I was, of course, still in custody, for beside my bed a young constable dozed in his chair, his hands clasped before him and his tunic unloosened at the collar. Just, however, before I dropped off to sleep another constable stole in on tiptoe and called him outside. Whether he came back I don’t know, for I dozed off and did not wake again until the nurse came to take my temperature, and I found it was morning.
I was surprised to see that the constable was no longer there, but supposed that he had gone outside into the corridor to gossip, as he very often did.
At eleven o’clock, however, the inspector came along the ward, followed by two men in plain-clothes, evidently detectives.
“Well,” he commenced, “I’ve made some inquiries, and I must apologise, sir, for doubting your word. Still suicides tell us such strange tales that we grow to disbelieve anything they say. You notice that you’re no longer in custody. I withdrew the man at five this morning as soon as I had ascertained the facts.”
“Have you found that fellow Himes?”
“We haven’t been to look for him yet,” was the inspector’s reply. “But—” And he hesitated.
“But what?” I asked.
“Well, sir, I hardly think you are in a fit state to hear what I think I ought to tell you.”
“Yes. Tell me—tell me everything.”
“Well, I’ll do so if you promise to remain quite calm—if you assure me that you can bear to hear a very extraordinary piece of news.”