At two o’clock a message came from Mabuse to ask how the Count was getting on. The footman said he was asleep, but he would go and look at him to make sure. Then he found him bathed in blood, where he had fallen from his arm-chair to the ground, his body now cold in death. The doctor’s messenger came into the room, looked at the corpse, and went back to report to his master. The man-servant did not know what to do. Since none of the Count’s relatives were in the neighbourhood and he did not know the Countess’s address, he felt he must inform the police first of all. But then, again, he was not sure which was the right office to go to to give such information, and it occurred to him that the State Attorney, Herr von Wenk, was an acquaintance of his master’s and had asked after him recently, so he drove to Munich, sought out the lawyer, and told his story. “Was the Count at home then all the time?” asked Wenk. “Yes, sir, all the time.” “Then why did you tell me on the telephone that the Count had gone on a journey?” “The doctor told me that on account of my master’s state no one was to be allowed to see him, and I must tell anybody who inquired that he had gone away. My master saw nobody but his doctor.” “What was the doctor’s name?” “I never heard his name, sir. I don’t know it.” Then Wenk remembered that Privy Councillor Wendel had given him a letter to Dr. Mabuse, and that the Count had used Wenk’s own telephone to make an appointment with this doctor. Wenk trembled as, struck by the horror of a strange suspicion, he described to the footman the figure of Dr. Mabuse as he had seen it recently at the Four Seasons Hall. He spoke of him as a tall man, stooping slightly, without beard or moustache, with a broad face and big nose and large grey eyes. When the man said, “Yes, he looked exactly like that,” Wenk grew pale as death. In a moment all the disconnected impressions, hazy ideas, vague recollections, half-defined thoughts and images which had been partially obliterated, but not altogether lost, gathered together in his mind. When Wenk had the hall emptied, why had Dr. Mabuse not asked the reason for this measure? Why had he not inquired whether he could continue his experiments at another time? Why had Wenk, who had seen a man whose back he had recognized go into the hall, not found him again inside? Why had the two men who would not obey the detective’s order to move on, suddenly done as they were told immediately Mabuse appeared? Why had Mabuse’s eyes, in the brief moment he had looked into them, affected him so powerfully, as if they sought to read something that lay hidden in his very soul and was now almost forgotten? He dismissed Count Told’s servant, and then tried to find Dr. Mabuse’s number in the telephone book, but it was not given there. Yet Mabuse had a telephone, for the Count had rung him up from this very house. The Privy Councillor knew the number.