"I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Hetherwick!" exclaimed Robmore abruptly. "This house is empty! Empty of people, anyway."
"Silent enough, to be sure," agreed Hetherwick. "The woman——"
"You've frightened her by calling here," said Robmore. "Then she slipped round to Pencove Street. And there she found Ambrose dead! She's some connection with him and Baseverie, because she possesses a key that admits to that yard. And finding Ambrose dead, she came back here, got her things and cleared out. There isn't a soul in this house. I'll lay anything on that!"
"It struck me that this might be the place where the two ladies were detained," remarked Hetherwick.
"We'll soon see about that," declared Robmore. "Come upstairs—we'll search the place from top to bottom. But stop, downstairs first."
He ran down the stair to the cellar kitchen, with Hetherwick at his heels. And at the door he laughed, pointing within.
"Look there!" he exclaimed. "I told you you'd interrupted things. See! there's one tea-tray, laid out all ready for two—cups and saucers, teapot, bread and butter cut, cake. There's another for one. And there's the kettle, singing away like a bird on a bough. What's that mean? The woman was going to carry up tea for two, somewhere; t'other tray was for herself. Well, you nipped that in the bud; she'll have to get her tea somewhere. But—the others? Come upstairs."
Going back to the hall, he led the way up the main staircase. There were two stories above the ground floor; on the first were rooms the doors of which, being opened, or being found open, revealed nothing but ordinary things: of these rooms there were three, opening off a main landing. But on the next floor there were only two rooms; one was unfurnished: at the door of the other, a few inches ajar, the detective immediately paused.
"Look you there, now, Mr. Hetherwick!" he said, pointing here and there. "Here's recent work! Do you see that a strong bolt, more like a bar, has been fitted on the outside of this door, and the door itself fitted with a new patent lock, key outside? And, good Lord! a chain as well. Might be in a gaol! But what's inside?"
He pushed the door open and revealed a large room, fitted with two small beds, easy chairs, a table on which books, magazines, newspapers lay; on the table, too, was fancy-work which, it was evident, had been as hastily laid aside as the sewing downstairs. Hetherwick bent over the things, but Robmore went to the one window.