"It is really very good of you to tell me all this, doctor," said Fanks, ironically; "I trust that you will have a pleasant voyage."
Renshaw looked nonplussed and a trifle disappointed at the coolness of the detective. It was Fank's intention to bring about this feeling; for if Renshaw had nothing to do with the crime, if he was not masquerading under a false name, the detective did not see that it was necessary to make these elaborate explanations. It seemed to Fanks that Renshaw's anxiety to bestow gratuitous information as to his movements had its root in a design to mislead the police. Notwithstanding the assurances of Vaud, his suspicions of Renshaw revived in full force under this clumsy diplomacy; and he bent his energies to get to the bottom of the matter. To this end he affected indifference, and gave Renshaw plenty of rope with which to hang himself.
"Am I to understand that I am free to go?" demanded the stout doctor, in a highly dramatic manner.
"I suppose so; this is a free country."
"You do not think--my friend--any knowledge--murder?" jerked Turnor, as he looked eagerly at Fanks.
The detective saw the eagerness and wondered. "Hallo! my friend," he thought, "are you in this also?" However, he answered the question in the calmest manner. "I was not aware that I had made any accusation against Dr. Renshaw," was his suave reply.
"But I have been watched," cried Renshaw; "watched like a criminal."
"You don't say so," said Fanks, imperturbably. "And who is watching you? And why have you been watched?"
The two doctors looked at one another, and, from a covert sign made by Turnor to Renshaw, the detective became convinced that there was an understanding between them. He guessed that the sign hinted at the conclusion of the interview, and this interpretation proved correct. Turnor rose and jerked out an apology.
"Mistake!" said the little man. "Told Renshaw--moonshine--no watching. Hope you'll catch--murderer."