"There is no doubt in my mind that Barraclough is the principal, and
the Indian only an accomplice," she replied. "But we're not going to
let the Indian escape."
"We have done so."
"No. Scotland Yard has him in hand."
"Scotland Yard?"
"Yes; directly the doctor came, which was almost immediately after
he received my note, I went out and sent a message. Hark! there's a
knock at the door."
Dorcas ran downstairs bidding me follow her. She opened the
front door, and a handsome foreign-looking dark man, of about
eight-and-thirty, stepped into the hall, and politely raised his hat.
"Ah, Mr. Stromberg, I am glad," exclaimed Dorcas, shaking hands
heartily with the new arrival. "I was wondering who would be on
duty. Allow me to introduce my friend Mr. Saxon. Mr. Saxon, this is
Inspector Stromberg, of the Criminal Investigation Department."
The inspector bowed and smiled.
"I am always delighted to work with the famous Dorcas Dene," he said
to me. "My only regret is that she is not one of us." Then turning
to Dorcas, he said, "And now what is the mystery we are to have the
pleasure of unravelling together this time?"
"The mystery is, I hope, already unravelled," replied Dorcas
demurely, "but I must not go any farther with it. It is now a matter
for the police."
"And the particulars?"
Clearly and concisely Dorcas gave the famous detective officer the
details of the great Barraclough mystery.
When she had finished the Inspector rose and grasped Dorcas warmly
by the hand.
"My dear Mrs. Dene," he said, "you have done wonders. Of course, I
must take charge of the case now as it is practically an attempt to
murder, but I shall do nothing without your approval. The woman is
in charge of the doctor still, I presume?"
"Yes. He will call me as soon as she is able to converse coherently."
"And Mr. Judkins Barraclough--what is your idea of the time to
make the arrest?"
"To-night."
"To-night?--but why give him so much law as that?"
"I am very much interested in some ragged feminine garments concealed
in a cupboard here. I want to find out what object Barraclough can
have in keeping them there." She added something in a whisper that I
was evidently not intended to hear. The great man looked grave.
"It is a desperate thing to do," he said.
"I am afraid that unless we find the Indian and get him to turn
Queen's Evidence, the mere fact of Barraclough having a latchkey
will not bring the attempted murder home to him. I like to clear up
my cases thoroughly, and I confess that these pauper rags completely
baffle me. By the bye, you acted on my information with regard to
the Indian?"
"Yes," said the Inspector. "What was your idea in asking me to have
enquiries made at the post-offices you named?"
"They are the only ones within reasonable distance which are opened
before eight in the morning. My idea was that the man would go to a
telegraph office and send a warning wire to Barraclough. You sent a
messenger to the receiving offices near Berkeley Square?"
"Yes; no telegram will be delivered to Barraclough without our
knowledge of its contents."
"That's all right," said Dorcas, "and of course, by some
unaccountable accident, that telegram won't reach Mr. Barraclough."
Inspector Stromberg shrugged his shoulders.
"The Post Office is a sacred institution in this country," he said.
"The police do not tamper with letters and telegrams."
"No," said Dorcas, sweetly, "but sometimes accidents happen--a
careless clerk, for instance, puts a wrong address on the envelope
and that causes somebody else to open the telegram _after_ the boy
has gone."
The Inspector gazed at Dorcas admiringly.