"Well, it looks to me as if Baseverie had gone ahead to collect that box containing the jewels, and that Ambrose was to follow later, join him there, when Baseverie had secured the loot, and that they were then to be off with their harvest! But—do you notice this—the name under which the passage is booked? Not Ambrose—Charles Andrews, Esquire. Andrews! And Baseverie is Basing. Basing and Andrews. Now I wonder if they carried on business here under these names?"
"That's an unimportant detail," said Hetherwick. "The important thing, surely, is—that! How did that man come by his death?"
"Well, but I don't think that is very important—just now," replied Robmore. "After all, he is dead, and whether he died as the result of a sudden seizure, or whether Baseverie cleverly poisoned him before he left, is a question we'll have to settle later. But I'll tell you what, Mr. Hetherwick—I'll lay anything he didn't poison himself! Look round—there isn't a sign of anything he's been drinking out of. No, sir—the other man's done this. And if Matherfield has the luck to lay hands on him to-night—ah! But now, what was this your clerk, Mapperley, told us as we came along about the Little Smith Street landlady coming here this afternoon?"
"She was followed here by Goldmark," replied Hetherwick. "Goldmark saw her admit herself by a key which she took from her pocket. She stayed inside a few minutes, came out looking much upset, and hurried away to her own house."
"And now you and I'll just hurry after her," said Robmore. "After all, she's living, and we'll make her find her tongue. Of course, she came in here expecting to find this man, and to tell him somebody was on the look-out. And—she found him dead! Come round there with me, Mr. Hetherwick, at once."
He turned to the other detective and the constable, and after giving them some whispered instructions, left the room, Hetherwick, after a word or two with Mapperley, following him. But before they had reached the outer door, they heard steps in the yard, and suddenly two men appeared in the doorway.
If Hetherwick and his companion looked questioningly at these two men, they, on their part, looked questioningly at Robmore and Hetherwick. They were youngish men—Hetherwick set them down as respectably-dressed artisans. That they were surprised to find anyone confronting them at the door whereat all four now stood, was evident; their surprise, indeed, was so great that they came to a sudden halt, staring silently. But Robmore spoke. "Wanting somebody?" he asked sharply.
The two strangers exchanged a glance, and the apparently elder one replied:
"Well, no!" he said. "Not that we know of. But might we ask if you are? And how you got in here? Because this place happens to be ours!"
"Yours!" exclaimed Robmore. "Your property?