Suddenly the telephone bell rang. Glad of the momentary diversion, he crossed to the instrument and unhooked the receiver. It was Lane’s voice that was speaking. The detective was late at his office, and it had occurred to him to ring up on the chance of finding Morrice in and making an appointment for to-morrow morning. He had that day, after much reflection, judged that it was time to precipitate matters—to launch his _coup_. “Ah, good-evening, Mr. Morrice. I have something of the utmost importance to communicate to you, and the sooner the better. Can I see you to-morrow?” The financier’s deep voice came back through the telephone. “To-morrow, certainly, any time you please, preferably in the morning. But, if convenient to you, come round at once. Mrs. Morrice is away; I am here alone.” Lane was rather glad to hear it. He answered that he would come at once. What he was about to tell Morrice was bound to produce a violent explosion, but it would not occur while he was in the house. A few moments later the detective stood in the financier’s private room, in a mood almost as serious as that of Morrice himself. CHAPTER XXI ROSABELLE HAS A GRIEVANCE “You have something of importance to communicate to me, Mr. Lane,” were Morrice’s first words. “Take a seat, please.” “Something of the greatest importance, and also, I am very sorry to say, of a most unpleasant nature. You must be prepared to receive a great shock, Mr. Morrice.” A grim smile fleeted across the financier’s gloomy countenance. He had already received a very startling shock, in time he would get inured to them. “It concerns a young man named Archibald Brookes who, I understand, is a frequent visitor at your house, also a member of your family, the alleged nephew of your wife and also of Sir George Clayton-Brookes, supposed to be her brother-in-law by the marriage of his brother Archibald, who died in Australia, to her sister.” At the two ominous words “alleged” and “supposed,” Morrice looked keenly at his visitor, but he made no comment. He knew this was a man who did not speak at random, who carefully weighed his utterances. What was he going to hear now? Well, nothing would surprise him after what he had already discovered for himself. Duplicity came naturally to some temperaments.