"Well"--Drench scratched his head thoughtfully--"there is something in that, Mr. Vernon. But The Spider is so clever that you may be sure he has made himself safe. You think he heads a gang?"
"I am certain, and the woman who played such a clever comedy to inveigle me into the kitchen is one of the gang."
"Perhaps The Spider himself, in disguise?"
"You may be right, as, of course, since I was captured about nine o'clock, there was plenty of time for him to change and get to Hampstead by eleven."
"Moreover, he was a quarter of an hour late," suggested Drench, "but it puzzles me, sir, to think how your trap business came to his ears."
Vernon looked regretfully at the dead man in the chair. "Perhaps Mr. Dimsdale may have talked," he remarked. "I said nothing. But we shall never know now----"
"Until we lay hands on The Spider and force him to confess," ended Drench, nodding. "By the way, I suppose some reward will be offered for his apprehension by Miss Dimsdale? I understand she is rich."
"It's very probable, as she inherits her father's money--about ten thousand a year, it must be."
The Inspector whistled. "That's a tidy fortune," he said meditatively. "I expect the reward will be a large one."
"I expect so also," rejoined Vernon, understanding clearly what was meant, "and if we learn the truth about this crime and capture The Spider you can have the reward all to yourself."