“Might conceivably be ‘X’ as pronounced,” suggested Anthony quietly, “it only just struck me—that was all.”
Bannister stared. He opened his mouth to answer when a tap at the door destroyed his intention. It was Falcon.
“There’s a gentleman wants to see you,” he declared. “He’s downstairs—shall I show him up?”
“Who is it?” demanded Bannister. Falcon smiled.
“Mr. Alan Warburton.”
CHAPTER XV.
Alan Warburton Leads Trumps
“This is getting more interesting than ever,” exclaimed Bannister. “Lo and behold!—the man I was about to seek—seeks me. I wonder why. Send him up, Falcon.”
“Very good, Inspector.”
Both men were quick to see that Alan Warburton looked very much the worse for wear. He was unshaven, his hair anything but tidy, and his clothes unbrushed—so completely unbrushed and creased that they gave the impression of having been slept in. And very recently at that. His collar by no stretch of imagination could be described as clean and his tie had been tied with glaring and almost exaggerated carelessness. He himself was in no different condition from the clothes in which he stood. His not too-clean hands were shaking, and in his eyes glittered something that looked exceedingly like a dangerous malevolence. Decidedly Mr. Warburton was looking anything but his best. Anthony had seen a suggestion of the same look before in the eyes of the mentally unbalanced and knew that it bordered upon a state of fanaticism. He was quite prepared therefore to hear startling news. He was not disappointed. He has been heard moreover, more than once afterwards to remark, when this astounding case has been the subject of discussion, that this coming of Warburton enabled him to disentangle the threads perhaps more than any other feature of the affair. Coincidental with Warburton’s voluntary entrance into the cast he avers that he began to see a glimmer of light stabbing through the darkness of doubt. He was able to reconcile certain suspicions with actual facts. Alan Warburton came to grips immediately. His self-control seemed to have entirely gone and he appeared mastered and dominated by a kind of raw desperation.
“Chief-Inspector Bannister?” he exclaimed abruptly.