'When you have done, sir, I will continue,' said the inspector testily. 'It was one of those large warehouses close by Water-street, which are let in floors, or flats as they call them in Scotland; each lock up separate to themselves, with a common stairway, and where, there being no porter resident on the place, the front door is always kept unfastened. I have spoken to the commissioners about that once or twice, suggesting an order should be issued to have some one responsible for those doors being locked, and if that had been the case there would have been no murder. It was an out-door clerk belonging to Triggs and Vyner, wool-staplers, on the third floor, that discovered the murder. He came about seven o'clock this morning, having forgotten his note-book last night, and being unable to start his rounds without it. When he got up to the first-floor landing, he found the dead man lying in a heap in the corner. He thought he was drunk at first--not a tramp, he could not have been that by his clothes, but some gentleman who had been dining out and mistaken his road home--but when he bent over him he found that the man was dead. There was very little blood on the floor, though his clothes were soaked with it. He had been stabbed to the heart with a long-bladed knife, more like a dagger, which was lying by his side. Such a stab, so straight and sure, I never saw before in my experience, nor our divisional surgeon neither. He says, if it weren't for reflecting upon the credit of the profession, he could almost swear it had not been done by any amateur.' 'Good Lord!' said the manager, by this time intensely interested. 'Well, what then?' 'Then, I was sent for,' resumed the inspector, 'and I came down, and by this time there was a crowd round the place, and my men had some difficulty in turning them out. Two or three of them I allowed to stop, and among them was old Tom Langman the flyman, who whispered to me that he recognised the body as that of the gentleman he had driven from this house to the docks, and who, he thought, was one of a large theatrical party now staying here.' 'Not now,' cried the manager, 'they're gone; went away yesterday in the Cuba. Why, good heavens, it must be number fourteen! He was to have gone back to London last night, but Miss Jennings told me he had changed his mind, and though he was not at home his things were still in his room.' 'Better send and see if they are there now,' said the inspector. 'What was the gentleman's name?' 'I cannot say,' said the manager. 'You see I was so taken up with listening ta Duval, and looking at Miss Montressor, and laughing at that funny fellow in the check suit, that I didn't take much notice of the others. I will call somebody to go up to fourteen, and--I beg your pardon, sir,' he exclaimed to the gentleman whom he found on the other side of the door just as he opened it, 'did you wish for anything?'