ng the course of his drive he
had been caught in a block and had had to wait for a few seconds--once
at the entrance to Trafalgar Square, again at the junction of Haymarket
and Pall Mall, and, for a third time, opposite the Hyde Park Hotel. At
neither of these halting places had he heard any one enter or leave the
taxi. He had heard no summons from his fare, even though a tube, which
was in perfect working order, was fixed close to the back of his head.
He had known nothing, in fact, until a policeman had stopped him, having
caught a glimpse of the ghastly face inside. There was no evidence which
served to throw a single gleam of light upon the affair. Mr. Vanderpole
had called at the Savoy Hotel upon a travelling American, who had
written to the Embassy asking for some advice as to introducing American
patents into Great Britain and France. He left there to meet his chief,
who was dining down in Kensington, with the intention of returning
at once to join the Duchess of Devenham's theatre party. He was in no
manner of trouble. It was not suggested that any one had any cause for
enmity against him. Yet this attack upon him must have been carefully
planned and carried out by a person of great strength and wonderful
nerve. The newspaper-reading public in London love their thrills, and
they had one here which needed no artificial embellishments from the
pens of those trained in an atmosphere of imagination. The simple truth
was, in itself, horrifying. There was scarcely a man or woman who drove
in a taxicab about the west end of London during the next few days
without a little thrill of emotion.

The murder of Mr. Richard Vanderpole took place on a Thursday night.
On Monday morning a gentleman of middle age, fashionably but quietly
dressed, wearing a flower in his buttonhole, patent boots, and a
silk hat which he had carefully deposited upon the floor, was sitting
closeted with Miss Penelope Morse. It was obvious that that young lady
did not altogether appreciate the honor done to her by a visit from so
distinguished a person as Inspector Jacks!

"I am sorry," he said, "that you should find my visit in the least
offensive, Miss Morse. I have approached you, so far as possible, as an
ordinary visitor, and no one connected with your household can have any
idea as to my identity or the nature of my business. I have done this
out of consideration to your feelings. At the same time I have my duty
to perform and it must be done.