He stared at the envelope blankly, then laid it down and stood looking for some time at the golden scorpion's tail. Finally, his hands resting upon the table, he found that almost unconsciously he had been listening—listening to the dim night sounds of London and to the vague stirrings within the house.
"Now, you are in danger. Before, you were not…."
Could he believe her? If in naught else, in this at least surely she had been sincere? Stuart started—then laughed grimly.
A clock on the mantel-piece had chimed the half-hour.
CHAPTER VI
THE ASSISTANT COMMISSIONER
Detective-Inspector Dunbar arrived at New Scotland Yard in a veritable fever of excitement. Jumping out of the cab he ran into the building and without troubling the man in charge of the lift went straight on upstairs to his room. He found it to be in darkness and switched on the green-shaded lamp which was suspended above the table. Its light revealed a bare apartment having distempered walls severely decorated by an etching of a former and unbeautiful Commissioner. The blinds were drawn. A plain, heavy deal table (bearing a blotting-pad, a pewter ink-pot, several pens and a telephone), together with three uncomfortable chairs, alone broke the expanse of highly polished floor. Dunbar glanced at the table and then stood undecided in the middle of the bare room, tapping his small, widely separated teeth with a pencil which he had absently drawn from his waistcoat pocket. He rang the bell.
A constable came in almost immediately and stood waiting just inside the door.
"When did Sergeant Sowerby leave?" asked Dunbar.
"About three hours ago, sir."