Attracted by the news of the murder, a mob of raffish men and slatternly women had collected round the Red Star, but the presence of four policemen prevented them from entering the bar and drinking, as they desired to do. Fanks had no need to push through the crowd, for on recognising him they fell to right and left to leave him a free passage. Under his keen gaze a quiver of fear passed over many of the brutalised faces; and here and there some especial rogue, scared by the memory of lately committed crimes, shrank back into the shadows, lest this man, who personified the law, should discover and punish. Fanks was the Nemesis of Tooley's Alley; the god they desired to propitiate, and he was at once hated and feared by his debased worshippers. After exchanging a few words with the guardian policemen, Fanks entered the house, and was met in the passage by Crate and by Mrs. Boazoph. This latter, who appeared to be between forty and fifty years of age, was a slender and pallid-faced woman, with almost white hair smoothed back from her high forehead. She spoke habitually with folded hands and downcast eyes, and her voice was low and soft, with a refined accent. One would have taken this demure figure, clad in a plain dress of lustreless black, for an hospital nurse, or for a housekeeper. Yet she was--as the police asserted--the most dangerous woman in London, hand and glove with thieves and rogues: not for nothing had she gained her reputation and queenly title. "Well, Mrs. Boazoph," said Fanks, abruptly, "this last scandal will add largely to the excellent reputation already gained by your house." "No doubt of it, sir," replied the landlady, without raising her eyes; "it is most unfortunate." "And most unexpected?" "Certainly most unexpected, sir." The detective looked at her sharply, and noticed that her fingers played nervously with the stuff of her gown. Also he heard a tremor in her voice as she answered. Now Mrs. Boazoph was not easily upset; yet, as Fanks well saw, only her unusual self-control prevented her from having an attack of hysteria. To many men the circumstance of the crime having been committed in the house would have accounted for this. Fanks was too well acquainted with Queen Beelzeebub to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was disturbed by something more than the mere fact of the murder. "Do you know the man?" he asked, keeping his eyes fixed on her face. "No!" retorted Mrs. Boazoph, with suspicious promptitude. "I never set eyes on him until this evening." And with this hinted defiance she stared Fanks boldly in the face. When she saw that he was watching her twitching fingers, they became motionless on the instant. Only one conclusion could the detective draw from this behaviour; she knew more than she would own to, and she was afraid lest he should find it out. After another look, which discovered nothing--for she was now on her guard--Fanks turned sharply to Crate. "Where is the body?"