ttle way off with fear on her face, uttered
an inarticulate noise, and took a step towards the inspector and
her daughter.

"Better not interfere, Mrs. Hill, unless you want to make matters worse,"
said the inspector meaningly. "Now, tell me, Daphne, dear, when did your
father come home?"

"Not till morning," replied the little girl, with a timid glance at
her mother.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I slept in Mother's bed that night with Mother, like I always do
when Father is away, but Father came home in the morning and lifted me
into my own bed, because he said he wanted to go to bed."

"What time was that, Daphne?"

"I don't know, sir."

"It was light, Daphne? You could see?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

Inspector Chippenfield told the child she was a good girl, and gave her
sixpence. The little one slipped off his knee and ran across to her
mother with delight, to show the coin; all unconscious that she had
betrayed her father. The mother pushed the child from her with a
heart-broken gesture.

A heavy step was heard in the shop, and the inspector, looking through
the window, saw Rolfe. He opened the door leading from the shop and
beckoned his subordinate in.

Rolfe was excited, and looked like a man burdened with weighty news. He
whispered a word in Inspector Chippenfield's ear.

"Let's go into the shop," said Inspector Chippenfield promptly. "But,
first, I'll make things safe here." He locked the door leading to the
kitchen, put the key into his pocket, and followed his colleague into the
shop. "Now, Rolfe, what is it?"

"I've found out that Hill put in nearly the whole day after the murder
drinking in a wine tavern. He sat there like a man in a dream and spoke
to nobody. The only thing he took any interest in was the evening papers.
He bought about a dozen of them during the afternoon."

"Where was this?" asked the inspector.

"At a little wine tavern in High Street, where he's never been seen
before. The man who keeps the place gave me a good description of him,
though. Hill went there about ten o'clock in the morning, and started
drinking port wine, and as fast as the evening papers came out he sent
the boy out for them, glanced through them, and then crumpled them up. He
stayed there till after five o'clock. By that time the 6.30 editions
would reach Camden Town, and if you remember it was the six-thirty
editions which had the first news of the murder. The tavern-keeper
declares that Hill drank n