quite frank with you, Mr. Coulson," the Inspector
continued. "I am going to tell you exactly why I have come to see you
again tonight."

"Why, that's good," Mr. Coulson declared. "I like to know everything a
man's got in his mind."

"I have come to you," the Inspector said, "because, by a somewhat
curious coincidence, I find that, besides your slight acquaintance with
and knowledge of Mr. Hamilton Fynes, you were also acquainted with this
Mr. Richard Vanderpole,--that you were," he continued, knocking the
ash off his cigar and speaking a little more slowly, "the last person,
except the driver of the taxicab, to have seen him alive."

Mr. Coulson turned slowly around and faced his companion.

"Now, how the devil do you know that?" he asked.

The Inspector smiled tolerantly.

"Well," he said, "that is very simple. The taxicab started from here.
Mr. Vanderpole had been visiting some one in the hotel. There was not
the slightest difficulty in ascertaining tha