Part 38 (1/2)

”Nothing whatever! I have heard of him,” said Miss Wickham with a glance of surprise. ”I suppose he--somehow--got into touch with Miss Killenhall.”

”Queer!” remarked Viner. ”And why doesn't he come in?”

Then, resolved to know more, he walked into the anteroom, and after a look round it, tried the door by which Mrs. Killenhall had admitted him after coming up the stairs from the street; a second later he went back to Miss Wickham and shook his head.

”It's just as I supposed,” he remarked quietly. ”We're trapped! Anyway, the door of that anteroom is locked--and it's a strong lock. There's something wrong.”

The girl started, and paled a little, but Viner saw at once that she was not likely to be seriously frightened, and presently she laughed.

”How very queer!” she said. ”But--perhaps Mrs. Killenhall turned the key in the outer lock so that no--patients, or other callers, perhaps--should come in?”

”Sorry, but that doesn't strike me as a good suggestion,” replied Viner.

”I'm going to have a look at that window!”

The one window of the room, a long, low one, was set high in the wall, above the panelling; Viner had to climb on a bookcase to get at it. And when he had reached it, he found it to be securely fastened, and to have in front of it, at a distance of no more than a yard, a blank whitewashed wall which evidently rose from a pa.s.sage between that and the next house.

”I don't like the look of this at all!” he said as he got down from the bookcase. ”It seems to me that we might be kept here for a long time.”

Miss Wickham showed more astonishment than fear.

”But why should any one want to keep us here for any time?” she asked.

”What's it mean?”

”I wish I knew!” exclaimed Viner. He pulled out his watch and made a mental note of the time. ”We're being kept much longer than we should be in any ordinary case,” he remarked.

”Of course!” admitted Miss Wickham. ”Well past three o'clock, isn't it? If we're delayed much longer, Mrs. Killenhall will be too late for the bank.”

”What bank?” asked Viner.

”My bank. I always give Mrs. Killenhall a check for the weekly bills every Friday, and as we were coming through the City to get here, she said, just before we left home, that I might as well give her the check and she could call and cash it as we drove back. And,” concluded Miss Wickham, ”the bank closes at four.”

Viner began to be suspicious.

”Look here!” he said suddenly. ”Don't think me inquisitive, but what was the amount of the check you gave her?”

”There was no amount stated,” replied Miss Wickham. ”I always give her a blank check--signed, of course--and she fills in the amount herself. It varies according to what she wants.”

Without expressing any opinion on the wisdom of handing checks to other people on this plan, Viner turned to Miss Wickham with a further question.

”Do you know anything about Mrs. Killenhall's movements this morning?” he asked. ”Did she go out anywhere?”

”Yes,” replied Miss Wickham. ”She went to the police-court, to hear the proceedings against Mr. Hyde. She wanted me to go, but I wouldn't--I dislike that sort of thing. She was there all the morning.”

”So was I,” said Viner. ”I didn't see her. But the place was crowded.”

”And she was veiled,” remarked Miss Wickham. ”Naturally, she didn't want people to see her in a place like that.”

”Do you know whether she went to the previous sitting? I mean when Hyde was brought up the first time?” inquired Viner. ”I remember there were some veiled ladies there--and at the coroner's inquest, too.”

”She was at the coroner's inquest, I know,” replied Miss Wickham. ”I don't know about the other time.”