The detective gave a start and colored to the roots of his hair.  No doubt about it, Gard was a great man, if he could meet such a situation in such a manner and get away with it.

“Well, sir, the papers have it straight enough this time, as it happens.  There’s nothing different.”

“What was the weapon?”

“A stiletto paper cutter, that he always had on his table.  It had a top like a fencing foil; in fact, that’s what it was in miniature, except that it was edged.  It was that top, flattened close down, that stopped any flow of blood, so that everyone thought at first it was the blow on the temple that killed him.  There’s this about it, though:  I’m told they say he was stunned first and stabbed afterward.  That doesn’t look like the work of a common thief, does it?”

His hearer could not control a shudder.  “Why not?” he parried.  “He may have known the knockout was only temporary, and he was afraid he’d come to; or the man might have been known to Mahr, and he’d recognized him.”

Brencherly shook his head incredulously.

“And the woman?  What description did the servants give?” There was a perceptible pause before he asked the question.

“The woman?  The description is pretty vague—­dressed in black, a heavy veil, black gloves; nothing extraordinary.  The servant did say he thought her hair was gray, or it might have been light.  He caught a glimpse of the back of her head when he showed her into the room.  She sent in a note first; just a plain envelope; it wasn’t directed.”

“Did they find any letter or enclosure that might explain why she was admitted?”

“No, sir, nothing.”

The two men eyed each other in silence.  Each felt the other’s reticence.

“And what do you advise now?” Gard inquired.

Brencherly’s gaze shifted to the bronze inkwells.

“If I knew just how this event affected you, sir, I might be able to advise.”

It was his employer’s turn to look away.

“I know absolutely nothing about the cause of Mahr’s death.  I do know that there was no love lost between us; also that I was the last person known to have been with him.  Isn’t that enough to show you how I am affected?”

“And the motive of your quarrel?” The detective felt his heart thump and wondered at his own daring.

“We were rival competitors for the Heim Vandyke—­he got it away from me.”

“Does that answer my question, sir?” Again Brencherly gasped at his own temerity.

“Young man,” bellowed Gard, half rising from his chair, “what are you trying to infer?”

Brencherly stood up.  “Please, Mr. Gard, be frank with me.  I want to help you; I want to see you through.  It can be done—­I’m sure of it.  No one knows about your trouble with Mahr.  What he wanted with the combination of that safe I can’t guess, but it was for no good; and you told me yourself that he had secured it.  But everything may work out all right if you let me help you.  I’m used to this cross-examination business, and I can coach you so they won’t get a thing.  I don’t pretend to be in a class with you, sir; don’t think I’m so conceited.  I’m just specialized, that’s all.  I want to help, and I can if you’ll let me.”