When the chief went in person like this, it meant big things. He got into the _tonneau_ without enthusiasm, for he had so much on his mind that he did not relish the prospect of an additional burden, and the car started. It passed up Regent Street and then up Oxford Street in the direction of the Marble Arch, and straight on towards Notting Hill Gate. At Notting Hill Gate it turned down Silver Street, and turning the corner into High Street, Kensington, headed for Hammersmith. It had not gone more than a couple of hundred yards in this direction when it slowed, and a mounted constable, who had been slowly patrolling the street, turned his horse, and putting it to the trot led the way, turning sharply to the right from the High Street up St James’s Road. St James’s Road, not far from the grounds surrounding Holland House, has a touch of the provincial town suburb about it; every house has a garden in front of it, and every garden has one or more trees. It is a good middle-class neighbourhood; a few of the houses are let out in furnished apartments, though no bill or sign indicates the fact, but the majority of the inhabitants are of the professional or retired business class. About the middle of the road, by the right-hand kerb, a crowd of people could be made out. The car slowed down and stopped a few yards from the crowd, the chief and Freyberger alighted, and, led by a constable, passed through the throng up a garden path. The hall door, at which they knocked, was opened by a constable. “You have the body here?” asked the chief. “Yes, sir,” replied the man, saluting. “Bring us to it.” The constable opened a door on the right of the passage, disclosing a comfortably furnished sitting-room. A man was standing with his back to the mantelpiece. It did not require the tall hat, standing on the table with the stethoscope beside it, to indicate his profession. A middle-aged woman, evidently recovering from some great agitation, was standing by the table, and on the floor lay something covered with a sheet. “Shut the door,” said the chief to the constable; then turning to the man: “You are a doctor?” “Yes,” replied the other. “I was summoned nearly an hour ago, and have waited at the request of the police till your arrival. Life was extinct when I came.” “Thank you,” said the chief. “Sit down, Freyberger. A pen, ink and paper, please. Thanks.” Then to the constable, “Were you the officer called?” “I was called at ten-fifteen, being on point duty, arrived to find deceased lying on the pavement in front of his house. He was black in the face; and, thinking it was a case of a fit, I unbuttoned his collar and attempted artificial respiration on the pavement, as he lay, but without success. This lady, here, was standing by the corpse; there was also a crowd of some ten or twelve people. “This lady told me deceased lodged with her and that she believed he had been murdered.