Elk 04 White Face Page 20

  Mason nodded.

  “You have no questions to ask me?”

  Mr. Mason considered.

  “I don’t think there is anything I can ask you, Doctor. You won’t tell me the names of the two fences who bought the diamonds you stole?”

  Marford shook his head slowly, laughter in his eyes.

  “That would be unprofessional, wouldn’t it?” he said.

  “That crazy man in the court—did he know?”

  “He’s a very good guesser. I sometimes think he’s psychic,” said Marford. “Every time I met him he used to give me just the oddest, understanding look.”

  “I was talking about your lisp just now, Doctor. I’ve never noticed it before,” said Mason again.

  “I haven’t a lisp”—Dr. Marford stretched himself luxuriously in his chair—“and I haven’t any impediment of speech. But, you see, I recognise inevitabilities, and for the last hour and a half I have had in my mouth—it is now between my teeth—a little glass phial of cyanide of potassium—”

  Three detectives flung themselves upon him, but it was too late. He shuddered slightly; a spasm of pain passed over his face, and he stiffened. There was no other movement.

  Mason looked at him in admiration.

  “Game, eh?” he said huskily. “By God, how game!”

  He turned abruptly and walked across to the charge-room, and came, bare-headed, into the street, to breathe the sweet air of morning. The day was breaking.