She laid her fingers upon his arm, and they both stood still. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on.

Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness.

"There is someone in my rooms," Anna said.

"Is it your maid?" he asked.

"I have given her two days' holiday," Anna answered. "She has gone down into the country."

"And no one else--has a key?"

"I believe," she said, "that that man must have one. I am safe while I am there, for I have had bolts fitted everywhere, and a pane of gla.s.s in the front door. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. Look! Is that some one coming out?"

The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, pa.s.sed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction. Anna watched her with curious eyes.

"Is it any one you know?" Brendon asked.

"I am not sure," Anna answered. "But, of course, she may have come from one of the other flats."

"Perhaps," he said, "you had better let me have your key, and I will go up and explore."

"We will go together," she answered.

They crossed the street, and entering the front door pa.s.sed up the outside stone steps of the flat. Anna herself opened the hall door.

They stood for a moment in the pa.s.sage and listened. Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion's arm.

"What was that?" she asked sharply.

He had heard nothing. They both listened intently. Again silence.

"I thought that I heard a groan," Anna whispered.

He laughed rea.s.suringly.

"I heard nothing," he declared, "and my ears are good. Come."

He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light.

"There is no--Good G.o.d!" he exclaimed.

He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. She was by his side. She too had seen. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet.

_Chapter XXIV_

A CASE FOR THE POLICE

After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more self-possessed. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unb.u.t.toned his waistcoat. Then she looked up at Brendon.

"You must fetch a doctor," she said. "I do not think that he is quite dead."

"And leave you here alone?" he asked, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. "Come with me."

"I am not afraid," she answered. "Please hurry."

He reeled out of the room. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own self-possession. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. Then she stood up and looked around the room.

There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling.

She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to a.s.sert itself with d.a.m.ning insistence. It was Annabel's. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. The perfume was the only one she ever used. Annabel had been here then. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before. It was she----

Anna's nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly clutching at the table for support. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. Almost at the same moment the door opened and Brendon entered, followed by the doctor.

Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire.

Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her.

"Forgive me, madam," he said stiffly, "but in such a case as this it is better that nothing in the room should be disturbed until the arrival of the police. You have been burning paper, I see."

"Are you a detective or a doctor?" she asked calmly. "Do you need me to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?"

He dropped on his knees by the man's side and made a hurried examination.

"Who tied this scarf here?" he asked, looking up.

"I did," Anna answered. "I hope that it has not done any harm."

"He would have been dead before now without it," the doctor answered shortly. "Get me some brandy and my bag."

It was nearly half an hour before they dared ask him the question.

"Will he live?"

The doctor shook his head.

"It is very doubtful," he said. "You must send for the police at once, you know. You, sir," he added, turning to Brendon, "had better take my card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business."

"Is it necessary to send for the police?" Anna asked.

"Absolutely," the doctor answered, "and the sooner the better. This is a case either of suicide or murder. The police are concerned in it in either event."

"Please go then, Mr. Brendon," Anna said. "You will come back, won't you?"

He nodded cheerfully.

"Of course I will," he answered.

The doctor and Anna were left alone. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. He seemed to avoid meeting Anna's eyes as much as possible.