“He was never married, I believe?”

“No.”

“Was he ever, to your knowledge, involved with a woman?”

“No,” I said again.  “I was astounded when I heard Rogers’s story.”

“So you can give us no hint as to this woman’s identity?”

“I only wish I could!” I said, with fervour.

“Thank you, Mr. Lester,” and Grady turned to Simmonds.  “I don’t see that there is anything more we can do here,” he added.  “There’s one thing, though, Mr. Lester, I will have to ask you to do.  That is to keep all the servants here until after the inquest.  If you think there is any doubt of your ability to do that, we can, of course, put them under arrest—­”

“Oh, that isn’t necessary,” I broke in.  “I will be responsible for their appearance at the inquest.”

“I’ll have to postpone it a day,” said Goldberger.  “I want Freylinghuisen to make some tests to-morrow.  Besides, we’ve got to identify d’Aurelle, and these gentlemen seem to have their work cut out for them in finding this woman—­”

Grady looked at Goldberger in a way which indicated that he thought he was talking too much, and the coroner stopped abruptly.  A moment later, all four men left the house.

Dr. Hughes lingered for a last word.

“The undertaker had better be called at once,” he said.  “It won’t do to delay too long.”

I knew what he meant.  Already the face of the dead man was showing certain ugly discolourations.

“I can send him around on my way home,” he added, and I thanked him for assuming this unpleasant duty.

As the door closed behind him, I heard a step on the stair, and turned to see Godfrey calmly descending.

“I came in a few minutes ago,” he explained, in answer to my look, “and have been glancing around upstairs.  Nothing there.  How did our friend Grady get along?”

“Fairly well; but if he guesses anything, his face didn’t show it.”

“His face never shows anything, because there’s nothing to show.  He has cultivated that sibylline look until people think he’s a wonder.  But he’s simply a stupid ignoramus.”

“Oh, come, Godfrey,” I protested, “you’re prejudiced.  He went right to the point.  Do you know Rogers’s story?”

“About the woman?  Certainly.  Rogers told it to me before Grady arrived.”

“Well,” I commented, “you didn’t lose any time.”

“I never do,” he assented blandly.  “And now I’m going to prove to you that Grady is merely a stupid ignoramus.  He has heard all the evidence, but does he know who that woman was?”

“Of course not,” I said, and then I looked at him.  “Do you mean that you do?  Then I’m an ignoramus, too!”

“My dear Lester,” protested Godfrey, “you are not a detective—­that’s not your business; but it is Grady’s.  At least, it is supposed to be, and the safety of this city as a place of residence depends more or less upon the truth of that assumption.  On the strength of it, he has been made deputy police commissioner, in charge of the detective bureau.”