A neat maid, evidently Scotch, admitted the dazzling visitor to number 67; and Spenser Road waited and wondered. It was something to do with the Bond Street murder! Small girls appeared from doorways suddenly opened and darted off to advise less-watchful neighbors. Kerry, who had been at work until close upon dawn in the mysterious underworld of Soho was sleeping, but Mrs. Kerry received Mollie in a formal little drawing-room, which, unlike the cosy, homely dining-room, possessed that frigid atmosphere which belongs to uninhabited apartments. In a rather handsome cabinet were a number of trophies associated with the detective’s successful cases. The cabinet itself was a present from a Regent Street firm for whom Kerry had recovered valuable property. Mary Kerry, dressed in a plain blouse and skirt, exhibited no trace of nervousness in the presence of her aristocratic and fashionable caller. Indeed, Mollie afterwards declared that “she was quite a ladylike person. But rather tin tabernacley, my dear.” “Did ye wish to see Chief Inspector Kerry parteecularly?” asked Mary, watching her visitor with calm, observant eyes. “Oh, most particularly!” cried Mollie, in a flutter of excitement. “Of course I don’t know _what_ you must think of me for calling at such a preposterous hour, but there are some things that simply can’t wait.” “Aye,” murmured Mrs. Kerry. “’Twill be yon Bond Street affair?” “Oh, yes, it is, Mrs. Kerry. Doesn’t the very name of Bond Street turn your blood cold? I am simply shivering with fear!” “As the wife of a Chief Inspector I am maybe more used to tragedies than yoursel’, madam. But it surely is a sair grim business. My husband is resting now. He was hard at work a’ the night. Nae doubt ye’ll be wishin’ tee see him privately?” “Oh, if you please. I am so sorry to disturb him. I can imagine that he must be literally exhausted after spending a whole night among dreadful people.” Mary Kerry stood up. “If ye’ll excuse me for a moment I’ll awaken him,” she said. “Our household is sma’.” “Oh, of course! I quite understand, Mrs. Kerry! So sorry. But so good of you.” “Might I offer ye a glass o’ sherry an’ a biscuit?” “I simply couldn’t _dream_ of troubling you! Please don’t suggest such a thing. I feel covered with guilt already. Many thanks nevertheless.” Mary Kerry withdrew, leaving Mollie alone. As soon as the door closed Mollie stood up and began to inspect the trophies in the cabinet. She was far too restless and excited to remain sitting down. She looked at the presentation clock on the mantelpiece and puzzled over the signatures engraved upon a large silver dish which commemorated the joy displayed by the Criminal Investigation Department upon the occasion of Kerry’s promotion to the post of Chief Inspector.