"You did right," approved Derrick, swinging open the gate. "Wait, we must look at the name. Your lantern, Mulligan."
The light illuminated the black letters on the gate, but before the inspector could pronounce the name, Tracey did it for him. "Ajax Villa--Ajax Villa," said he, stopping; "sakes, it's Fane's house. Don't tell me it's Mrs. Fane--such a fine woman. But it can't be."
"Why not?" said Derrick, looking at him suspiciously.
"Because the whole family are at the seaside--all except Miss Mason."
"Where is she, and who is she?"
"Miss Mason is the sister of Mrs. Fane, and she's stopping with the friends I was seeing when my car was stolen."
This was a strange discovery, and Derrick looked puzzled. Tracey spoke in all good faith, and seemed quite willing to enter the house. All the same it was queer he should know so much about the matter. As the constable opened the door Derrick asked a question. "You heard Mulligan describe the man who came out of this house," he said; "can you tell me who he is?"
"No," confessed Tracey. "I know very little of Mr. Fane and his family. I've never been in this house. But Miss Mason is the bosom friend of the girl I'm going to engineer into the position of Mrs. Tracey. She's Gerty Baldwin at present, and lives at No. 20 Meadow Lane along with her mother and the kids. Now, is there anything else you want, to know, Mr. Inspector?"
"Not at present. But later on." Derrick nodded and walked into the house, followed by the two men.
"Oh, anything you like," called out Tracey, not at all damped by the fact of death being in the house, "anything for an advertisement. I guess I'll sell that car at a big figure. Tussaud's will buy it if the murderer's skipped in it."