“Very unfortunate circumstances required me to,” Lowry said solemnly. “It was absolutely necessary, or I never would have done it. Cross my heart and hope to die, Brady, old man.”

Dr. Clayton got down on one knee and scrutinized the slumbering Carrol.

“He’ll be all right,” he said after a brief examination. “I think I can fix him up.”

“All right, go to it, Doctor,” Brady said. Turning to Harrison, he said, “Suppose we have a look around here while the doc’s working.”

Brady, Harrison, and the uniformed men went back to the living room. Lowry and Terry looked on as Dr. Clayton ministered with efficient skill to Carrol. After a few moments the stunned man opened his eyes and looked dazedly about him.

“Lowry,” Brady called loudly from the other room. “Come on in here, will you? I want to talk to you. And bring the girlfriend, too.” Lowry and Terry went to the living room. “Did you tail Carrol here?” Brady asked, his eyes unfriendly.

“More or less,” Lowry said. “We were on our way here ourselves when we spotted Carrol. We just followed him and he led us right to the door.”

“And why were you coming here? A little more of your amateur sleuthing?”

“Well—” Lowry started to say.

But the sentence was cut abruptly short after the first word. A shot rang out from the bedroom like the sharp, throaty bark of a big dog.

“Carrol!” Brady yelled.

The policemen dashed pell-mell to the bedroom. Lowry followed at a somewhat more leisurely pace. Terry grasped his arm and went along with him.

It was not a pretty sight.

Dr. Clayton was bending over the fallen Carrol. The top of Carrol’s head was a hideous mess of scrambled blood and bone. His hand lay outstretched at his side, and in it was clasped the gun which he had earlier pointed at Terry. The line cord, wrenched apart, still hung from his wrists.

“I started to go to the bathroom to wet this towel,” Dr. Clayton said, rising and holding out the towel. “But just as I got there and reached for the faucet, I heard the shot.” Brady covered the revolver with a handkerchief and took it from Carrol’s lifeless hand. He slipped it into his pocket.

Lowry came close to Clayton.

“It’s too bad you didn’t wear gloves, Dr. Clayton. Because the only fingerprints they’re going to find on that gun will be Carrol’s and yours. I should have remembered to take that gun away, but I guess I thought Carrol was in no condition to use it anyway. And he’s a small loss in any case.”

“Yes, naturally,” Clayton said, maintaining his assured, dignified professional manner. “My fingerprints will be on the gun, certainly. I touched it hoping to take it away before he might have a chance to shoot again. I didn’t realize at first that he’d succeeded in killing himself immediately.”