"You are a very wise young lady," said he, "and you will be the gainer in the end; of that I am sure. The Purple Emperor had always brought disaster in its wake, and, the story goes, will continue to do so until it is returned to its proper resting place in the empty eye-socket of Shiva. But time is short and I must go on with my story. If it bores you, simply tell me, but----" "_Bores_ us, Mr. Headland?" exclaimed Lady Brenton, excitedly. "When all our hearts are bound up in it? I can hardly wait to hear the end." Cleek smiled. "Then you shall not, dear lady," he responded, seating himself. "Well, in the first place, I soon found that there was a connection between the murder of Miss Cheyne and that of her old servant Elsie McBride. This Elsie McBride was the ole clo' woman I mentioned before who was murdered for apparently no reason whatever in the neighbourhood of Drury Lane. And that connection was the Cheyne Court jewels. Sam Blake formerly an actor himself I believe, no doubt by chance saw the photograph of Miss Cheyne, which she had given her servant on her marriage. From that time onward Blake the younger plotted and planned to find some scheme by which he could enter the house and eventually secure the jewels. Some scheme, that is, which didn't include his brother James. The fact of this stranger who visited the shop only wanting old woman's clothes and the theft of wigs pointed to the need of a disguise. When I found that the finger-prints of the impostor at Cheyne Court coincided with those of the dagger with which the old woman was killed, I knew I was on the right track. Then the smell of jasmine, which clung to everything, puzzled me. It is, as you are all doubtless aware, a favourite scent in the native bazaars of India, and for that reason I suspected the priests of Shiva when I knew them to be in the neighbourhood. For a time I even believed that it was one of their number that I saw cross the lawn of Cheyne Court on the night of the first murder until I met _you_, Miss Wynne. Then the smell of the jasmine and your footprints told me that you were there on that night, as well as on the night of the second murder. Did you then suspect your brother of having committed both murders, that you tried to bribe the butler, John? What were you doing at Cheyne Court the night when the real Miss Cheyne was shot?" He fixed his piercing eyes on Miss Jennifer, who had risen from her seat, her lips white and trembling. "What do you mean?" she said in a low, tense voice. "I don't understand! Are you some wizard or----" "Not quite such a fool of a policeman as you might once have thought," he responded, quietly. "I saw you cross the lawn that night, though I know you had no hand in the murder itself. Can you not tell us the reason of your presence there?"