There was a bullet wound in her right temple. The ball had pierced her brain, and she was dead.
On the right hand was a glove into which the fingers had been fitted, but the thumb and upper part of the hand were still bare.
The first inference drawn from this fact was that she had been shot while engaged in putting on her gloves preparatory to leaving the office.
In the minute which followed, Nick made one of his lightning ocular inspections of the premises, in which very little was left to be discovered.
At the end of that time the sound of many rushing footsteps was heard coming up the stairs.
All this time the two men in the room with him remained silent and inactive.
Nick walked into the main office, and met the first man of the ascending throng at the door.
It was a young policeman, whom Nick happened to know quite well.
“Ah, Brown!” exclaimed Nick, confronting the officer at the threshold, “I’m glad ’tis you. You’ll understand me without a lengthy explanation.[{7}]”
“Who are you?” panted Brown, for Nick of course, was in disguise.