can hear nothing,” he said.
The next five minutes passed more slowly than any of the preceding.
“It is just on the hour,” said Falmouth in a strained voice. “We have — —”
The distant chime of Big Ben boomed once.
“The hour!” he whispered, and both men listened.
“Two,” muttered Falmouth, counting the strokes.
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Five — what’s that?” he muttered quickly.
“I heard nothing — yes, I heard something.” He sprang to the door and bent his head to the level of the keyhole. “What is that? What — —”
Then from the room came a quick, sharp cry of pain, a crash — and silence.
“Quick — this way, men!” shouted Falmouth, and threw his weight against the door.
It did not yield a fraction of an inch.
“Together!”
Three burly constables flung themselves against the panels, and the door smashed open.
Falmouth and the Commissioner ran into the room.
“My God!” cried Falmouth in horror.
Sprawled across the table at which he had been sitting was the figure of the Foreign Secretary.
The paraphernalia that littered his table had been thrown to the floor as in a struggle.
The Commissioner stepped to the fallen man and raised him. One look at the face was sufficient.
“Dead!” he whispered hoarsely. He looked around — save for the police and the dead man the room was empty.
Chapter XI
A Newspaper Cutting
The court was again crowded today in anticipation of the evidence of the Assistant Commissioner of Police and Sir Francis Katling, the famous surgeon. Before the proceedings recommenced the Coroner remarked that he had received a great number of letters from all kinds of people containing theories, some of them peculiarly fantastic, as to the cause of Sir Philip Ramon’s death.
“The police inform me that they are eager to receive suggestions,” said the Coroner, “and will welcome any view however bizarre.”
The Assistant Commissioner of Police was the first witness called, and gave in detail the story of the events that had led up to the finding of the late Secretary’s dead body. He then went on to describe the appearance of the room. Heavy bookcases filled two sides of the room, the third or southwest was pierced with three windows, the fourth was occupied by a case containing maps arranged on the roller principle.
Were the windows fastened? — Yes.
And adequately protected? — Yes; by wooden folding shutters sheathed with steel.
Was there any indication that these had been tampered with? — None whatever.
Did you institute a search of the room? — Yes; a minute search.
By the Foreman of the Jury: Immediately? — Yes: after the body was removed every article of furniture was taken out of the room, the carpets were taken up, and the walls and ceilings stripped.
And nothing was found? — Nothing.
Is there a fireplace in the room? — Yes.
Was there any possibility of any person effecting an entrance by that method? — Absolutely none.
You have seen the newspapers? — Yes; some of them.
You have seen the suggestion put forward that the deceased was slain by the introduction of a deadly gas? — Yes.
Was that possible? — I hardly think so.
By the Foreman: Did you find any means by which such a gas could be introduced? — (The witness hesitated.) None, except an old disused gaspipe that had an opening above the desk. (Sensation.)
Was there any indication of the presence of such a gas?
— Absolutely none.
No smell? — None whatever.
But there are gases which are at once deadly and scentless — carbon dioxide, for example? — Yes; there are.
By the Foreman: Did you test the atmosphere for the presence of such a gas? — No; but I entered the room before it would have had time to dissipate; I should have noticed it.
Was the room disarranged in any way? — Except for the table there was no disarrangement.
Did you find the contents of the table disturbed? — Yes.
Will you describe exactly the appearance of the table?
— One or two heavy articles of table furniture, such as the silver candlesticks, etc., alone remained in their positions. On the floor were a number of papers, the inkstand, a pen, and (here the witness drew a notecase from his pocket and extracted a small black shrivelled object) a smashed flower bowl and a number of roses.
Did you find anything in the dead man’s hand? — Yes, I found this.
The detective held up a withered rosebud, and a thrill of horror ran through the court.
That is a rose? — Yes.
The Coroner consulted the Commissioner’s written report.
Did you notice anything peculiar about the hand? — Yes, where the flower had been there was a round black stain. (Sensation.)
Can you account for that? — No.
By the Foreman: What steps did you take when you discovered this? — I had the flowers carefully collected and as much of the water as was possible absorbed by clean blotting-paper: these were sent to the Home Office for analysis.
Do you know the result of that analysis? — So far as I know, it has revealed nothing.
Did the analysis include leaves from the rose you have in your possession? — Yes.
The Assistant Commissioner then went on to give details of the police arrangements for the day. It was impossible, he emphatically stated, for any person to have entered or left 44 Downing Street without being observed. Immediately after the murder the police on duty were ordered to stand fast. Most of the men, said the witness, were on duty for twenty-six hours at a stretch.
At this stage there was revealed the most sensational feature of the inquiry. It came with dramatic suddenness, and was the result of a question put by the Coroner, who constantly referred to the Commissioner’s signed statement that lay before him.
You know of a man called Thery? — Yes.
He was one of a band calling themselves ‘The Four Just Men’? — I believe so.
A reward was offered for his apprehension? — Yes.
He was suspected of complicity in the plot to murder Sir Philip Ramon? — Yes.
Has he been found? — Yes.
This monosyllabic reply drew a spontaneous cry of surprise from the crowded court.
When was he found? — This morning.
Where? — On Romney Marshes.
Was he dead? — Yes. (Sensation.)
Was there anything peculiar about the body? (The whole court waited for the answer with bated breath.) — Yes; on his