If I want to see either of you I shall ring up and
arrange a place of meeting. And just two other things. The first is that
I need hardly warn you to be as circumspect in your conversation as in
your evidence. Keep in mind that each stranger that you may meet may
be Morton or some other member of the gang. The second is that I should
like to keep in touch with you for the remainder of the day in case any
question might crop up before the inquest. Where will you be?"

"I shall stay in my club, Rover's, in Cranbourne Street. You can ring me
up."

"Good," Willis answered, rising to his feet. "Then let me say again how
pleased I am to have met you and heard your story. Five o'clock, then,
if you don't hear to the contrary."

When Merriman had taken his leave the inspector sat on at his desk, lost
in thought. This case bade fair to be the biggest he had ever handled,
and he was anxious to lay his plans so as to employ his time to the best
advantage. Two clearly defined lines of inquiry had already opened out,
and he was not clear which to follow. In the first place, there was the
obvious routine investigation suggested directly by the murder. That
comprised the finding of Miss Coburn, the learning of Mr. Coburn's life
history, the tracing of his movements during the last four or five days,
the finding of the purchaser of the black cloth, and the following up
of clues discovered during these inquiries. The second line was that
connected with the activities of the syndicate, and Willis was inclined
to believe that a complete understanding of these would automatically
solve the problem of the murder. He was wondering whether he should not
start an assistant on the routine business of the tragedy, while himself
concentrating on the pit-prop business, when his cogitations were
brought to an end by a messenger. A lady had called in connection with
the case.

"Miss Madeleine Coburn," thought Willis, as he gave orders for her to
be shown to his room, and when she entered he instantly recognized the
original of the photograph.

Madeleine's face was dead white and there was a strained look of horror
in her eyes, but she was perfectly calm and sell-possessed.

"Miss Coburn?" Willis said, as he rose and bowed. "I am afraid I can
guess why you have called. You saw the account in the paper?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "Is it--my father?"

Willis told her as gently as he could. She sat quite still for a few
moments, while he busied hi