“I was knocked down and rendered insensible by a cab,” I explained. “When I again became conscious I found myself in a strange house.”
“They didn’t rob you?”
I felt in my pockets, but I could not discover that I had lost anything. I remembered that I had only a couple of half-sovereigns and some loose silver upon me, and this remained still in my pocket. My fingers touched the stud and pencil-case, and I hesitated whether to give these up to the police. But next second the thought flashed through my mind that if I did, suspicion might be aroused against me, and further that while I kept them in my possession I should possess a secret clue to the victims of the terrible tragedy.
After I had fully explained the whole circumstances, and the inspector had written down with infinite care each word of my remarkable statement, he said—
“It seems as though both the man and woman fell victims to some plot or other. You say that there were no high words, and that all you heard was a woman’s shriek, and a man’s voice say, ‘Why, you’ve killed her!’ Now, have you any idea of the identity of that man?”
“None whatsoever,” I answered. “My mind is a perfect blank on everything, save the personal appearance of the man who was afterwards struck to the heart.”
“Exactly. But don’t you think that the man who expressed horror at the first crime fell the victim of the second?”
“Ah! I never thought of that!” I said. “Of course, it seems most likely.”
“Certainly. The second crime was committed undoubtedly in order to conceal the first.”
“Then how extraordinary it is that I was spared.”