Elk 04 White Face by Edgar Wallace Page A

if you’ll believe it…I haven’t even kissed him-ugh!”
    He patted her shoulder gently.
    “Naturally my pride is hurt, but I haven’t crashed so utterly as I should if I—well, if this thing had gone on before I found it out. You’ll never laugh at me, will you, Michael?”
    She put up her hand and laid it on that which rested on her shoulder.
    “No, I shan’t laugh at you.”
    She sat gazing into the glowing electric fire, and then:
    “Why did you ask about the ring?”
    He made the plunge.
    “Because I’ve been lying about it to Mason—Superintendent Mason of Scotland Yard.”
    She was up on her feet instantly, here eyes wide with alarm.
    “Scotland Yard! Have they got the ring? Have they arrested him? Michael, what is it?” She gripped his arm. “You’re hiding something—what is it?”
    “I’ve been hiding something—yes. I’ve been hiding from Mason the fact that the ring was yours. It was in Endley Street. I picked it up myself, near the place where the body of a murdered man was found.”
    “A murdered man was found in Endley Street.” She repeated the words slowly. “That was the case you were on…Who was it? Not Donald Bateman?”
    He nodded.
    “O God, how awful!”
    He thought she was going to faint, but when he reached out to catch her she pushed him back.
    “He was stabbed by some person unknown,” said Michael. “I—I’ve seen him. That’s how I knew about the scar.”
    She was very still and white but she showed no other signs of distress.
    “What was he doing there?” she asked. “He didn’t know the neighbourhood; he told me to-day he’d never been there before in his life. Nobody knows who did it?”
    He shook his head.
    “Nobody. When I saw the ring I recognised it at once. Like a fool I gave myself away, and Mason, who’s as sharp as a packet of needles, knew I was lying when I told him I had never seen it before. He may advertise the ring to-morrow unless I tell him.”
    “Then tell him,” she said instantly. “Dead! It’s unbelievable!”
    She sat down in the chair again, her face in her hands. He thought she was on the verge of a breakdown, but when she raised her face to him her eyes were tearless.
    “You had better go back, my dear. I shan’t do anything stupid—but I’m afraid I shan’t sleep. Will you come early in the morning and let me know what has been discovered? I intended going to see Dr. Marford to-morrow to ask him to let me come back to the clinic, but I don’t think I can for a day or two.”
    “I don’t want to leave you like this,” he said, but she smiled faintly.
    “You’re talking as if I were a mid-Victorian heroine,” she said. “No, my dear, you go. I’d like to be alone for a little while.”
    And then, to his great embarrassment, she raised his hand and kissed it.
    “I’m being motherly,” she said.
    If there were no tears in her eyes, pain was there. He thought it wise of him to leave at once, and he went back to Tidal Basin to find the streets alive with police, for two important things had happened; two new phases of the drama had been enacted in his absence.
    CHAPTER X
    A framed photograph is not a difficult object to find, and black boxes in which ladies keep their treasures deposited beneath their beds are far from becoming rarities. Mason would have liked to have Elk with him, but the sergeant had gone on to join Bray. A watch was being kept on the block in which Louis Landor’s apartments were situated. Bray had telephoned through that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Landor was yet at home. Evidently something was wrong here, for the servant, who had returned and was awaiting admission, told Bray that she had been sent out earlier in the day, that there had been some sort of trouble between a couple that were hitherto happily married. She had been told she need not return until late. Bray had found her waiting disconsolately outside the flat, and had persuaded her to spend the night with a sister who lived in the