“Gatton!” I cried—­“Miss Merlin has received, by post, a small statuette of Bast!”

“What!”

“From her brief description I am almost tempted to believe that it is the one which was stolen from here!  She is dreadfully frightened, naturally.”

The Inspector stood up.

“We must see it,” he said rapidly, “at once; and we must see the wrapping it came in and the postmark.  It is maddening,” he burst out angrily, “to think that Dr. Damar Greefe may be somewhere within less than half a mile of us as we sit here now, that we could ring him up if we knew his number; but that even with all the resources of the Criminal Investigation Department at work we may yet be unable to find him!  Even an outside suburb like this is a very big place to search and the job is something like looking for a needle in a haystack!”

My own frame of mind was one of horrible doubt and indecision.  I knew not what to do for the best; and Gatton had begun to pace up and down like a caged wild beast.  Therefore: 

“Fill your pipe,” I said wearily.  “A lot may depend upon our next move.  To make a false one would perhaps be fatal.”

Gatton stared at me almost savagely, then threw himself back into the armchair from which he had arisen, and was just reaching out for the tobacco-jar which I had pushed before him, when a bell rang.  I heard Coates opening the front door, and wondering whom this late visitor could be, I stared questioningly at the Inspector.

Came a tap upon the door.

“Come in,” I cried.

Coates entered, and standing stiffly in the doorway: 

“Dr. Damar Greefe!” he announced.

Unmoved, he stood aside; and whilst Gatton and I slowly rose from our chairs in a state of utter stupefaction, the Eurasian doctor entered, and stood, a tall, gaunt figure, towering over the burly form of Coates in the doorway!

His hawk eyes blazed feverishly and his face was drawn and haggard, whilst I observed with a sort of horrified wonder that he seemed to be almost too weak to stand.  For, as Gatton and I came finally to our feet, he clutched at the edge of a bookcase, but recovered himself, bowed in that stately fashion which immediately translated me in spirit to the strange library in the Bell House, and: 

“Gentlemen,” he said, and his harsh voice rose scarcely above a whisper—­“pray resume your seats.  I shall not detain you long.”

CHAPTER XXV

STATEMENT OF DAMAR GREEFE, M.D.

The speaker reeled and seemed about to fall.  Whereupon Gatton sprang forward and placed an armchair, which he himself had occupied, for Dr. Damar Greefe.  The latter inclined his head in acknowledgment and sank down weakly, clutching at both arms of the chair.

For my own part, I had not yet recovered power of speech; but: 

“Dr. Damar Greefe,” said the Inspector, closely watching the man who sat there collapsed in the chair, “I arrest you on a charge of murder.  I have to warn you that anything you now say will be used in evidence against you.”