Stumbling out of the cab, Vernon staggered towards the man. "I have come to Mr. Dimsdale's ball," he said hurriedly.
"It's over, sir," said the policeman, touching his helmet.
"Early in the morning, sir, you mean. But the fact is, there's trouble."
"Trouble!" Again a cold chill struck Vernon.
The news was as horrible as it was unexpected. Vernon had anticipated blackmail, he had even believed that in the absence of a third person The Spider might show fight. But he had never dreamed that murder would take place, as such a crime was entirely contrary to The Spider's methods. With a gasp he pulled himself together.
"Have they caught the man?" he demanded anxiously.
"What man?" questioned the constable suspiciously.
"No, sir; it's not known who killed Mr. Dimsdale. He was found strangled in his library, some time after eleven o'clock. The alarm was given, the police were called in, and the ball came to an end. Now, sir," added the man in a friendly way, "I haven't any right to tell you more, and as what I have told you will be in the papers to-morrow, no harm's done. You go home now, sir, and you'll learn all about your friend when the inquest takes place."
Vernon thought for a second. "Is your Inspector in the house?"
"I must see him, and at once. I believe I know who killed Mr. Dimsdale."
"Oh, you do, do you?" said the policeman with a subtle change of manner. "Then you come along with me."
"Wait till I pay my cabman," muttered Vernon, and, the policeman making no objection to this, he gave the chauffeur the promised fare. When the vehicle had disappeared down the road, diminishing blackly in the moonlight, he returned, to find that the constable was holding open the gate.
"What name am I to give?" asked the man gruffly, for it was evident that he regarded Vernon with suspicion owing to what he had admitted.
"My name doesn't matter; the Inspector does not know me," said Vernon impatiently. "Hurry up, man! hurry up! Every moment is of value."
Impressed by his imperious manner, the policeman knocked at the closed front door, which was immediately thrown open by a second constable on guard in the hall. By this individual Vernon was introduced into the Jacobean dining-room, after a few hurried words of explanation. Inspector Drench--the constable had informed Vernon of the name--was seated at the table taking notes, and Miss Hest, looking pale and anxious, stood at his elbow. She was the first to speak.