"
"Good heavens," murmured Wessex, "I never knew."
"But after all," continued Inures, "it is just as well for
everyone concerned. The known facts are sufficient to establish
the murder, together with the report of Dr. Warwick Grey. But,
meanwhile, are we any nearer to learning the identity of the
murderer?"
"We are not!" said Wessex, grimly. "And what's more, when I get
to Scotland Yard, I have got to face the music. First Mr. Harley
goes, and now Nicol Brinn has disappeared!"
"It's almost unbelievable!"
"I took him for a white man," said the detective, earnestly. "I
accepted his parole for twenty-four hours. The twenty-four hours
expired about noon to-day, but since he played that trick on
Stokes last night and went out of his chambers, he has vanished
utterly."
Innes stood up excitedly.
"Your ideas may be all wrong, Wessex!" he cried. "Don't you see
that he may have gone the same way as the chief?"
"He was mightily anxious to get out, at any rate."
"And you have no idea where he went?"
"Not the slightest. Following his performance of last night, of
course I was compelled to instal a man in the chambers, and this
morning someone rang up from the house of Lord Wolverham; he is
commanding officer of one of the Guards battalions, I believe. It
appears that Mr. Nicol Brinn not only locked up a representative
of the Criminal Investigation Department, but also stole a Rolls
Royce car from outside the Cavalry Club!"
"What!" cried Innes.
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