As
its tinkle sounded somewhere up the yard behind, he thrust his whistle
into Viner's hand.
"Mr. Viner," he said, "go up to the end of the passage and blow on that
as loud as you can, three times. I'll stand by here till you come back.
If you don't hear or see any of our people coming from either direction,
blow again."
Viner heard steps coming down the yard behind the door as he walked away.
And he heard more steps, hurrying steps, as he reached the end of the
passage. He turned it to find an inspector and a sergeant approaching
from one part of the terrace, a constable from another.
"You're wanted down here," said Viner as they all converged on him.
"There's been murder! One of your men's there--he gave me this whistle to
summon further help. This way!"
The police followed him in silence down the passage. Another figure had
come on the scene. Bending over the body and closely scrutinizing it in
the light of the policeman's lantern was a man whom Viner knew well
enough by sight--a tall, handsome man, whose olive-tinted complexion,
large lustrous eyes and Vandyke beard gave him the appearance of a
foreigner.
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