Fuller nodded.

“I think that’s very good,” said he.

“It would have been a very easy thing for the Standard’s man to have made a few inquiries as to whether Spatola used a violin case or no.  If he had done so, I am inclined to think that the answers would have been in the affirmative.  But there is another and more vital point upon which I would base an objection to the reporter’s theory.  He says that, goaded into a rage, Spatola struck his tormentor down.  But he forgets that If the murderer did not visit Hume’s with the intention of doing murder, it was rather a freakish thing for him to provide himself with a bayonet.  However, that is a point that I discussed with Mr. Stillman yesterday; at first he was inclined to assume a somewhat similar position.”

“But the broken and cut portraits?” questioned Fuller.

Ashton-Kirk smiled a little.

“Probably I shall be able to properly account for them when I return from a little trip that I am about to take to-day,” said he.  “That is,” as a sort of afterthought, “if some things turn out as I think they will.”

Fuller unfolded the newspaper that he had brought in.

“It is a late edition of the Star,” he said.  “The paper seems to have scored a beat, for it has some developments that may put a different face upon everything.”

Ashton-Kirk took the sheet, and as he glanced at the flaring headlines, he whistled softly.  The lines read: 

“MYSTERIOUS WOMAN IN A MOTOR CAR!

“She Visits 478 Christie Place on the Night of Murder!

“DID A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN’S HAND DEAL THE DEADLY BLOW?

“A New Element Added to the Hume Sensation!”

“The Star man seems to have struck up an acquaintance with Sams,” said Ashton-Kirk, with interest.  He thought for a moment, and then added to Fuller: 

“Tell Stumph when Miss Edyth Vale arrives to show her here at once.”

“Oh, you have been expecting her then?”

“No:  I have not.  But I am now.”

After Fuller left the room, the investigator turned eagerly to the Star’s leaded narrative.  This laid great stress upon the evident wealth and dazzling beauty of the mysterious midnight visitor in Christie Place; and second only to her did they feature the well-dressed stranger whom Berg had seen enter at Hume’s door before he had closed his own place for the night.  The revolver shot that had followed the woman’s entrance and the parrot-like scream which had, in turn, followed that, lost nothing in the telling.

“Who was the woman?  That is the mystery,” the newspaper said in conclusion.  “The hack driver caught but a glimpse of her, and in the excitement of the moment failed to take the number of the car.  But that the latter was a Maillard he is positive.  There are several headquarter’s men following up the clew as this goes to press; and startling developments are expected at any moment.