Kirk was there, he admitted, and a few seconds later he came tome in the hall.
He was a changed man. His face was thinner, sallower, more haggard, andthe lines about his mouth deeper and more marked; yet he greeted meaffably, with many apologies for not keeping his appointment.
"I was here, very busy," he explained. "I rang you up twice on the'phone, but each time you were engaged."
"Well," I asked, going straight to the point, "what have youdiscovered?"
"Very little," he said. "I've searched all day for finger-prints, butup to the present have found none, save those of Antonio, Ethelwynn, andmembers of the household."
"You do not suspect any of the servants?" I whispered, full ofsuspicion of the crafty-looking Italian.
"Of course not, my dear sir. What motive could they have in killingsuch an excellent, easygoing master as the Professor?"
"Revenge for some fancied grievance," I suggested.
But he only laughed my theory to scorn.
I followed him upstairs, through the red boudoir to the laboratory, towhich the fog had penetrated, and there watched him making his test forrecent finger-prints. His examination was both careful and methodical.He drew a pair of old grey suede gloves over his hands, and, taking upone after another of the bottles and glass apparatus, he lightly coatedthem with some finely powdered chalk of a grey-green colour, afterwardsdusting it off.
On one or two of the bottles prints of fingers were revealed, and eachof these he very carefully examined beneath the light, rejecting themone after the other.
To me, unacquainted as I was with the various lines of the finger-tips,all looked alike. But this shabby, mysterious neighbour of mineapparently read them with the utmost ease, as he would a book.
In its corner, in the same position in which we had left it on theprevious night, lay the hideous body of the Professor, crouching just ashe had expired. But Kershaw Kirk worked on, heedless of its presence.
I remarked to him that he was a careful and painstaking detective,whereupon he straightened his back, and, looking me in the face, said:
"Please don't run away with the idea that I'm a detective, Mr. Holford.I am not. I have no connection whatever with the police, whom, I maytell you, I hold in contempt. There's far too much red-tape at ScotlandYard, which binds the men hand and foot and prevents them doing any realgood work. Look at the serious crimes committed in London during thepast three years to the perpetrators of which the police have no clue!The whole police system in London is wrong. There's too muchobservation upon the speed of motor-cars and too little latitude allowedthe police for inquiry into criminal cases."
"Then you are not a police officer?" I asked, for within the last fewhours I had become suspicious that such was the fact.
"No, I am not. The reason I am inquiring into the death of ProfessorGreer is because, for the sake of my own reputation, and in order toclear myself of any stigma upon me, I must ascertain the truth."
"And only for that reason?" I queried.
He hesitated.
"Well--and for another--another which must remain a confidential matterwith myself," he replied at length. "The Professor was in possession ofa certain secret, and my belief is that this secret was stolen from himand his mouth afterwards closed by the thief."
"Why?"
"Because, had the unfortunate man spoken, certain complications, veryserious complications, involving huge losses, would have accrued. Sothere was only one way--to kill poor Greer! But the manner in whichthis was accomplished is still an absolute enigma."
"Has it not struck you that the telegram sent from Edinburgh may havebeen despatched by the assassin?" I asked.
But he was uncertain. He had as yet, he said, formed no theory as tothat portion of the problem.
"Where is the unfortunate girl?" I asked, for I had noticed that shewas not in the dining-room.
He looked at me quickly, with a strange expression in his peculiar eyes.
"She's still here, of course," he declared. "That second phase of themystery is as complicated as the first--perhaps even more so. Come withme a moment."
I followed him through the boudoir and into the study, where, opening along cupboard in the wall, a small iron safe was revealed, the door ofwhich opened at his touch.
"Here," he explained, "the Professor kept the valuable notes upon theresults of his experiments. The safe was closed when I first called,but this morning I found it open, and the contents gone!"
"Then the person who killed Professor Greer was not the thief!" Iremarked.
"Unless he returned here afterwards," was Kirk's reply, with his eyesfixed upon mine.
Then he glanced at his watch, and without a word turned upon his heeland passed out of the room.
CHAPTER SIX.
A FURTHER MYSTERY.
I stood awaiting his return for a few moments, and then followed him outupon the landing, where my feet fell noiselessly upon the thick Turkeycarpet. Almost opposite, across the open staircase, I could see intothe large drawing-room, and there, to my amazement, I saw Kirk raisingand lowering one of the blinds.
He was making the same signal to someone outside in the park as thatmade by the Professor before his death!
I slipped back to the study, much puzzled, but in a few moments hereturned, smiling and affable.
What signal had he made--and to whom? It was foggy outside, thereforethe watcher must have been in the close vicinity.
Antonio appeared at the door, whereupon Kirk gave the manservant certaininstructions regarding the payment and discharge of the servants.Apparently one of them had returned and asked for her wages in lieu ofnotice.
"Be liberal with them," urged my companion. "We don't want anygrumbling. There is no suspicion as yet, and liberality will disarmit."
"Very well, signore," replied the man, "I will pay them all and get ridof them as soon as possible."
"Yes, at once," Kirk snapped, and the man went down the stairs.
"Well," I asked, after he was out of hearing, "what do you intend doingnow?"
"I never set out any line of action. In such a case as this any suchmethod is folly," he replied.
"But at least you will do something with the bodies of the victims?They must be buried," I exclaimed, for the gruesomeness of it all wasnow preying upon me. This was the first time that I had ever beenimplicated in a murder mystery--_and such a mystery_!
"The disposal of the bodies is my own affair, Mr. Holford," he saidquietly. "Leave that to me. As far as the world knows, Professor Greerand his daughter are away visiting."
"But Lady Mellor! Is she not anxious regarding her niece'swhereabouts?"
"Lady Mellor is on the Riviera. Her house in Upper Brook Street is incharge of servants, therefore she is unaware that anything extraordinaryhas transpired."
"Your only confidant is Antonio?"
"And your own self," he added. "But have I not already impressed uponyou, my dear friend, the absolute necessity of secrecy in this affair?"
"You have given me no actual reason," I demurred.
"Because certain circumstances bind me to secrecy," was his reply."From what I have already told you I dare say you have gathered that Iam no ordinary individual. I am vested by a high authority with a powerwhich other men do not possess, and in this case I am compelled toexercise it."
He saw the look of disbelief upon my countenance.
"Ah," he laughed, "I see you doubt me! Well, I am not surprised; Ishould do so were I in your place. But, believe me or not, Mr. Holford,you will lose nothing, by assisting me in this affair and performing asecret service for the high authority who must be nameless, but whosetrusted agent I am--even though the onus of this strange tragedy may becast upon me."
"The whole affair is a mystery," I remarked--"an inscrutable mystery."
"Yes," he sighed, "one that has been rendered a hundredfold moreinscrutable by a discovery made to-day--the discovery which prevented mecalling upon you at eleven o'clock.
But remain patient, trust in me,assist me when I desire assistance, and it will, I promise, be wellworth your while."
For a moment I was silent. Then, a trifle annoyed, I answered:
"My legitimate profession of motor-engineer pays me quite well, and Ithink I prefer, with your permission, to retire from this affairaltogether."
"What!" he exclaimed. "After giving me your promise--your word as agentleman! Can't you see, my friend, that you can assist in furtheringthe ends of justice--in fastening the guilt upon the assassin?"
"That, I maintain, should be left to the police."
"Bah! The police in this case would be powerless. The problem is forus, you
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