“Without, for the moment. You and I are two old law-breakers, Tappatt; we have never been great sticklers for formality.” By this time he had walked through the gate, and, curiously enough, he did not seem to expect the dogs. Tappatt noticed this and grew even more alert. He had matched his brain against this sometime chief of police, and so far the honours were with him, he felt. “I can’t resist you, Dorn,” he said, and waved his hand to the open door of the house. “Step right in.” Michael did not require a second invitation. He strolled carelessly into the house, and turned to the study as though he had been there before. Following him, the doctor closed the door. “Now, what do you want?” “I wish to search these premises--I am seeking a lady named Pinder and her daughter, Lois Margeritta Reddle, whom I believe are forcibly detained here.” Tappatt shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re on a wild goose chase. Neither of these ladies are inmates of my house. In fact, I have no patients just now----” “Nor yet a licence to take patients,” added Michael. “I took the trouble to look up the records--they are available even in the middle of the night--fearing that short-memoried authority had overlooked your many grievous faults; I was happy that the official mind has showed commendable discretion.” “I haven’t applied for a licence,” said Tappatt shortly. Any question regarding his profession touched him on the raw. “I don’t see why I should allow you to make a search,” he went on. “You have no more authority to act as a detective than I have to run a mental home. You can start here--look under the table or under the sofa,” he grew heavily sarcastic, “I may have some unfortunate person concealed there!” Dorn walked from the room, along the passage, and stopped at the door at the foot of the stairs, turning the handle. “My housekeeper’s room.” “Where is she?” asked Michael. “She’s in the kitchen.” Michael passed into the room, pulled up the blinds and again looked round. Though he did not show by any sign his state of mind he was neither uneasy nor unalarmed at the readiness with which permission had been given to him to make the search. Rather were matters working out according to his expectations. “There are two rooms upstairs; would you like to see them?” Dorn nodded and followed on the man’s heels to the landing. “This is a ward I should use if I had luck enough to get a patient.” He threw open the door of what had been Lois’ room. It was empty; the bed was stripped of all its clothes and the blankets were neatly folded at the foot. Michael walked into the room, inspected the little bathroom, tried the windows, and came out without a word. Most women use a distinctive perfume. He had noted that Lois was faintly fragrant of lavender--the room had that scent too.