“Dear me! how terrible! how very terrible! She was my oldest friend----” he could not find the strength to repress his grief--“my oldest friend! Oh, it’s awful, inspector, awful! The--the wickedness of it! She hadn’t an enemy.” He struggled for the control of himself. “What was it--robbery?” “No, sir--nothing seems to be tampered with. Perhaps the murderer was startled.” “When was it discovered?” “This morning, when the maid brought in the tea. She says she heard nothing. She admits being a heavy sleeper.” “And there is nothing missing?” “Apparently not, sir. The drawers were locked, and the keys have not been interfered with. Nothing was disturbed, in fact.” “Ah!” Mr. Todmorden was gradually getting back into his legal clearness of mind. “Has the girl looked carefully round to see if anything has disappeared?” “I don’t know, sir.” “Call her up, if you please, officer.” Ellen appeared, still weeping, and was bidden to look round for anything out of place. Dabbing her eyes, she examined the room carefully. Suddenly she gave a cry. “The mistress’s diamond brooch! I put it here last night!” She pointed to a tray on the dressing-table. “It’s gone!” “Good God!” said Mr. Todmorden. “How very curious!” The inspectors looked at him sharply. “Does that give you any clue, sir?” asked one of them. “No--no,” he replied, rather confused. “I--the fact is, I was thinking of that brooch only last night, and of how unprotected Miss Hartley was. I have often told her so--poor woman!” “Ah!” said the inspectors in chorus. Mr. Todmorden felt there was something suspicious in their sharply uttered exclamation. Even to himself his explanation had sounded lame. The police-officers might imagine he was shielding somebody. The consciousness of his inability to explain how very startling the fulfilment of his fears had been to him made him feel awkward. “Of course,” he said, “the murderer must have come in by the ladder.” “The ladder?” asked one of the inspectors. “I saw no ladder.” “There was certainly a ladder resting against the sill of this window at six o’clock last night,” asserted Mr. Todmorden. “The house, you will observe, is being redecorated. I noticed the ladder, and it occurred to me that a first-class opportunity was being offered to a burglar. In fact, I was on the point of calling on Miss Hartley and warning her of it. I wish I had done so!” “H’m!” The inspector scarcely deigned to trifle with the suggestion. It could be understood that it was his professional prerogative to evolve theories. “Yes--perhaps. But I think we can explain the entrance in a more likely way,” he said, mysteriously. “It is scarcely probable that the decorator’s men would leave the ladder there all night, sir.”