“In that other private office,” pointing to an adjoining room into which a door gave communication a little to the right of the desk on which the body lay, and separated from the office they were in by a heavy division wall. The door was closed, but a transom above the door stood wide open, as Nick was quick to note. He lost no time in fixing in his mind the location of this room in its connection with the other two. It formed the L to the suite, and had no direct communication with the large or general office. There were two doors only to this third room. One connected it with the room in which the body was found and the other opened into the hall. Therefore, to get into that room, it was necessary to enter either directly from the hall or through both the other offices. “This is Mr. Byke’s private office, I suppose?” “Yes.” “And you, as his confidential clerk, have your desk in there?” “Only in his absence; when he is at home, I occupy a desk in the large office.” “Were you in there at your desk to-day?” “Not since noon.” “You were absent since noon?” “Yes, until I returned just in time to be ‘in at the death.’” There was a bad attempt to smile, as this was said, but the smile was painfully forced. “Then you know nothing about the manner of the tragedy?” “Nothing.” “You and Redway were exchanging hot words when I surprised you. What was it that passed between you?” “I accused him of having killed Miss Langdon.” “And what reply did he make?” “He was insolent. Asked me what I intended to do about it, and wanted to know what proofs I had to fortify my charges.” “And then?” “You came almost before I could reply.” “And have you any proofs?” “Nothing but suspicion.” “On what is that suspicion based?” “Well, I’ve noticed that Miss Langdon has been growing fond of him for the last few months. She showed it frequently. I imagined that he at first received her preferences with pleasure, but that of late they had become annoying to him.” “That is the result of observation only?” “That is all. I may be mistaken, too, you know.” “Has Redway a family?” “Do you mean is he married?” “Yes. Has he a wife, children, or relatives with whom he lives?” “I believe not--not that any one knows of.” “Where does he live?” “In bachelor apartments on Fifty-fifth street.” “That will do for the present, Mr. Gay.” The young man arose, and started to go into the other private room by way of the communicating door, but Nick stopped him. “Not there, Mr. Gay. You will be so kind as to remain in the outer office until we have questioned the other parties.” Gay scowled and went reluctantly back to the large office. Nick gave the coroner a significant look, and remarked: “He seems to be very anxious to get into that closed room, but he’ll not do it till I’ve had a look in there first myself.” “What do you make of this Oscar Gay?” asked the coroner. “Nothing--yet. We’ll now see what Victor Redway has to say.” CHAPTER IV.