Kirk hesitated. In that pause I scented an intention further to prevent me from speaking.
“Well, regard the matter calmly and without prejudice,” he said at last. “As a matter of fact, what evidence is there that the Professor is dead?”
“Evidence!” I cried. “Why, did not you and I see him dead? Did not his daughter stand before his lifeless body?”
“Ah, she would never tell what she saw!” he said, with a mysterious smile.
“Why not?” I asked, much surprised at his remark.
But my mysterious neighbour only shrugged his shoulders vaguely, answering:
“There is a reason why she will never admit his death—a strong reason.”
“Well,” I said, “I recovered from the ashes of the furnace certain remains—coat buttons and other scraps of clothing.”
“And you think they would be accepted as evidence that Professor Greer was done to death?” he laughed. “You are evidently unaware of the great caution exercised by the Criminal Investigation Department in accepting any evidence such as that which you could furnish. No,” he added, “only Antonio and Ethelwynn were the actual witnesses, in addition to ourselves, of the Professor’s tragic end. And as they refuse to admit that he is dead, any information you may lodge at Scotland Yard must only reflect upon yourself and bring greater peril upon Mrs Holford. I simply tell you the truth—believe me, or believe me not.”
“Well,” I exclaimed, “I disbelieve you, Mr Kirk.”