Superintendent Bell came forward. “Here’s a sort of betting-book, sir. He put his luck at cards in it too. He was some gambler.” “Any names?” Lomas said quickly. “All sorts of names, sir. Nothing instructive, so to speak. You might say that’s curious.” He pointed to a page on which, in a large, blank space, appeared the one letter, “N.” Reggie leapt from the window-seat and rang the bell. “As ever the Superintendent touches the spot,” he laughed. Herbert Charlecote’s man-servant, pallid and frightened, answered the bell. “Now, my man, in one minute Dr. Newton will be at the door; you will let him in; he will ask for Mr. Herbert Charlecote; you will say nothing to him, nothing at all, and Superintendent Bell will be out in the hall to see that you do say nothing; you will show Dr. Newton in here. Go on, Bell. Look after him.” He bustled them out. “So ‘N’ stands for Newton, does it?” Lomas said. “How do you know he’ll come?” “Because he’s just driven up in his car. Because I ’phoned to say Mr. Herbert Charlecote was asking for Dr. Newton. Now you get in there.” He thrust Lomas into an inner room. Dr. Newton, more florid than ever, hurried in, and pulled up short at the sight of Reggie. “Mr. Fortune? Oh, delighted to meet you.” He was out of breath. “But I thought I was to see Mr. Charlecote.” “Did you though? That was very sanguine of you.” “I don’t understand you, Mr. Fortune. Are you here professionally?” “For the Criminal Investigation Department.” “Really, though, really?” Dr. Newton was still short of breath. “And it was you wanted to see me? Anything I can do, of course.” “You can tell me what was your little bet with Herbert Charlecote.” Dr. Newton lost some of his colour. “You bewilder me, Mr. Fortune. I am not a betting man. Pray explain yourself. And I must request you to take a different tone.” “Where is Herbert Charlecote?” “Well, where is he?” Dr. Newton echoed. “I confess I don’t understand the situation. I am told over the telephone that Mr. Charlecote wishes to see me, and----” “That gave you a bad quarter of an hour, didn’t it? There’s worse coming, Newton. Yesterday afternoon”--Reggie strolled round the table and put himself between Dr. Newton and the door--“yesterday afternoon you took Herbert Charlecote for a drive in your car. When you came to the Basingstoke Canal, a nice lonely place by the Basingstoke Canal, you clapped a chloroformed wad on his mouth, and when he was senseless you dropped him into the water and left him there to finish by drowning. It was a neat thing, Newton. But he was fished out, Newton, and I’ve been all the morning with him, Newton.” Dr. Newton began to laugh. “Do you really wish me to take this tale seriously, Mr. Fortune? Then I must refer you to my legal advisers. I am sure that you will see that I must.” He made for the door. “Not much,” Reggie said, and stood in his way.