There entered into the reception hall a man dressed in a grey lounge suit of excellent cut and quality. On observing Miss Jade, he removed his hat and advanced. His face was clean-shaven, and his complexion exceptionally pale. In that white face two dark eyes were emphasised. He uttered the formal “Good morning” with a slight foreign accent. Then he said:

“I’ve called to see my friend, Mr. Grumman.”

Miss Jade now had more command of herself.

“Oh, yes! Mr. Grumman is slightly indisposed this morning. In fact, we think he has met with an accident. We are just-Ah!”

Into the reception hall stepped Constable Rice. He was not a large man, but he looked efficient. He was wearing ordinary clothes. The visitor for Mr. Grumman, observed Miss Jade looking beyond him, turned about to face the constable, and Rice looked his astonishment.

“Why!” he said. “I do believe it’s our old friend, Marcus! Marcus without his little black moustache, too! No, you don’t, Marcus!”

Rice flashed into a crouch and then leapt forward. He was actually off the floor when they heard a distinct “florp” sound. Miss Jade could see the weapon in the visitor’s right hand, a weapon having a long and ugly nozzle-a silencer. The velocity of the policeman’s body carried it to the place where the visitor had been standing, but he leapt aside, and Rice fell to the floor, an inert and sprawling figure.

He lay quite still. The visitor turned round to face Bisker and Miss Jade. His eyes were twin coals of flame, a dull scarlet behind black. Miss Jade opened her mouth to scream but the sound that issued from it was merely a long-caught sob. Bisker stood with his hands doubled into his hips, his eyes little points of livid grey. The visitor backed slowly to the mainentrance, stood there for what seemed a long time, then vanished beyond the door he slammed shut. Neither Bisker nor Miss Jade made the smallest movement. They heard the sound of a car being driven swiftly down the drive to the highway. Then Miss Jade slumped to the carpeted floor.