“Uh,” said Miss Fairhurst, taking the hand in her own for a moment, and then dropping it again as if it had been red hot.

“Won’t you sit down?” said Henry, still nervous, but feeling that, with every moment that passed, he was getting a better control of the situation, difficult though that situation still was.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully, and sank into the depths of a cosy arm-chair.

“And now,” Henry went on, “can you tell me what I can do for you, Miss Arnell?”

She shuffled a little in her chair. She was plainly ill at ease. Whatever her request might be, she seemed to be finding it difficult to put into words. She made one or two attempts to speak, and then, with a plaintive smile, gulped, and began again.

“I understand, Mr. Fairhurst,” she said at last, “that you know a good deal about this case.”

“Huh!” Sarah grunted contemptuously, but Henry, taking his courage in both hands, disregarded her interruption and devoted himself to replying to Miss Arnell’s question.

“I know a certain amount about it,” he said modestly. “You see, I happen to have seen your father just before his unfortunate death, Miss Arnell. And I happen to have been the person who was able to discover that Dr. Wilkinson, of Northfield University, died in somewhat similar circumstances some months ago.”

“I understood that from the papers,” she said. “It was that that made me ring you up, Mr. Fairhurst. I just looked your name up in the telephone book. Oh, you must help me!”

“Of course I will,” he replied earnestly. “But what is it that you want me to do? And, in any case, why are you so upset? I know that this death of your father is a very dreadful thing…but why the sudden upset feeling now? Why did you ring me up today?”

Violet Arnell looked him straight in the face. Her eyes brimmed over with tears, and her mouth set in a hard line. The effort of keeping her composure was clearly a troublesome one. Then she spoke, pronouncing each word separately, with a distinct pause between each, as if she found the very act of articulation difficult.

“They…arrested…Harry…Baker…today,” she said.

While Henry was still puzzling over this statement he saw a surprising thing. He saw Sarah’s face dissolve into a sudden unwonted kindness, and he saw Sarah swiftly rise from her chair, and go towards Violet Arnell. His sister turned her head in his direction, and spoke in a strange, clipped voice.

“Go into the kitchen quickly,” she said. “Open the cupboard on the left of the gas-oven, and get out that bottle of brandy. Quick, man! Don’t stand there like a ninny. Do what I tell you.”