hing
which looked like a collection of odds and ends of jewellery, bits of
faded ribbon, and time-stained letters, and turn the key upon them,
before the police official was at the door.

"Hullo!" said Cleek in a tone of surprise and deep interest as the
superintendent came fairly lurching into the room. "What's in the wind,
Mr. Narkom? You look fairly bowled. Whisky and soda there--at your
elbow--help yourself. I presume it is a case--nothing else would bring
you here at this time and in such a state. What kind is it? And for
whom? Some friend of yours or for the Yard?"

"For both, I'm afraid," replied Narkom, pouring out a stiff peg of
whisky and nervously gulping it down between words. "God knows I hope it
may be only for the Yard, but considering what I know----Get your hat
and coat. Come with me at once, Cleek. It's a murder--a mystery after
your own heart. Lennard's below with the limousine. Come quickly, do,
there's a dear chap. I'll tell you all about it on the way. The thing's
only just been done--within the hour--out Wimbledon way."

"I might have guessed that, Mr. Narkom, considering that you were to
mingle duty with pleasure and spend the evening at Wimbledon with your
old friend, Sir Philip Clavering," replied Cleek, rising at once.
"Certainly I will go with you. Did you ever know the time when I
wouldn't do all that I could to help the best friend I ever
had--yourself? And if it is, as you hint, likely to be in the interest
of the friend of _my_ friend----"

"I'm not so sure of that, Cleek. God knows I hope it's a mistaken idea
of mine; but when you have heard, when you have seen, how abominably
things point to that dear boy of Clavering's and to the girl that dead
fellow was conspiring with her father to take away from him----"

"Oho!" interjected Cleek, with a strong rising inflection. "So there is
that element in the case, eh?--love and a woman in distress! Give me a
minute to throw a few things together and I am with you, my friend."

"Thanks, old chap, I knew I could rely upon you! But don't stop to
bother about a disguise, Cleek, it's too dark for anybody to see that it
isn't 'the Captain' that's going out; and besides, there's everything of
that sort in the limousine, you know. The street is as dark as a pocket,
and there's nobody likely to be on the watch at this hour."

The curious one-sided smile so characteristic of the man looped up the
corner of Cleek's mouth; his features seemed to wri