"What is your theory of this affair?" he said, rather by way of making conversation than from any hope of being enlightened.
"It is simple enough," said Clarke, his solemn glance resting for a moment on the box of cigars. Winter nodded in the same direction. His cigars were sometimes burnt offerings as well as rewards.
"Light up," he said, "and tell me what you think."
"Mademoiselle de Bercy was killed by either a disappointed lover or a discarded husband. All these foreign actresses marry early, but grow tired of matrimony within a year. If, then, there is no chance of upsetting Mr. Osborne's alibi, we must get the Paris police to look into Miss de Bercy's history. Her husband will probably turn out to be some third-rate actor or broken-down manager. Let us find _him_, and see if _he_ is as sure of his whereabouts last evening as Mr. Rupert Osborne professes to be."
"You seem to harp on Osborne's connection with the affair?"
"And why not, sir? A man like him, with all his money, ought to know better than to go gadding about with actresses."
"But he is interested in the theater--he is quite an authority on French comedy."
"He can tackle French tragedy now--he is up to the neck in this one."
"You still cling to the shrieking housemaid--to her ravings, I mean?"
"Perhaps I should have mentioned it sooner, sir, but I have come across a taxicab driver who picked up a gentleman uncommonly like Mr. Osborne at 7.20 p.m. on Tuesday, and drove him from the corner of Berkeley Street to Knightsbridge, waited there nearly fifteen minutes, and brought him back again to Berkeley Street."
The Chief Inspector came as near being startled as is permissible in Scotland Yard.
"That is a very serious statement," he said quietly, wheeling round in his chair and scrutinizing his subordinate's lean face with eyes more wide-open than ever, if that were possible. "It is tantamount to saying that some person resembling Mr. Osborne hired a cab outside the Ritz Hotel, was taken to Feldisham Mansions at the very hour Miss de Bercy was murdered, and returned to the Ritz in the same vehicle."
"Exactly so," and Clarke pursed his thin lips meaningly.
"So, then, you _have_ discovered something?"
Mr. Winter's tone had suddenly become dryly official, and the other man, fearing a reprimand, added: