“Not at all,” replied Mr. Andrews, “not at all.  I will go with you myself and see that you have none.  Say, Professor Kennedy,” he broke out, “that was marvellous.  I never dreamed such a thing was possible.  But don’t you think you could have learned something more up there in the office by looking around?”

“I did learn it,” answered Kennedy.  “The lock on the door was intact—­whoever did the job let himself in by a key.  There is no other way to get in.”

Andrews gave a low whistle and glanced involuntarily up at the window with the sign of Morowitch & Co. in gold letters several floors above.

“Don’t look up.  I think that was Kahan looking out at us,” he said, fixing his eyes on his cigar.  “I wonder if he knows more about this than he has told!  He was the ‘company,’ you know, but his interest in the business was only very slight.  By George—­”

“Not too fast, Mr. Andrews,” interrupted Craig.  “We have still to see Mrs. Morowitch and the doctor before we form any theories.”

“A very handsome woman, too,” said Andrews, as we seated ourselves in the car:  “A good deal younger than Morowitch.  Say, Kahan isn’t a bad-looking chap, either, is he?  I hear he was a very frequent visitor at his partner’s house.  Well, which first, Mrs. M. or the doctor?”

“The house,” answered Craig.

Mr. Andrews introduced us to Mrs. Morowitch, who was in very deep mourning, which served, as I could not help noticing, rather to heighten than lessen her beauty.  By contrast it brought out the rich deep colour of her face and the graceful lines of her figure.  She was altogether a very attractive young widow.

She seemed to have a sort of fear of Andrews, whether merely because he represented the insurance company on which so much depended or because there were other reasons for fear, I could not, of course, make out.  Andrews was very courteous and polite, yet I caught myself asking if it was not a professional rather than a personal politeness.  Remembering his stress on the fact that she was alone with her husband when he died, it suddenly flashed across my mind that somewhere I had read of a detective who, as his net was being woven about a victim, always grew more and more ominously polite toward the victim.  I know that Andrews suspected her of a close connection with the case.  As for myself, I don’t know what I suspected as yet.

No objection was offered to our request to examine Mr. Morowitch’s personal effects in the library, and accordingly Craig ransacked the desk and the letter-file.  There was practically nothing to be discovered.

“Had Mr. Morowitch ever received any threats of robbery?” asked Craig, as he stood before the desk.

“Not that I know of,” replied Mrs. Morowitch.  “Of course every jeweller who carries a large stock of diamonds must be careful.  But I don’t think my husband had any special reason to fear robbery.  At least he never said anything about it.  Why do you ask?”