“Ha!” exclaimed Badger, rubbing his hands. “Now, what time did you let him in?” “It was just after ten-fifteen.” “Can you tell us what he was like and how he was dressed?” “Yes,” was the reply. “He didn’t know where Tanfield Court was, and I had to walk down and show him, so I was able to have a good look at him. He was a middle-sized man, rather thin, dark hair, small moustache, no beard, and he had a long, sharp nose with a bump on the bridge. He wore a soft felt hat, a loose light overcoat, and he carried a thickish rough stick.” “What class of man was he? Seem to be a gentleman?” “He was quite a gentlemanly kind of man, so far as I could judge, but he looked a bit shabby as to his clothes.” “Did you let him out?” “Yes. He came to the gate a few minutes before eleven.” “And did you notice anything unusual about him then?” “I did,” the porter replied impressively. “I noticed that his collar was all crumpled and his hat was dusty and dented. His face was a bit red, and he looked rather upset, as if he had been having a tussle with somebody. I looked at him particularly and wondered what had been happening, seeing that Mr. Herrington was a quiet, elderly gentleman, though he was certainly a bit peppery at times.” The inspector took down these particulars gleefully in a large note-book and asked: “Is that all you know of the affair?” And when the porter replied that it was, he said: “Then I will ask you to read this statement and sign your name below it.” The porter read through his statement and carefully signed his name at the foot. He was about to depart when Badger said: “Before you go, perhaps you had better help us to move the body into the bedroom. It isn’t decent to leave it lying there.” Accordingly the four of us lifted the dead man and carried him into the bedroom, where we laid him on the undisturbed bed and covered him with a rug. Then the porter was dismissed, with instructions to send in Mrs. Runt. The laundress’s statement was substantially a repetition of what Mr. Bidwell had told me. She had let herself into the chambers in the usual way, had come suddenly on the dead body of the tenant, and had forthwith rushed downstairs to give the alarm. When she had concluded, the inspector stood for a few moments looking thoughtfully at his notes. “I suppose,” he said presently, “you haven’t looked round these chambers this morning? Can’t say if there is anything unusual about them, or anything missing?” The laundress shook her head. “I was too upset,” she said, with another furtive glance at the place where the corpse had lain; “but,” she added, letting her eyes roam vaguely round the room, “there doesn’t seem to be anything missing, so far as I can see--wait! Yes, there is. There’s something gone from that nail on the wall; and it was there yesterday morning, because I remember dusting it.” “Ha!” exclaimed Badger. “Now what was it that was hanging on that nail?”