“And there is this too, sir.” Reggie held out the sliver of steel. “I saw the puncture. I was coming to that. Humph! Whoever put this in meant business.” “And didn’t know his job. It slipped along the bone and missed everything.” Sir Lawson turned the thing over. “A woman’s hatpin. About half a woman’s hatpin.” “Fresh fracture. Broke as it was pushed in.” “They’re a wild lot,” said Sir Lawson, and smiled. “You have no nerves, Fortune?” “I believe not, sir.” “This ought to be the making of you. You want shaking up. You must stay in the house. By the way, who’s in the house?” “The Archduchess, of course----” “Ianthe. Yes. Aunt’s in a mad-house. Ianthe. Yes. Crazy on motoring. Drives her own car. And have you see Ianthe--since?” Sir Lawson nodded at the body on the bed. “She is very excited.” “Is she really?” Sir Lawson laughed. “Is she, though? How surprising!” “She is surprising, sir.” “What? What? Be careful, my boy. Handsome creature, isn’t she?” “Yes, sir.” Reggie declined to be amused. “The Archduke Leopold is staying with them.” “Leopold. He’s the dandy entomologist. He’s tame enough. Well, he’s the head of the house after this fellow. Better tell him.” He blinked at Reggie. “You have nurses you can trust? Well, we’ll stay in the room till one comes, my boy. Our friend of the hatpin won’t miss a chance. These Royal families they’re a criss-cross of criminal tendencies. Hohenzollerns, Hapsburgs, Pragas, Wittelsbachs--look at the heredity.” “There was another running-down case here tonight. The man was killed--fractured skull. He was left on the road too. And another queer thing--he was much the same build as the Archduke Maurice.” “Good Gad!” Sir Lawson was startled out of his omniscient manner, an event unknown in Reggie’s experience. “There’s something devilish in it, Fortune. One murder--the wrong man dead--and then try again at once the same way. Imagine the creature looking at that poor dead wretch and jumping on the car again to drive it on at the other man. Diabolical! Diabolical!” “I don’t think I have much imagination, sir,” said Reggie, who was not impressed by ineffective emotion. There was a gentle tap at the door, a nurse came and was given her instructions, and the two men went down to the Archduke Leopold. He had changed his clothes. He was now in a claret-coloured velvet which did violence to his complexion and his pale beard. He sat in the smoking-room with a book on the entomology of Java and a glass of eau sucrée. He smiled at them and waved them to chairs. “I have to tell you, sir, that your brother lies in grave danger,” said Sir Lawson. Reggie looked at him sideways. “Ah, the concussion! It is serious, then? I am deeply distressed.” “The concussion is most serious. There’s another matter. In your brother’s chest above the heart, at which it must have been aimed, we have found--this.” “Mon Dieu! It is a hatpin--a woman’s hatpin. But it is incredible! It is murder.” “Attempted murder.”