Various were the opinions given by those present during the interview. Some thought this, some that, and every one had his own pet solution of the mystery. But the evidence was scanty. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fane stated that they knew nothing of the woman. The husband insisted that the latch-key had never been out of his possession, and the wife asserted that he had been sick in bed miles away at the time the crime was committed. Mulligan described his meeting with the strange young man and the conversation which had ensued; also his discovery of the body, and how he had entered the house. All inquiries on the part of the police failed to prove the identity of the dead. Tracey stated how he had missed his motor-car, and evidence was forthcoming to show that it had been left in the Charing Cross yard. But no one seemed to know who had brought it there. The result of this crop of scanty facts was obvious. The jury brought in a verdict against some person or persons unknown.
"It's the only thing to be said," said Derrick to Fane when the crowd dispersed. "The woman is dead, and she must be buried. That cost will fall on the parish."
"No," replied Fane, who did not seem to be an unkindly man. "The poor creature died in my house, so I will charge myself with her burial. I have consulted Mrs. Fane, and she thinks as I do."
"But you know nothing about her."
"That is true. However, if you make inquiries, you may learn."
The inspector shook his head. "I fear not; I don't know where to look. It is a kind thought of you to bury her, Mr. Fane. Not many men would do that in your place after the trouble you have had."
"It's the least I can do, seeing she was murdered under my roof. But you may hear who she is. Why not advertise?"
"That has been done. Handbills have been placed round describing her looks, and with a picture. Orders have been sent throughout London to the police to keep their eyes open. I doubt if anything will come of the hunt though."
"Surely," said Fane, wrinkling his brows, "a woman can't disappear like this in London?"
"London is the very place where people disappear," retorted Derrick. "Those who live in this big city never know how many people vanish yearly and are never heard of again. In this case we have the body of the woman, but who she was, where she came from, and why she was murdered in your house, will probably never be known."