The Yellow Claw | Page 8

flat, came a metallic clattering, followed by a little suppressed cry. Helen Cumberly, in daintiest deshabille, appeared in the lobby, carrying, in one hand, a chafing-dish, and, in the other, the lid. As she advanced toward the study, from whence she had heard her father's voice:--
"Why, Mr. Leroux!" she cried, "I shall CERTAINLY report you to Mira, now! You have not even touched the omelette!"
"Good God! Cumberly! stop her!" muttered Exel, uneasily. "The door was not latched!" . . .
But it was too late. Even as the physician turned to intercept his daughter, she crossed the threshold of the study. She stopped short at perceiving Exel; then, with a woman's unerring intuition, divined a tragedy, and, in the instant of divination, sought for, and found, the hub of the tragic wheel.
One swift glance she cast at the fur-clad form, prostrate.
The chafing-dish fell from her hand, and the omelette rolled, a grotesque mass, upon the carpet. She swayed, dizzily, raising one hand to her brow, but had recovered herself even as Leroux sprang forward to support her.
"All right, Leroux!" cried Cumberly; "I will take her upstairs again. Wait for me, Exel."
Exel nodded, lighted his cigar, and sat down in a chair, remote from the writing-table.
"Mira--my wife!" muttered Leroux, standing, looking after Dr. Cumberly and his daughter as they crossed the lobby. "She will report to--my wife." . . .
In the outer doorway, Helen Cumberly looked back over her shoulder, and her glance met that of Leroux. Hers was a healing glance and a strengthening glance; it braced him up as nothing else could have done. He turned to Exel.
"For Heaven's sake, Exel!" he said, evenly, "give me your advice-- give me your help; I am going to 'phone for the police."
Exel looked up with an odd expression.
"I am entirely at your service, Leroux," he said. "I can quite understand how this ghastly affair has shaken you up."
"It was so sudden," said the other, plaintively. "It is incredible that so much emotion can be crowded into so short a period of a man's life." . . .
Big Ben chimed the quarter after midnight. Leroux, eyes averted, walked to the writing-table, and took up the telephone.
III
INSPECTOR DUNBAR TAKES CHARGE
Detective-Inspector Dunbar was admitted by Dr. Cumberly. He was a man of notable height, large-boned, and built gauntly and squarely. His clothes fitted him ill, and through them one seemed to perceive the massive scaffolding of his frame. He had gray hair retiring above a high brow, but worn long and untidily at the back; a wire- like straight-cut mustache, also streaked with gray, which served to accentuate the grimness of his mouth and slightly undershot jaw. A massive head, with tawny, leonine eyes; indeed, altogether a leonine face, and a frame indicative of tremendous nervous energy.
In the entrance lobby he stood for a moment.
"My name is Cumberly," said the doctor, glancing at the card which the Scotland Yard man had proffered. "I occupy the flat above."
"Glad to know you, Dr. Cumberly," replied the detective in a light and not unpleasant voice--and the fierce eyes momentarily grew kindly.
"This--" continued Cumberly, drawing Dunbar forward into the study, "is my friend, Leroux--Henry Leroux, whose name you will know?"
"I have not that pleasure," replied Dunbar.
"Well," added Cumberly, "he is a famous novelist, and his flat, unfortunately, has been made the scene of a crime. This is Detective-Inspector Dunbar, who has come to solve our difficulties, Leroux." He turned to where Exel stood upon the hearth-rug--toying with his monocle. "Mr. John Exel, M. P."
"Glad to know you, gentlemen," said Dunbar.
Leroux rose from the armchair in which he had been sitting and stared, drearily, at the newcomer. Exel screwed the monocle into his right eye, and likewise surveyed the detective. Cumberly, taking a tumbler from the bureau, said:--
"A scotch-and-soda, Inspector?"
"It is a suggestion," said Dunbar, "that, coming from a medical man, appeals."
Whilst the doctor poured out the whisky and squirted the soda into the glass, Inspector Dunbar, standing squarely in the middle of the room, fixed his eyes upon the still form lying in the shadow of the writing-table.
"You will have been called in, doctor," he said, taking the proffered tumbler, "at the time of the crime?"
"Exactly!" replied Cumberly. "Mr. Leroux ran up to my fiat and summoned me to see the woman."
"What time would that be?"
"Big Ben had just struck the final stroke of twelve when I came out on to the landing."
"Mr. Leroux would be waiting there for you?"
"He stood in my entrance-lobby whilst I slipped on my dressing- gown, and we came down together."
"I was entering from the street," interrupted Exel, "as they were descending from above" . . .
"You can enter from the street, sir, in a moment," said Dunbar, holding up his hand. "One witness at a time, if you please."
Exel shrugged his shoulders and