now shown by that scrap of paper. "The Wasp can no longer sting!" Why? Because his victim was dead.
But that distorted countenance puzzled me greatly.
Again I examined the wound, and saw at once that it was a mortal one. The muzzle of the pistol had been held close against the shirt front, the hole in which was brown and blackened.
By the remains of food in the dining-room, he had had two companions there. Who were they? Surely they would come forward and make some statement.
"It's a complete mystery, Dr. d'Escombe, isn't it?" exclaimed the inspector, turning to me.
It certainly was, and it had greatly aroused my curiosity. But, determined to investigate matters myself, I affected indifference and said:
"Merely a case of suicide during temporary insanity. I'll make the post-mortem this afternoon, if you'll have the body removed to the mortuary."
"Very well, sir," was the man's reply.
"But you didn't go up into the attics, doctor, did you?"
I replied in the negative.
