“Listen, Perutkin,” said Smith. “I’m in no mood for jokes. I’m going to get at the bottom of this and damn soon, too. I want to know what’s the idea. I had a perfect case against this actor before your friend breezed in. He comes through with a confession and he beats it. Why?” “Well,” said the Russian, “my friend is not a practical joker. He wouldn’t perpetrate anything in such bad taste. He must have his reasons.” “It was a cheap trick!” Smith fumed. “Telling us to watch behind the door. ‘If you don’t trust me, have a revolver in your hand.’ And then taking the key with him, and locking us in!” Smith walked about angrily. The Russian laughed. “He followed my orders to the letter.” Smith stopped and stared at him. “You mean to say you told him to do that?” “Certainly, my friend,” said Perutkin. “I am his advisor. He asked me what to do. I told him.” “Oh! He asked you what to do!” mocked Smith. “Then you’ll kindly come across right now and tell me what it’s all about.” “Unfortunately,” said the Russian, “I don’t know myself. The Count went to the house without my knowledge. He telephoned me from the house, and if you want me to repeat the conversation, I shall be glad to. He said: ‘Boris Sergeivitch, I want to confess a murder.’ Just like that. And I said: ‘My friend, are you mad?’ And he said: ‘I want to confess a murder. The police are downstairs. But I don’t wish to pay the penalty.’ Well, I am his friend. I cannot ask him on the telephone: ‘What? Where?’ I gave him my advice. He acted accordingly. And that,” the Russian concluded, “is all I know.” “You haven’t seen him since?” Smith asked. Perutkin shook his head. “Well, you know where you can get him, don’t you?” “I might,” conceded the Russian. His little eyes gleamed suddenly. “I have a bargain to make with you. I have the best possible reasons in the world for being interested in this case. It fits in so completely with a case that absorbed me not so long ago, that is still not solved. Besides, I am aching for work, as I have told you. I shall find my friend, the Count, for you, and you can do with him what you wish. But on one condition.” “What’s that?” “That you give me a free hand in the investigation.” As Smith began to protest, he added: “Understand, I want no credit. I want no official status. I seek no kudos. I have a definite purpose in mind. If you help me, I shall help you.” Then, pleading, “Believe me, you shall not regret your decision. Then it is agreed!” Before Smith could even answer! “Wait a minute,” Smith interrupted. “Just exactly what do you want?” “Access to Mrs. Breese’s house, and all the facts as they are disclosed. Nothing more.” Smith nodded. “That’s all right,” he said. “I don’t see any harm in that. But you must produce the Count within one week or I shall have you arrested as accessory to the crime.” “Done!” exclaimed the Russian. “Now, Mr. Smith, you may rest easy. I shall untangle this little problem for you. First, the facts!”