He rose from his seat and began to walk to and fro. "The whole mystery lies in the tattooing," he muttered to himself. "If I can only find out why Sir Gregory permitted that cross to be tattooed; and why he went to Tooley's Alley to have it done, I shall discover the assassin." "Hersham has a tattooed cross on his left arm," said Garth, "perhaps he can explain the riddle." "Perhaps he can; perhaps he can't," returned Fanks, sharply. "The coincidence is certainly curious. I shall see and question Hersham; but there is much to be done before then. You must help me, Garth." "I am willing to do whatever you wish, my friend." "Ah," said Fanks with a smile, "you have a touch of detective fever. I suffer from it myself notwithstanding my experience. The unravelling of these criminal problems is like gambling; a never-failing source of excitement; and, like gambling, chance enters largely into their solution." "I don't see much 'chance' in this case." "Don't you think again. Why, the very fact that you and I should know that Hersham has a tattooed cross on his left arm is a chance. Such knowledge--which is mere chance knowledge--might lead to nothing; on the other hand, it may help to find the man who killed your cousin." "Surely you do not suspect Hersham?" "Certainly not. Why should I suspect him on the evidence of the tattooed cross. For all I or you know, it may be a simple coincidence, such as crops up constantly in real life. No. I don't suspect Hersham." "Do you suspect anyone?" "I don't suspect any special person of committing the murder; but I suspect some people, and particularly one individual, of knowing more than they chose to say. But this is beside the point. I wish you to help me." "By all means. What is it you want me to do?" "You know the chambers of your cousin; by my desire they have been in the hands of the police since his death. Fellenger's valet is also there--detained by my desire. Now I wish to search the chambers for possible evidence and to examine him. You must take me there at once." "Is it necessary when, by your own showing, you are all-supreme already?" "My friend," said Fanks, solemnly, "it is my experience that when the lower orders--to which this valet belongs--come into contact with a detective they are quite useless as witnesses, for the very simple reason that the presence of the law paralyses them. To avoid this danger you must introduce me into the chambers as a sympathising friend only. You can question the servant in my presence, and having got rid of him in the meantime, we can search the chambers together." "But the police may recognise you." "The police have their instructions; they will recognise me as Mr. Rixton, of the West End." Garth fell in readily with this scheme, and together the two men left the club. As they proceeded along Piccadilly--the dead man's chambers were in Half-Moon Street--Fanks resumed the conversation from the point where it had been broken off.