"Ah, you've been reading sensational fiction," he interrupted. "Let us stick to facts. The call must have been a deliberate one and would take time. There was evidently no desperate struggle in this room last night. The position of the two chairs by the hearth suggests that two persons at some time during the evening were sitting here together--one of them a man, since the hearth shows that he smoked. The time would be somewhere between six o'clock, when the servant went out, and nine-thirty, when the telephone message was received. If Baker can fix the time of the taxi's arrival in Melbury Avenue, perhaps we can be even more accurate." "The taxi wasn't there at half-past seven," said the constable. "Then we may say between seven-thirty and nine-thirty," said Quarles. "Now the only thing which suggests violence of any kind is the instrument hanging over the table. Had the person using it been forcibly dragged away, the instrument might have fallen in that position, but it would have been a stupendous miracle if the receiver had swung to its place on the hook. No, Wigan, the receiver was replaced carefully to cut the connection, and the instrument was probably hung as it is deliberately to attract attention. I come back to my question, then: Why was the police station rung up at all?" I did not answer, and Baker shook his head in sympathy. "I do not attempt to suggest what occurred while the two sat here by the fire," said Quarles, "but whatever it was, somebody wished it to be known that something had happened. That is my answer to the question. The message suggests murder. As the house has not yet been thoroughly searched, murder may actually have taken place." Baker started, and I looked at the professor in astonishment. "You think Mrs. Fitzroy is lying dead somewhere in this house?" I said. "I have a theory which we may put to the test at once," returned Quarles. "In the cellars, I suppose?" "No, Wigan; we'll look everywhere else first. I expect to find a body, and not very securely hidden either; there wouldn't be much time; and, besides, I believe it is meant to be found. Still I do not expect to find Mrs. Fitzroy's body. I expect to find a dead man. Shall we go and look?" A man in my profession perforce gets used to coming in contact with death in various forms, but there is always a certain thrill in doing so, and in the present search there was something uncanny. The quest was not a long one. In a small bedroom on the first floor, sparsely furnished and evidently used chiefly as a box-room, we found the body of a man under the bed. A cord had been thrown round his neck and he had been strangled fiercely and with powerful hands at the work. "Not a woman's doing," said Quarles as he knelt down to examine the corpse. There were no papers of any kind in the pockets, but there was money and a cigar case.