“Let ’em in, sure!” assented Thong.  “We got to talk to all of ’em!  Let ’em in!”

Darcy did so, Mulligan helping him keep back the crowd of curious ones.

“Here comes Miss Brill,” said one of the men clerks to Darcy.  “What’s the matter?  Is Mrs. Darcy—?”

“Dead!  Killed, I’m afraid!  The store won’t open to-day, but the police want to see every one.  Oh, Miss Brill, come in!” and he held out his hand to the one young woman clerk, who drew back in horrified fright as she saw the silent figure on the floor.

“Oh—­Oh!” she gasped, and then she went into hysterics, adding to the excitement and giving Mulligan a bad five minutes while he fought to keep the crowd from surging in.

But when Miss Brill had been carried to a rear room and quieted, and when the shades had been drawn to keep the curious ones from peering in, the questioning of Darcy was resumed.

“Did you come directly down to the store from your room?” asked Thong.

“Yes.  As soon as I awakened.”

“Where is your room?”

“In the rear, on the second floor—­the one next above.  Mrs. Darcy has her rooms in front.  Then come those of her maid, Jane Metson.  Sallie Page sleeps on the top floor where the janitor’s family lives, and he, of course, sleeps up there also.”

“I see,” murmured Carroll.  “Then you came downstairs and found Mrs. Darcy lying here—­dead?”

“I wasn’t sure she was dead—­”

“Oh, she was dead all right,” broke in Thong.  “No question about that.  Did you hear anything?”

“Only the watch ticking in her hand.  First I thought it was her heart beating.”

“No, I mean did you hear anything in the night?” went on the detective.  “Any queer noise?  It’s mighty funny if there was murder done and no robbery.  But of course she might have heard a noise if you didn’t, and she might have come down to find out what it was about.  She might have caught a burglar at work, and he may have killed her to get away.  But if it was a burglar it’s funny you didn’t hear any noise—­like a fall, or something.  How about that, Mr. Darcy?”

“Well, no.  I didn’t exactly hear anything.  I went to bed about half past ten, after working at my table down here awhile.”

“Was Mrs. Darcy in bed then?” Thong asked.

“I couldn’t say.  She had gone to her apartment, but I don’t have to pass near that to get to my room.  I came straight up and went to bed.”

“At ten o’clock, you say?”

“A little after.  It may have been a quarter to eleven.”

“And you didn’t hear anything all night?” Carroll shot this question at Darcy suddenly.

“No—­no—­not exactly, I did hear something—­it wasn’t exactly a noise—­and yet it was a noise.”

“What kind of talk is that?” demanded Thong roughly.  “Either it was a noise or it wasn’t!  Now which was it?”