"So long as you hold your peace," Wingate replied drily, "I have no desire to question your motives. Believe me, though, silence, and silence alone, will preserve your lives."
He opened the door and they passed out of the room, Phipps stumbling a little, as though blinded by the unexpected sunshine which streamed through the skylight in the hall. From the shadows beyond, Grant came suddenly into evidence.
"Breakfast is served in the dining room," he announced respectfully.
A flickering anger seemed suddenly to blaze up in Stanley Rees. He cast a furious glance at the man whose fingers had twisted their imprisoning cords.
"Open the door," he snarled, "and let us get out of this damned house!"
Almost before the front door had closed upon Phipps and his nephew. Inspector Shields descended the stairs, crossed the hall, made his way down the passage, and silently entered the room which had been the scene of the tragedy. Wingate was standing in the midst of the debris at the far end of the apartment, directing the operations of a servant whom he had summoned. Shields held up his hand.
"Stop, please," he ordered quietly.
The two men both looked around.
"I was just having the room cleared up," Wingate explained.
"Presently," was the curt reply. "Please send the man away. I want a word with you alone."