rincess by a nod. "Take this woman to the detention room. She will
be paraded for identification in half an hour."

The detention room of a London police station is a compromise between
the comparative luxury of a waiting-room and the harshness of a cell.
Like a waiting-room it is furnished with chairs and tables, and like a
cell its door is provided with a strong, self-acting lock. The Princess
Petrovska gritted her teeth viciously as she was left alone, and paid no
heed to the magazines and papers left on the table--a consideration for
visitors that had not been discernible in the waiting-room.

Meanwhile, Foyle had set every available man of the divisional
detachment of the C.I.D. busily at work. A couple had been sent to
verify the account given by the woman of her movements on the night when
the murder occurred. The remainder had been sent to bring in a score of
women, the wives and daughters of inspectors and other senior officers.

Detective-Inspector Taylor had turned up with Wills, who was informed of
the part he had to play.

"You say you couldn't recognise the woman who came out of Lord
Burghley's house. Now we're going to give you another try. We don't want
you to pick any one out unless you're absolutely sure. Mind that."

Some of the women who had been fetched in by the detectives were
rejected by Foyle as being too unlike the Princess. He intended the
identification test to be as fair as possible. The ten who finally took
their places in the high-pitched charge room were as nearly like the
Princess in build and dress as could be managed from the choice
afforded. They stood in a row on the opposite side of the room from the
steel-railed dock and the high desk. Then Lola was brought in. Her head
was held high, and her lips curled superciliously as she took in the
arrangements.

"Please choose a position among these ladies," said Foyle urbanely. "You
may stand anywhere you like."

There was an angry glitter in her dark eyes as she obeyed. She was not
the sort of woman to risk a scene uselessly. Then Wills was brought in.
Foyle put a formal question to him.

"Have you seen any of these ladies before? Don't be in a hurry to
answer. Walk down the line and take a good look at each."

Wills slowly carried out his instructions. As he reached the last woman
he shook his head. Lola's eyes caught those of Foyle with a glance of
malicious triumph. But the superintendent was not done yet.

"Walk round the ro