when she noticed a cupboard beneath the shelves. It was unlocked and she
opened it and found, as she had expected, that it was full of books,
amongst which was the missing documentation she sought.

With a view to future contingencies, she examined the contents of the
cupboard and was arrested by a thin volume which bore no inscription or
title on its blank cover. She opened it, and on the title page read:
"The Millinborn Murder." The author's name was not given and the
contents were made up of very careful analysis of evidence given by the
various witnesses at the inquest, and plans and diagrams with little red
crosses to show where every actor in that tragedy had been.

She read the first page idly and turned it. She was half-way down the
second page when she uttered a little exclamation, for a familiar name
was there, the name of Dr. van Heerden.

Fascinated, she read the story to the end, half-expecting that the name
of Mr. Beale would occur.

There were many names all unknown to her and one that occurred with the
greatest frequency was that of James Kitson. Mr. Beale did not appear to
have played any part. She read for an hour, sitting on the floor by the
cupboard. She reached the last page, closed the book and slipped it back
in the cupboard. She wondered why Beale had preserved this record and
whether his antagonism to the doctor was founded on that case. At first
she thought she identified him with the mysterious man who had appeared
in the plantation before the murder, but a glance back at the
description of the stranger dispelled that idea. For all the reputation
he had, Mr. Beale did not have "an inflamed, swollen countenance,
colourless bloodshot eyes," nor was he bald.

She was annoyed with herself that she had allowed her work to be
interrupted, and in penance decided to remain on until six instead of
five o'clock as she had intended. Besides, she half expected that Mr.
Beale would return, and was surprised to discover that she was
disappointed that he had not.

At six o'clock she dismissed the boy, closed and locked the office, and
made her way downstairs into the crowded street.

To her surprise she heard her name spoken, and turned to face Dr. van
Heerden.

"I have been waiting for you for nearly an hour," he said with
good-humoured reproach.

"And your patients are probably dying like flies," she countered.

It was in her mind to make some excuse and go home alone, but curiosity
got the be