“My niece did not consult me before she took this step. I must confess that had she done so I should—I should have entertained grave doubts as to the advisability of her action. However, as matters have turned out, she was fully justified. I was, of course, present at the inquest. Since then I have had several interviews with both these ladies. The last took place yesterday afternoon and was—was of a somewhat disquieting nature.”

“Really, sir?”

“Yes. It is a matter of some delicacy. I have hesitated—I have hesitated for some time before making this appointment. I learn that since the inquest Miss O’Callaghan has visited you and has—has suggested that you go no further with your investigation.”

“Miss O’Callaghan,” said Alleyn, “was extremely distressed at the idea of the post-mortem.”

“Quite. Quite so. It is at her request that I have come to see you myself.”

“Is it, by Jove!” thought Alleyn.

“Miss O’Callaghan,” continued Mr. Rattisbon, “fears that in her distress she spoke foolishly. I found it difficult to get from her the actual gist of her conversation, but it seems that she mentioned a young protégé of hers, a Mr. Harold Sage, a promising chemist, she tells me.”

“She did speak of a Mr. Sage.”

“Yes.” Mr. Rattisbon suddenly rubbed his nose very hard and then agitated his tongue. “She appears to think she used somewhat ambiguous phrasing as regards the young man, and she—in short, inspector, the lady has got it into her head that she may have presented him in a doubtful light. Now I assured her that the police are not to be misled by casual words spoken at a time of emotional stress, but she implored me to come and see you, and though I was disinclined to do so, I could scarcely refuse.”

“You were in a difficult position, Mr. Rattisbon.”

“I am in a difficult position. Inspector Alleyn, I feel it my duty to warn you that Miss Ruth O’Callaghan, though by no means non compos mentis, is at the same time subject to what I can only call periods of hysterical enthusiasm and equally hysterical depression. She is a person of singularly naïve intelligence. This is not the first occasion on which she has raised an alarm about a matter which subsequently proved to be of no importance whatever. Her imagination is apt to run riot. I think it would not be improper to attribute this idiosyncrasy to an unfortunate strain in her heredity.”

“I quite appreciate that,” Alleyn assured him. “I know something of this family trait. I believe her father—”