discovery of the body?"
"I will swear to it," cried Iris firmly.
"The date of his cheque, which the Bank has, will show that. Heprobably cashed it himself on the day he paid you, any way the daybefore. Now, on the day preceding and the day following that tragedy,can you prove where you were?"
Iris began to see light. "Of course I can. The day after I had thenotes, I got up a sprained ankle, an obliging doctor, an old (or ratheryoung) friend of mine, sent a certificate to the theatre. I motoreddown to Brighton with Johnny Lascelles--who, by the way, used to makeRoddie fearfully jealous. We joined a jolly little party at `The OldShip.' I came back the day after the discovery in Cathcart Square."
Davis rose and gave a great shout: "You have witnesses who can swear tothat?"
"Of course," answered Iris, not even yet comprehending the full drift ofthe question. "Johnny Lascelles motored me there and drove me back.Then there was Cissy Monteith, Katie Havard, Jack Legard and others whowere with me all the time."
"You silly little idiot," cried Reginald Davis. "And what the deuce doyou mean by saying that you might be implicated?"
"The notes," she faltered. "My meeting him alone in that empty house.They might suggest I murdered him, if you say he was murdered."
Davis smote his forehead in impotent anger at her denseness. "How couldyou have murdered him when you were at Brighton all the time?"
He smote the palms of his hands together.
"I will find out who the dead man was, and also the man who forged myname to that letter to the Coroner."
He turned to his sister: "As for you, young woman, it may be you willhave a bad quarter of an hour, if it all comes out about Roddie. Butnever mind, you will have a splendid advertisement. The next bunch ofletters you get hold of, the price will be twice seven thousand pounds."
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
The following morning Reginald Davis, resolved to unearth the mystery of10 Cathcart Square, stood in the private room of Mr Bryant of ScotlandYard.
He had easily overcome his younger sister's scruples, her terror athaving to give evidence in a court of justice, and being forced todisclose certain transactions not too creditable to herself. She hadcome to see from the point of view artfully suggested by Davis, that, onthe whole, it would be a very good advertisement. It might even takeher from her place in the chorus to a small acting part, and then herfortune would be made. She might be able to come across another richman whom she would like well enough to marry, a man quite different fromthe somewhat invertebrate Roddie.
Bryant looked up from his papers, and regarded the young man with hiskeen and steady gaze. Davis's good looks, and frank air impressed himfavourably.
"Well, my man, what do you want with me? I don't usually see strangerswho approach me in such a mysterious fashion. You would neither stateyour name nor business, only said vaguely that you wanted to interviewme on a matter of great urgency."
"I wished to keep my business for your private ear, sir. Can you throwyour mind back to a certain gruesome affair that happened at 10 CathcartSquare?"
"Certainly, although I was not in charge of the matter. The man wasidentified as Reginald Davis, who was wanted on a charge of murder, thecircumstantial evidence against him being very strong; the verdictreturned was one of suicide. If I recollect rightly, he had broken apane of glass in one of the back windows of the house, unhasped thelatch of the window, and cut his throat upstairs after he got inside.The facts were accepted at the time as conclusive evidence of hisguilt."
"And you recollect, sir, what happened a short time ago with regard tothe crime of which Reginald Davis was accused?"
"Perfectly. The real criminal has confessed. And this poor devil,overwhelmed no doubt by the circumstantial evidence which told sostrongly against him, acted too hastily."
"If the police had caught him, he would probably have been hanged bynow," said Davis a little bitterly.
Mr Bryant looked a little uneasy. "I should say it is more thanprobable from what I remember of the case; well, you know, the law makesmistakes at times, I will admit."
"And juries at inquests make mistakes at times, also," remarked Davisquietly. "This particular jury made a mistake. The dead man was nomore Reginald Davis than you are."
It was not easy to startle Mr Bryant, he had been through too manystrange experiences for that, but he exhibited a mild surprise as he putthe question: "And what authority have you for saying that?"
"I think you will admit the best. I, who stand before you, am theReginald Davis who was wanted on that false charge of murder, andbranded by that intelligent jury as a suicide."
"You can prove this, of course. I mean that you are the real ReginaldDavis."
"Of course I can, sir; I can bring a dozen witnesses, if necessary, halfof whom have known me since a boy."
Needless to say that a man of Bryant's experience did not, as a rule,believe one quarter of what he was told. But this man's face--thisman's tones--convinced him that he was listening to the truth.
He rose from his chair. "Wait here a moment, please, while I hunt upthe particulars of this case. As I told you just now, I was not incharge of it, and I should like to refresh my memory as to certaindetails."
He came back after a few moments. "I know it all now, from A to Z. Youwere identified by a married sister, a Mrs Masters, who gave somedetails of your career, which did not seem to have been a very healthyone. She was also shown a letter which you were supposed to havewritten to the Coroner, and she believed it to be in your handwriting.This wants some explanation, I think, Mr Davis, to call you by the namewhich you say is your right one."
"Quite so, sir," answered Reginald composedly. "It certainly requires agood deal of explanation, but if you will listen to me with a littlepatience, I think I can convince you that the thing is more natural thanit appears." The Inspector threw himself back in his chair: "I have nodoubt it was your sister who identified you, but how did she come tomistake the actual suicide for you?"
And Mr Davis gave the explanation which Bryant might believe or not, orbelieve in part, as he chose.
"My sister Caroline was deeply attached to me. She was in despair whenshe heard that I was suspected of murder, and was being hunted by thepolice. As day after day, week after week, went by, and there was nonews of my capture, she got it firmly fixed in her mind that I hadcommitted suicide. She hunted the newspapers every morning to find someparagraph that would confirm her fears. And then one day she read aboutwhat had happened at Cathcart Square."
Mr Bryant was now deeply interested. He leaned forward in his chair,and his attitude betokened his eagerness.
"It is possible that her mind had become a little unhinged by heranxiety. She expected to find me, and she found a man who might havepassed for my twin brother. So she tells me now that I have revealedmyself, for, of course, I lay very low until this belated confession ofthe real murderer."
Bryant only made a brief comment on this particular portion of thenarrative which Davis was twisting about with some skill. Of course,Mrs Masters had not been deceived by the accidental resemblance, but inpretending to be she had given that brother a new lease of life.
"You say that the man was so like you that the sister, who had known youfrom childhood, was ready to swear he was her brother?"
"There is no doubt, sir, that at the time her mind was clouded. Shewent there expecting to find me, and as a not altogether unnaturalresult, she found what she expected."
"We will let that pass," said the Inspector drily. "No doubt, underextraordinary circumstances, strange hallucinations are apt to occur.It was very fortunate for you that your sister made that mistake, andthat it was accepted. As you admitted just now, if you had been caughtand tried it would have gone very hardly with you."
Whatever Bryant thought in his own mind, it was evident that he wasprepared to admit that Mrs Masters had acted in good faith when sheswore that the dead man was her brother. Davis could see ther
e would beno trouble on that score.
"Now we come to the letter," pursued Davis. "I questioned my sistervery closely about that last night. She says she was so overwhelmedwith the discovery that she read that letter through a mist, as it were,but she is positive that it closely resembled my handwriting."
"Another hallucination, I suppose, or an accidental resemblance. Well,if you will leave a specimen of your own calligraphy with us, we cancompare them," said Bryant.
"And I suppose, sir, you will have the body exhumed, for the purpose ofdiscovering who the man really was?"
"I suppose so," replied the Inspector a little unwillingly. "Although Idon't expect we shall ever find out. Nobody came forward at the