“Just a moment,” the detective smiled. “We can go over the obvious details of the case right here. Of course, there will be a further and thorough inquiry. But as it stands the case is rather simple. In the first place, we have here the signs of what seems to have been a terrific struggle between the dead man and some assailant. The struggle took place without attracting the attention of Jane. Pictures were ripped from the walls, pottery smashed, chairs overturned, books torn and thrown around in a fight between Mr. Ballau and, as I say, a possible assailant. “You will notice, however”—and Norton’s impassive face warmed under the stimulus of his reasoning—“you will notice that Mr. Ballau’s attire is absolutely undisturbed. He had evidently dressed himself for the party tonight. It’s a fresh dress shirt he has on. I’ve looked at it through a glass. There isn’t a soil or a finger mark on it. The tie hasn’t been disarranged nor has the collar been touched. All fresh and clean as a daisy. The murderer might have straightened the dead man’s clothes, but he couldn’t remove the evidence his hands would have left—soils, wrinkles and the like on the linen—during a struggle. “You’ll notice again that this table here seems to have been set for two. One peculiar thing about it is that there are no knives or forks and no evidences of food. Another peculiar thing is that the wine bottle is empty and has been empty for at least a year. You’ll find, if you look closely, that there is dust inside the neck of the bottle and that all odor of wine has long gone from it.” De Medici was listening in amazement, thinking behind the words of the detective, “He’s clever. A man clever enough to piece together these observations would not be telling me all he knew or thought. He’s holding something back.... Yes ... it’s a ruse to disarm someone. Me, perhaps. He keeps looking at my fingers. I should have washed them.” When Norton paused De Medici said aloud: “But the thing in his hand. The false beard. He tore that off somebody.” “Yes,” Norton answered, “off himself before he died. If you’ll look closely you’ll see there are evidences of gum mucilage on his chin.” De Medici stood up slowly. “The whole thing is insane, lieutenant,” he muttered. “Why should a man about to commit suicide disguise himself in a false beard?” “You’ll see in a moment.” Norton waved him back to his chair. “I’ll give you my theory now and we’ll see if it will stand up under investigation. I purposely avoided asking the housekeeper a question. Now listen. Mr. Ballau desired to establish the fact that there was a stranger in the house. He put the beard on and showed himself thus disguised to his housekeeper. I’m sure we’ll find on asking her that there was a visitor here—a man with a black Vandyke. That she caught a brief glimpse of him. Call the Mayfield woman again, sergeant.” De Medici waited in silence as the man at the door stepped out.