“The girl would fight to defend herself,” the Inspector remarked slowly, “but she could never strike a man such a blow as your valet died from.”
Once more he stooped and picked up a small clock. It had stopped at eleven-fifteen. He looked at it thoughtfully.
“Quest,” he said, “I’ll have to ask you a question.”
“Why not?” Quest replied, looking quickly up.
“Where were you at eleven-fifteen?”
“On tower Number 10 of the New York Central, scrapping for my life,” Quest answered grimly. “I’ve reason to remember it.”
Something in the Inspector’s steady gaze seemed to inspire the criminologist suddenly with a new idea. He came a step forward, a little frown upon his forehead.
“Say, French,” he exclaimed, “you don’t—you don’t suspect me of this?”
French was unmoved. He looked Quest in the eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said.
CHAPTER VI
ON THE RACK
1.
For the moment a new element had been introduced into the horror of the little tableau. All eyes were fixed upon Quest, who had listened to the Inspector’s dubious words with a supercilious smile upon his lips.
“Perhaps,” he suggested, “you would like to ask me a few questions?”
“Perhaps I may feel it my duty to do so,” the Inspector replied gravely. “In the first place, then, Mr. Quest, will you kindly explain the condition of your clothes?”
Quest looked down at himself quickly. More than ever he realised the significance of his dishevelled appearance.
“I travelled from number ten tower, just outside New York, on top of a freight car,” he said grimly. “It wasn’t a very comfortable ride.”
“Perhaps you will explain what made you take it, then?” the Inspector continued.
Quest shrugged his shoulders.
“Here you are, then,” he replied. “This morning I decided to make an attempt to clear up the mystery of Macdougal’s disappearance. I sent on my secretary, Miss Laura, to make friends with the section boss, and Lenora and I went out by automobile a little later. We instituted a search on a new principle, and before very long we found Macdougal’s body. That’s one up against you, I think, Inspector.”
“Very likely,” the Inspector observed. “Go on, please.”
“I left the two young ladies, at Miss Lenora’s wish, to superintend the removal of the body. I myself had an engagement to deliver over her jewels to Mrs. Rheinholdt here at mid-day. I returned to where my automobile was waiting, started for the city and was attacked by two thugs near the section house. I got away from them, ran to the tower house to try and stop the freight, was followed by the thugs, and jumped out on to the last car from the signal arm.”
There was a dead silence. Quest began quietly to dust his clothes. The Inspector stopped him.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
Quest paused in his task and laid down the brush.
“Any more questions?”
“Where is your automobile?”
“No idea,” Quest replied. “I left it in the road. When I jumped from the freight car, I took a taxicab to the Professor’s and called for him, as arranged.”
“That is perfectly true,” the Professor intervened. “Mr. Quest called for us, as arranged previously, at ten minutes to twelve.”
The inspector nodded.
“I shall have to ask you to excuse me for a moment,” he said, “while I ring up Number 10 signal tower. If Mr. Quest’s story receives corroboration, the matter is at an end. Where shall I find a telephone?”
“In every room in the house,” Quest answered shortly. “There is one outside in the passage.”
The Inspector left the room almost immediately. The Professor crossed to Quest’s side. A kindly smile parted his lips.
“My dear Mr. Quest,” he exclaimed, “our friend the Inspector’s head has been turned a little, beyond doubt, by these horrible happenings! Permit me to assure you, for one, that I look upon his insinuations as absurd.”
“MR. QUEST, YOUR ALIBI HAS BEEN FOUND WITH A BULLET IN HIS BRAIN. I MUST PUT YOU UNDER ARREST.”
WHEN QUEST GOES TO THE SAFE TO PRODUCE THE JEWELS, HE FINDS THEM MISSING.
“The man has gone off his head!” Laura declared angrily.
“It will be all right directly he comes back,” Lenora whispered, laying her hand upon Quest’s arm.
“If only some one would give me my jewels and let me go!” Mrs. Rheinholdt moaned.
The door opened and the Inspector reappeared. He was looking graver than ever.
“Quest,” he announced, “your alibi is useless—in fact a little worse than useless. The operator at Number 10 has been found murdered at the back of his tower!”
Quest started.
“I ought not to have left him to those thugs,” he murmured regretfully.
“There is no automobile of yours in the vicinity,” the Inspector continued, “nor any news of it. I think it will be as well now, Quest, for this matter to take its obvious course. Will you, first of all, hand over her jewels to Mrs. Rheinholdt?”
Quest drew the keys of the safe from his pocket, crossed the room and swung open the safe door. For a moment afterwards he stood transfixed. His arm, half outstretched, remained motionless. Then he turned slowly around.
“The jewels have been stolen,” he announced with unnatural calm.
Mrs. Rheinholdt pushed her way forward, wringing her hands.
“Stolen again?” she said. “Mr. Quest! Inspector!”
“They were there,” Quest declared, “when I left the house this morning. It seems probable,” he added, “that the same person who is responsible for this double tragedy has also taken the jewels.”
The Inspector laid his hand heavily upon Quest’s shoulder.
“It does seem as though that might be so,” he assented grimly. “You will kindly consider yourself under arrest, Quest. Ladies and gentlemen, will you clear the room now, if you please? The ambulance I telephoned for is outside.”
The Professor, who had been looking on as though dazed, suddenly intervened.
“Mr. French,” he said earnestly, “I am convinced that you are making a great mistake. In arresting and taking away Mr. Quest, you are removing from us the one man who is likely to be able to clear up this mystery.”
The Inspector pushed him gently on one side.
“You will excuse me, Professor,” he said, “but