When the truth came home to him, that he was very effectively locked in as it were, he banged on the door with his fists and shouted for assistance.” Godfrey broke off and looked at Bannister. “Interested?” he queried. “I am that,” replied the Inspector, “get on!” “After a time, Branston’s cries attracted the attention of his housekeeper, a Mrs. Bertenshaw—she rushed up to the work-room, undid the bolt and let him out. Unable for the moment to fathom the affair—he dashed back to the surgery. To his utter consternation and horror the young lady he had just left there—was dead. She was sitting in the operating chair exactly as he had left her about ten minutes previously, except for the fact that the tumbler was on the stand by the side of the chair. She had been _murdered_, Inspector! Poisoned! By Prussic Acid!” Chapter IV A Case of Identity “Certain of that?” queried Bannister. “How do you know she didn’t commit suicide?” The Sergeant nodded vigorously in affirmation of the Inspector’s first question. “It’s murder for certain! All her personal belongings seem to have been taken and all around the poor girl’s mouth hung that unmistakable bitter almonds smell. You couldn’t mistake it. I was sure that’s what it was before Doctor Renfrew, the divisional surgeon, arrived. When he did he quickly confirmed my idea. He says she had a pretty considerable dose of the stuff, too. Enough to kill three people. The murderer, whoever he was, didn’t intend taking any risks. Besides Branston’s story rules out the idea of suicide.” “H’m,” said Bannister fingering his chin reflectively, “it certainly seems an extraordinary case. At first appearances to all events. It all seems to have been done in so short a time. Still it may turn out quite a simple affair before you’ve done with it.” A grim smile played round Godfrey’s lips. Albeit he strove hard to conceal his disappointment. “I was hoping you would say ‘before _we’ve_ done with it,’” he ventured. Bannister frowned. “You were—were you?” Then he turned to his companion with a mixture of impatience and ill-temper. “Can’t you leave me alone when I’m on a holiday? For a time at least, that is. As I said it may be quite an easy case to solve when you get all your data!” Godfrey looked dismayed at the Inspector’s remark. “No chance of that, I’m afraid, sir,” he said. “The fact is I can’t see any light at all. I’m up against it from the very commencement. I don’t even know _who the young lady is_.” “What?” interjected Bannister. “Surely she has something on her or with her that will help to identify her—it’s inconceivable to me that she hasn’t.”