"Because his body," returned the Inspector grimly, "is at present in the East Street mortuary."
I have had several fairly unpleasant shocks in the course of my life, but this one was something of a novelty. Even Billy, whose usual equanimity nothing but an earthquake can disturb, was surprised into a long low whistle of amazement.
So they had got him after all! Despite his unscrupulous cunning, despite the almost devilish ingenuity with which he had covered his tracks, Ignace Prado's long and black account was ended. I thought of Mercia, and I was glad.
"As a breaker of news, Inspector," I said, "you seem to me a little abrupt. When did this regrettable accident occur?"
"It's not my place to answer any questions now, sir," replied the Inspector civilly. "The charge will be read over to you at the station; and if you wish to employ counsel, we shall afford him the usual facilities."
I nodded. "You'll forgive me bothering you," I said, "but I've had so little experience of being arrested for murder. What happens next?"
The Inspector's eyes twinkled. "I shall have to ask you to accompany me to Bow Street, where you will be detained until this charge is cleared up."
"May I come too?" inquired Billy, coolly lighting a cigarette.
"This is Mr. Logan, Inspector," I said. "I don't know whether you're looking for him as well?"
The Inspector shook his head. "I have no warrant for your arrest, sir; but since you arrived with Mr. Burton, I shall have to keep you under observation till to-morrow."