“I confess it puzzles me,” replied the other. “On top of these two puzzling facts,” went on Freyberger, “we have the death of Leloir the valet.” “He may have opened the bag and come upon the head.” “I have thought of that, but the explanation does not satisfy me, for, from the expression of his face—” Freyberger stopped. “Yes?” “Well, I am convinced he saw something worse than an ordinary human head.” “Remember that to open a bag and find a grizzly thing like that would give even the most stout-hearted man a shock.” Freyberger shook his head. “There was a look of wild horror on his face that was caused, by what I know not, by what I even fail to imagine, but by something, I am very sure, much worse than the sight of a human head. I can almost fancy—” “Well?” Freyberger gave a little laugh, as if at the idea that had struck him. “I can almost fancy a man dying with an expression on his face like that after he had seen the—unimaginable. Excuse me, I am a German by birth, and we Germans have wild thoughts sometimes. Let me be practical. With your permission I will telephone now to Coutts’s, they are Sir Anthony’s bankers; it may be as well to see if they have any knowledge of his movements.” “Use the telephone,” replied the Chief. Freyberger went to the instrument, spoke through it, received an answer, and spoke again. Then he listened attentively, and as he listened a faint smile stole over his face. “He has been there at ten o’clock this morning, just as they opened, taken the box containing his late wife’s jewels, given a receipt for it, and departed. He evidently determined to collect all his resources. He has done it with great coolness. No professional criminal could have done it better.” “You must remember he was a financier,” said the other. “True,” replied Freyberger, “and now, if you will permit me, sir, I will go about the business of finding the cabman who drove him this morning, or last night. He is pretty certain—” He stopped, for at that moment a knock came to the door and a sergeant appeared. “Telephone from Vine Street, sir, relative to 110B Piccadilly. A dismembered human head has been discovered.” “Ha!” said the chief. “Any details?” “No, sir, only the statement.” The Chief went to his private telephone and spoke through, “Messenger come with word, no details, go at once Freyberger and report.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XIV FREYBERGER once told me that he often admired the fictional detective, because of the ingenuity of his maker; but that the method of Lecocq, Sherlock Holmes and Co., had a great defect if used in the pursuit of a master criminal.