"Staying there?"
"Yes! I--I--not practise in London. I do not practise at all, in fact. I travel--I travel a great deal. In two weeks I go to India."
"You must go first to the inquest," responded Fanks dryly. "But if you do not practise in London, how comes it that Mrs. Boazoph sent for you?"
"She did not send for me," explained the doctor, "but for my friend, Dr. Turnor; he is absent on a holiday, and I am acting as his locum tenens for a short period."
"Thank you, Doctor; that is a thoroughly satisfactory explanation; quite as satisfactory as your theory of the death. Good evening. I should recommend a glass of brandy; you look as though you needed it."
"Weak heart!" muttered Renshaw in explanation, and took his departure with evident relief. But before he left the hotel, he acted on the detective's suggestion. Mrs. Boazoph gave him the brandy with her own hands. The action afforded her an opportunity of exchanging a few words with him. Fanks thwarted her intent by also entering the bar, and asking for refreshment; whereupon, the doctor finished his liquor and departed.
Left alone with Fanks, the landlady drew a breath of relief, and addressed herself to the detective.
"Do you wish to know anything else, sir," she said coldly. "If not, with your permission, I shall retire to bed."
"I have learned all I wish to know at present, thank you, Mrs. Boazoph. Go to bed by all means. I am sure that you need rest after your anxiety."
The landlady, looking worn out and haggard, retired, and Fanks went to the door to wait for Crate's return. In the meantime he made notes and formed theories; these will be revealed hereafter, but in the meantime the case was in too crude a state for him to come to the smallest conclusion. However, he had already decided on the next step. In the chamber of death he had made an important discovery which enabled him to move in the matter.