"Why should I?" said Zirknitz, with a charming smile. "Murder is not pleasant. I don't like such things. And I might have got into trouble. I do not mind saying, doctor, that mine has been a life of adventure, and I care not for the police." "You are afraid," said Ellis, wondering at the selfishness and brutal candour of the confession. "_Certainement!_ I am afraid. Oh, think badly of me if you like. I am so bad that I can be no worse. But I shall help my sister over the money." "Because you hope to get some?" "Eh! why not? I am extravagant." Ellis felt a strong desire to kick this handsome, smiling rascal, but he doubted if even a kick would rouse any shame in him. The man seemed to have no moral sense; just such a soulless, brainless being who would commit a crime. The doctor began to look upon him as a psychological curiosity, and felt more convinced than ever that he had killed Moxton. The want of money supplied the motive. "Who do you think murdered Moxton?" he asked, resolved to startle the man into a confession. "Who do I think murdered Moxton," repeated Zirknitz, blandly. "Why, my dear Monsieur, I think Mr. Busham did." Ellis jumped up. "On what grounds do you make such an accusation?" "Ah, I will not tell you that now," replied Zirknitz, coolly. "I do not yet know you well. If Mrs. Moxton agrees I may do so." "But if you will--" "Oh, no, I tell nothing. See, the performance is over. We must go." While the Austrian was reassuming coat and hat, Ellis felt sorely tempted to tell him about the blood signs and accuse him of killing Moxton. But as yet he had not sufficient evidence, and it was unwise to put Zirknitz on his guard until he could get him into a corner. Before he could decide, the Austrian nodded and, still smiling, slipped out of the box. Ellis stooped to pick up his stick and followed almost immediately, only to find that Zirknitz had vanished into the crowd. What his attitude was towards himself, the doctor could not quite determine. "I shall question Mrs. Moxton about her brother," he reflected, as he went in search of Cass. The journalist was in the office of Schwartz, but came out when he heard Ellis inquiring for him. "How did you get on with Zirknitz?" he asked, as they hailed a hansom. "Oh, pretty well. He talked a great deal, and declared that Busham killed Moxton." "The deuce! How can he prove that?" "I don't know. He refused to give any proof, and cleared out before I could question him further. What did Schwartz want to see you about?" "To warn you and me against cultivating Zirknitz." "Is he a bad egg?" "The worst in the nest, from all accounts. I believe he killed Moxton on his own hook." "He denies that he was at Dukesfield on that night." "Denies it? Like his brass. Why, he left this hall to take Moxton home." "Who says so?" "Schwartz." "Do you believe Schwartz?"