"Search it by all means if you wish, Badger," I replied with the utmost sangfroid, "but it only contains my zinc ointment, ammoniated quinine—and—er—a little bundle of odds and ends. As for the noise—they have the chimney-sweep in next door."
"I shouldn't think of doubting your word, sir," said the Inspector. Then very coolly he locked the cupboard door without opening it and slipped the key into his pocket. "A mere formality, but just as well to be on the safe side," he observed.
When I returned to the room—I accompanied Badger to the outer door myself—I stood for a moment considering the new complication.
"Deuced awkward!" I muttered, walking towards the book-case.
"That will be all right, sir," interposed the soft voice of Perkins behind me. "The key of my wardrobe fits all the locks in your sitting-room—except that of the tantalus, I should say," and he held out the indicated object for me to take. Under what circumstances my exemplary man had made the discovery I did not stop to investigate, but I have no doubt that he had conscientiously listened to every word of one if not of both conversations that morning.
I did not lose a moment in unlocking the door of the book-case and throwing it widely open to release my fair visitor.
But the many-clawed hand of improbability had by no means relaxed its grip on my shoulder.
The cupboard was empty!
In speechless bewilderment my gaze went round the room from one familiar object to another in a vain attempt to solve the mystery. There was only one possible place of concealment there. I snatched away the coverlet that hid the stark outline on the dissecting table.
