"About Dr. Renshaw."
"Do you still connect him with the crime?"
"I connect him with Dr. Binjoy, and I connect Dr. Binjoy with his negro servant; and further I connect a black man wearing a green coat with brass buttons with the murder."
"Then you suspect that the servant of Dr. Binjoy killed Fellenger, and that Binjoy in the disguise of Renshaw was at the Red Star to assure himself that his instructions had been carried out."
"That is exactly what I don't mean."
"Then what are you driving at?"
"Ask me the same question in five weeks, and I'll tell you."
"Will it take you all that time to find out the truth?"
Fanks laughed at the implied sneer. "I am no miracle-monger, my dear sir," he said; "I am groping in the dark; and a mighty hard task it is. I do not know in which direction to move at the present moment. If only some thing would turn up likely to point out a path. Renshaw, Mrs. Boazoph, and Robert are all sign-posts, but which to go by, I really cannot say. Five weeks, Garth, and then perhaps failure."
All this time they were still standing at the door at the foot of the stairs. Now Fanks made a movement, but before he could step on to the pavement he was aware that Maxwell was coming down the stairs quickly. In another moment he was at the elbow of his superior officer, holding out a small packet wrapped up in brown paper. Fanks took it gingerly, and examined it with a thoughtful look on his face.