Naturally there was great excitement over "The White Room Crime," as it soon came to be called. The inhabitants of Troy were shocked, as such a thing had never before happened in their locality. They found their holy quiet invaded by a host of reporters, detectives, policemen, idlers, and morbid folk who wished for new sensations. Mr. and Mrs. Fane left their child at the seaside and came up for the inquest, which was held at a quiet public-house in the neighbourhood. Fane insisted that the body should be taken away from Ajax Villa. "It should have been removed at once," he declared. "I don't know the woman. I never set eyes on her. My wife doesn't know her, and I can't conceive how she came to die in my place." "Do you alone own the latch-key?" It was Derrick who asked this question, and he eyed Fane sharply as the reply came. "I alone own the latch-key of my house," said Fane; "it is a peculiar lock. No other key but mine will fit it. See!" He produced a long slim key, upon which Derrick, unlocking a drawer, took out of it the key picked up by Mulligan. The two were identical in all respects. "You see," said Derrick in his turn, "a duplicate has been made. I noticed that the strange key was new when Mulligan showed it." "Where did you get this key?" "The young man who lured Mulligan away from the gate dropped it." "Very strange," said Fane in a puzzled tone. "I can't understand. I don't think the locksmith who made me my key can have made two, as I especially agreed with him that he was not to do so." "Have you his address?" "Yes. It is at my office in the city. I will give it to you. But I am sure the man is to be trusted. A most respectable tradesman." "Hum," said Derrick, scratching his chin. "Respectable tradesmen do queer things for money at times." "But why should this strange woman have been brought to this house--my house--to be murdered?" "I can't say. That is what we have to find out. You don't know this woman?" asked Derrick doubtfully. Fane was a smart, cheery-faced fellow with rather a weak mouth. He looked rather haggard, as he had practically risen from a sick-bed to obey the summons of the law. For the moment he appeared puzzled when Derrick spoke. Then he flashed an indignant look on him, and grew red. "Do you mean to insinuate that I did something underhand, Mr. Inspector?" he inquired excitedly. "Men admire pretty women," said Derrick dryly. "I do, like all men. At the same time I am faithful to my wife, whom I love very dearly. We are a most attached couple. And if you hint at anything wrong, sir, let me tell you that I was ill with a cold at the seaside when this crime was perpetrated. Also, had I been in town--had I known this woman--I certainly should not have brought her to my own house." "No! no! quite so," said Derrick soothingly. "I don't mean to hint for a moment that your character is not spotless. But this key, sir. Has it ever been out of your possession?"