n a brilliant, ruby-coloured tin foil; is to be found in most barbers'
and hairdressers' establishments, and is very heavily and peculiarly
perfumed. You will remember that, when I wanted to ascertain if the
odour of the _Huile Violette_ emanated from the body of the dead man or
not, I told you he _was_ scented, but _not_ with violets? Very well, the
scent which was upon him was the peculiar spicy fragrance of that
particular kind of cosmetic; and I had only to get one whiff of his
shirt bosom to understand what had been used to make those marks upon
it."

"My dear Cleek, could you be sure of that?" ventured Narkom. "I know the
kind of stuff you mean. But few Englishmen use it these days, though I
remember it was once very popular. It comes in light brown shades for
fair people, as well as in black for dark ones; and the Count was
extremely fair, almost flaxen. Could you be positive then that what you
smelt was not on his hair or moustache? If he had used the light sort it
would not show, remember."

"My dear Mr. Narkom, have you so poor an opinion of my methods that you
fancy I would be likely to be slipshod in my examination, and to pass
over so important a possibility as that? The man had brilliantine on his
hair and moustache, and the latter had been dressed with curling irons!
Believe me, when we find who put those marks upon him, we shall find
some one who is addicted to the use of black cosmetic of the kind which
I have mentioned."

And afterward, when the rush of events had crowded yet more important
ones from his mind, Mr. Maverick Narkom remembered those words and set
that statement down in his diary as another proof of the amazing
thoroughness and the shrewd far-sightedness of this remarkable man.

CHAPTER EIGHT

AILSA LORNE

Mrs. Raynor positively jumped as the premonitory knock trembled on the
door before Johnston the butler opened it and entered. Ordinarily she
was but little given to "nerves" and was by no means easily startled,
but this morning was a decided exception to the rule. And why not? You
don't get called up out of your bed every morning to learn that a
gentleman who had been walking about your tulip beds yesterday afternoon
had been barbarously murdered during the night in a house but a few
yards away. Nor is it pleasant to face the likelihood of getting your
name and your residence mentioned in the daily papers in connection with
a police affair, and to know that before nightfal