“It’s scientifically correct to talk of natural death from shock,” said Vance, when we were alone; “but our immediate problem, d’ ye see, is to ascertain the cause of that sudden shock. Obviously it’s connected with Drukker’s death. Now, I wonder. . . .”
Turning impulsively, he entered the drawing-room. Mrs. Menzel was sitting where we had left her, in an attitude of horrified expectancy. Vance went to her and said kindly:
“Your mistress died of heart failure during the night. And it’s much better that she should not have outlived her son.”
“Gott geb’ ihr die ewige Ruh’!” the woman murmured piously. “Ja, it is best. . . .”
“The end came at about ten last night.—Were you awake at that time, Mrs. Menzel?”
“All night I was awake.” She spoke in a low, awed voice.
Vance contemplated her with eyes half shut.
“Tell us what you heard?”
“Somebody came here last night!”
“Yes, some one came at about ten o’clock—by the front door. Did you hear him enter?”