open earnestness, and somehow I feltthat he was telling me the curious truth.
"I certainly thought there were no exceptions," I said.
"I am one of the few," he replied. "They dare not place me in acriminal dock."
"Why?"
"For certain reasons"--and he smiled mysteriously--"reasons which you,if you become my friend, may some day discover. I live here in thisby-road of a London suburb, but this is not my home. I have another--along way from here."
And, turning from me suddenly, he addressed questions to Joseph, askinghim his opinion of me.
"Where's your coat?" screeched the bird. "Where's your coat? Goodnight!"
The whole scene was strangely weird and incongruous. Kirk at one momentspeaking of a remarkable tragedy and at the next chaffing his pet.
At last, however, I fixed my host to the point, and asked him straightout what had occurred.
"Well," he said, placing down his pipe and resting His protruding chinupon his right hand, as he gazed across at me, "just follow me for a fewmoments, and I'll describe, as best I can, all that is known of theaffair--or, rather, all I know of it. Do you happen to know SussexPlace, Regent's Park?"
I replied in the affirmative. It was, as you probably know yourself, ahighly respectable crescent of large houses overlooking the park.Entrance was gained from the road in the rear, for the houses faced thepark, perhaps one of the pleasantest rows of residences in London. Theoccupiers were mostly City merchants or well-to-do ladies.
"Well," he said, "in one of those houses there has lived for the pastfive years or so Professor Ernest Greer, the well-known chemist, who,among other appointments, holds the Waynflete Professorship of Chemistryat Oxford University. Though his age is only about fifty-five, hiswhole career has been devoted to scientific research, with the resultthat he has amassed a considerable fortune from royalties gained fromthe new process he patented four years ago for the hardening of steel.I dare say you've often seen his name mentioned in the papers. He was amost popular man, and, with his daughter Ethelwynn, often went intosociety. In addition to the Regent's Park house, they had a prettyseaside cottage down at Broadstairs."
"I've seen the Professor's name very often in the papers," I remarked,"in connection, I think, with the British Association. I read, not longago, an account of one of his interesting lectures at the LondonInstitution."
"Then you realise his high standing," said Kirk, interpolating an asideto Joseph. "Well, Mrs. Greer is dead, and the household at Regent'sPark consists of the Professor, Ethelwynn, her maid Morgan, twohousemaids, a female cook, and the butler Antonio Merli, an elderlyItalian, who has been in the Professor's service for nearly twentyyears. On the evening before last--that was Sunday--at twenty minutesto five o'clock, the Professor and his daughter were together in thelarge upstairs drawing-room, which overlooks the park, where Antonioserved tea. Five minutes later Antonio re-entered and handed his mastera telegram. The Professor, having read it, placed it upon the fire, andremarked that he would be compelled to go to Edinburgh that night by the11:30 from King's Cross, but would return in three days' time, for thegirl had accepted an invitation for the grand ball at Sutherland Houseto-morrow."
"The Professor sent no reply to the message?" I asked, much interested.
"No; but half an hour later his actions struck his daughter as somewhatpeculiar, for, having suddenly glanced up at the clock, he rose, crossedto one of the three long windows--the end one--and drew up the blind.Then, after a pause, he lowered it again. Then twice he pulled it upand down quickly, and returned again to where he was sitting. At least,that is his daughter's story."
"He signalled to somebody--using the Morse code, I should say."
"Exactly my theory, Mr. Holford. I note that you follow me," exclaimedthe friendless man. "You possess a keen sense of deduction, I see!"
"Apparently you don't believe this statement of Miss Ethelwynn's?" Isaid.
He sniffed quickly, but did not at first reply.
"The fact that he drew the blinds up and down at a preconcerted hourshows that he communicated with somebody who was awaiting the signaloutside in Regent's Park," he remarked at last.
"Well, what then?"
"At eight he dined, as usual, with his daughter, and after dinner thefaithful Antonio packed his kit-bag and suit-case, putting in onlysufficient clothes for a stay of three days. At her father's orderEthelwynn telephoned to the station-master's office at King's Cross andsecured a sleeping berth in the 11:30 express for Edinburgh. At aquarter to eleven o'clock he kissed his daughter good night, and wentaway in a cab to the station, promising faithfully to be back to takeher to the ball."
"And he disappeared--I suppose?"
"No, he didn't," my companion exclaimed, as, turning to the bird, hesaid, "Mr. Holford jumps to conclusions just a little too quickly,doesn't he, Joseph?" And he slowly relit his pipe, which had again goneout.
"First," he went on, "let me tell you of the arrangement of theProfessor's house. The whole of the ground and first floors are devotedto reception rooms. The remaining two floors and attics are bedrooms.Now, on the first floor, reached by passing through what is known as theRed Room, a small boudoir at the back, and then through a short passage,one comes to a large and spacious studio, an addition made by a formerowner, a well-known artist. The only entrance is through the Red Room.The Professor rented the house on account of this studio, and had itfitted up as a laboratory. Here, secure from intrusion, he frequentlycarried on his experiments, making those remarkable discoveries whichhave rendered him world-famous. The laboratory is shut off from theboudoir by this short passage, there being two doors, one in the boudoiritself and one at the entrance to the Professor's workshop. To boththese doors are patent locks, of which the Professor keeps the keys,carrying them upon his watch-chain. No one else has a key, while thedoor from the conservatory over the porch is walled up. This is inorder that no prying person shall enter in his absence and discover whatexperiments are in progress--a very natural precaution."
"Then they were secret experiments he was making?" I remarked.
"Yes. And now for the mysterious sequence of facts. They are asfollows: Next morning, when the servants opened the house, one of themaids found, lying upon the hall table, a note addressed to Miss Greer.When Ethelwynn opened it, she found it to be from her father, tellingher with regret that he must be absent abroad for several months, butthat she was not to feel uncomfortable, and giving her certaindirections, as well as how to obtain money during his enforced absence."
"Well?"
Joseph, the parrot, set up a loud screeching, trying to attract hismaster's attention.
"Two hours later Antonio discovered upon the stairs leading up to thedrawing-room a curious little gold and enamel charm in the form of achild's old-fashioned wooden doll--a beautifully-made little thing," hewent on; "and half an hour later a maid, while cleaning the boudoiroutside the locked door giving entrance to the laboratory, was surprisedto find a small spot of blood upon the white goat-skin mat. This seemsto have aroused Antonio's apprehensions. A telegram to the Professor atthe North British Hotel in Edinburgh, sent by his daughter, brought,about three o'clock in the afternoon, a reply stating that he was quitewell, and it was not until seven o'clock last evening that Ethelwynncommunicated with me, her father having suggested this in the note shehad received. I called upon her at once, and was shown the note, thelittle golden doll, and the ugly stain upon the mat. By then mycuriosity became aroused. I went out to a telephone at a neighbouringpublic-house, and, unknown to anybody, got on to the reception clerk atthe North British Hotel in Edinburgh. In answer to my inquiry, theyoung lady said that during the day a telegram had arrived addressed toProfessor Greer, and it had been placed upon the board where telegramswere exhibited. Somebody had claimed it, but no one of the name wasstaying in the hotel."
"You have now said that the Professor was your friend," I remarked. "Iunderstood you to say that he was an enemy."
/> "I'll explain that later," said my companion impatiently, drawing hardat his pipe. "Let me continue to describe the situation. Well, onhearing this from Edinburgh, I drove to King's Cross, and, somewhat tomy surprise, found that Professor Greer had left London by the train hehad intended. The sleeping-car attendant who had travelled with him upNorth was just back, and he minutely described his passenger, referringto the fact that he refused to have an early cup of tea, because tea hadbeen forbidden by his doctor."
"A perplexing situation," I said. "How did you account for thebloodstain? Had