Here he turned to Doctor Forsyth and addressed him personally. "Doctor," he said, "you may have wondered why the request was made to you to bring your surgical instruments and to meet these gentlemen here in the interests of science and the law. Let me confess that I made that request merely upon the off-chance of a theory of my own proving correct and requiring such services at your hands. I am now pretty thoroughly convinced that it _is_ correct, and that this man's death is the direct result of poison." "Poison, sir, poison?" "Yes, Mr. Naylor, poison. Accepting, on the evidence of that fearful injury to the head, the cause of death as being the result of a blow, you would not, of course, look for any other in the face of a thing so apparent. It was quite natural. Nevertheless, I am convinced that the man was poisoned, and that that poison was administered through the medium of drink. There is a distinct odour of alcohol still clinging about the mouth, so there can hardly be a question that death must have ensued soon after the taking of a drink, and that the man neither smoked nor ate afterward. In the presence of these witnesses, Doctor Forsyth, have the goodness to perform an autopsy and to subject the contents of the stomach to chemical analysis. I'll lay my life that if you do--I know my man! That's all for the present, gentlemen. I will leave you to witness the autopsy, and will call for the result to-morrow. My compliments to you all; good-night!" He turned and, beckoning Mr. Narkom to follow, walked out of the building and returned to the waiting limousine. "Where now, sir?" questioned Lennard, as he appeared. "To the River Colne," he replied. "Drive like the devil, and follow the river's course till I tell you to stop." The limousine took the angle of the building with a rush and went racing off through the moonlight at a mile-a-minute clip. CHAPTER XII A JANGLE OF PEALING BELLS The moon was high up over the tree-tops and the river, when they reached it, was a shining silver ribbon lying between sloping banks. Cleek, as they rushed along beside it, leaned forward with his elbow on the window-ledge and his cheek in his palm, and studied its shining surface narrowly. Of a sudden, however, he called out sharply "Stop!" The vehicle ran on for a yard or two and then came to a halt. Cleek, despite that fact, did not alight at once. Instead, he pulled down all the leather curtains, switched on the light, and taking out his note-book, began to write. His stylo travelled rapidly, but even at that it was a good six minutes before he tore out the leaves he had covered, switched off the light, and, opening the door, said "Come!" and stepped out with Mr. Narkom. Carefully folding the written leaves, he walked round to the front of the limousine and put the little bundle into Lennard's hand.