'What was his name, Miss Whichello, ma'am?' 'His name then, Mr Inspector, was Amaru!' 'A stage name I take it to be, ma'am!' 'Yes! a stage name.' 'What was his real name?' 'I can't say,' replied Miss Whichello, in a hesitating voice. 'I knew him only as Amaru.' 'Humph! here he called himself Jentham. Do you know anything about this murder, Miss Whichello, ma'am?' and the inspector fixed a blood-shot grey eye on the thick veil. 'No! no! I know nothing about the murder!' cried Miss Whichello in earnest tones. 'I heard that this man Jentham looked like a gipsy and was marked with a scar on the right cheek. From that description I thought that he might be Amaru, and I wish to see his body to be certain that I am right.' 'Well, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the stern Tinkler, after some deliberation, 'your request is out of the usual course of things; but knowing you as a good and charitable lady, and thinking you may throw some light on this mysterious crime--why, I'll show you the corpse with pleasure.' 'One moment,' said the old lady, laying a detaining hand on the inspector's blue cloth sleeve. 'I must tell you that I can throw no light on the subject; if I could I would. I simply desire to see the body of this man and to satisfy myself that he is Amaru.' 'Very good, Miss Whichello, ma'am; you shall see it.' 'And you'll not mention that I came here, Mr Inspector.' 'I give you my word, ma'am--the word of a soldier. This way, Miss Whichello, this way.' Following the rigid figure of the inspector, the little old lady was conducted by him to a small building of galvanised tin in the rear of the police-station. Several idlers were hanging about, amongst them being Miss Bell Mosk, who was trying to persuade a handsome young policeman to gratify her morbid curiosity. Her eyes opened to their widest width when she recognised Miss Whichello's silk cloak and poke bonnet, and saw them vanish into the dead-house. 'Well I never!' said Miss Mosk. 'I never thought she'd be fond of corpses at her time of life, seeing as she'll soon be one herself.' The little old lady and the inspector remained within for five or six minutes. When they came out the tears were falling fast beneath Miss Whichello's veil. 'Is that the man?' asked Tinkler, in a low voice. 'Yes!' replied Miss Whichello; 'that is the man I knew as Amaru.' CHAPTER XVI THE ZEAL OF INSPECTOR TINKLER