Despite his belief in the evidence of Mrs. Jerusalem, which was obviously dictated by a malignant spirit, he caught himself wondering if she was really right, and if, after all, Sir Louis was guilty. But the moment afterwards he rejected this idea, as it was incredible that Sir Louis would commit a crime and then offer a reward for the detection of the assassin. Still Fanks admitted to himself that if Sir Louis was not frank, he would find it difficult to come to a decision touching his innocence or guilt.
On sending in his card at Mere Hall, the detective was admitted into the study of Sir Louis Fellenger. Here he found not the baronet but his old acquaintance Dr. Renshaw, who advanced boldly and introduced himself as Dr. Binjoy. In place of wearing a thick brown beard he was clean-shaven, and his face looked young, fresh-coloured, and smooth. For the rest he was as tall and burly as ever, as unctuous in his speech; and to complete the resemblance between himself and the doctor of Tooley's Alley, there lurked an unmistakable look of anxiety in his grey eyes. It was impossible to think how he hoped to deceive so clever a man as Fanks by so slight a change in his personal appearance; but he evidently thought Fanks knew nothing of the truth, for he came forward with a bland smile, prepared to carry on the comedy.
"My dear sir," said Binjoy, with magnificent pompousness, "your card was brought to Sir Louis, but he has been busy in his laboratory, and is rather untidy in consequence, he deputed me to receive you. Pray be seated."
Fanks smiled slightly and sat down, while Dr. Binjoy, rendered uneasy by the silence, carried on a difficult conversation.
"I presume, Mr. Fanks, that you have come to report your doings to Sir Louis touching this unfortunate death of my friend's predecessor in the title. May I ask if you have any clue to the assassin?"
"Oh, yes," said Fanks, quietly; "you will be pleased to hear, Dr. Binjoy, that I have every hope of arresting the right man."
Binjoy turned grey and looked anything but delighted. Indeed an unprejudiced observer would have said that he looked thoroughly frightened. But he controlled himself so far as to falter out a question as to the name of the guilty man. Fanks mentioned the name of Renshaw, and thereby reduced his listener to a state of abject terror.
"Renshaw is innocent, sir," said the doctor, tremulously, "I would he were here to defend himself; but he is in India at present, at Bombay. I received a letter from him, dated from Aden."
"How strange," said Fanks, innocently; "Dr. Turnor got a letter from him also."
Binjoy saw that he had over-reached himself, and bit his lip. "We need discuss Renshaw no longer," he said, coolly. "Let us talk of other matters till Sir Louis enters."