in any event leak out.
That saved them trouble and made them grateful. He went away now to have
the bare details of the murder put into shape. When he returned he held
the diamond-set miniature in his hand.

"This has been left at the Lost Property Office," he declared
unblushingly. "It's pretty valuable, so they've put it into our hands to
find the owner. Any of you boys know the lady?"

Some of them examined it with polite interest. They were more concerned
with the murder of a famous man. Lost trinkets were small beer at such
time. Only Jerrold of _The Wire_ made any suggestion.

"Reminds me of that Russian princess woman who's been staying at the
Palatial, only it's too young for her. What's her name?--Petrovska, I
think."

"Thanks," said Foyle; "it doesn't matter much. Ah, here's your stuff.
Good-bye, boys, and don't worry me more than you can help. This thing is
going to keep us pretty busy."

He saw them out of the room and carefully closed the door. Sitting at
his desk he lifted the receiver from the telephone.

"Get the Palatial Hotel," he ordered. "Hello! That the Palatial? Is the
Princess Petrovska there? What? Left last night at ten o'clock? Did she
say where she was going? No, I see. Good-bye."

He scribbled a few words on a slip of paper, and touching the bell gave
it to the man who answered. "Send that to St. Petersburg at once."

It was a communication to the Chief of the Russian police, asking that
inquiries should be made as to the antecedents of the Princess.

For the next three hours men were coming rapidly in and out of the
superintendent's office, receiving instructions and making reports.
Practically the whole of the six hundred men of the C.I.D. were engaged
on the case, for there was no avenue of investigation so slender but
that there might be something at the end of it. Neither Foyle nor his
lieutenants were men to leave anything to chance. Green was seated
opposite to him, discussing the progress they had made.

The superintendent leaned back wearily in his chair. Some one handed him
a slim envelope. He tore it open and slowly studied the cipher in which
the message was written. It read--

"Silinsky, Chief of Police, St. Petersburg. To Foyle,
Superintendent C.I.D., London.

"Woman you mention formerly Lola Rachael, believed
born Paris; formerly on stage, Vienna; married
Prince Petrovska, 1898. Husband died suddenly
1900. Tr