"Ah, Inspector Duff," he remarked. "I find a few of our party, are still out, but I am rounding up everybody possible. They will all be here, as I told you, by ten o'clock. There are a number on this floor, and--"

"Just a moment," Duff broke in. "I am particularly interested in the occupants of the rooms on either side of this one. In 27, Mr. Kent tells me, there is a Mrs. Spicer. Will you kindly see if she is in, Doctor Lofton, and if so, bring her here?"

Lofton went out, and Duff stepped to the bed, where he covered over the face of the dead man. As he returned from the alcove, Lofton reentered, accompanied by a smartly dressed woman of about thirty. She had no doubt been beautiful, but her tired eyes and the somewhat hard lines about her mouth suggested a rather gay past.

"This is Mrs. Spicer," Lofton announced. "Inspector Duff, of Scotland Yard."

The woman stared at Duff with sudden interest. "Why should you wish to speak with me?" she asked.

"You know what has happened here this morning, I take it?"

"I know nothing. I had breakfast in my room, and I have not until this moment been outside it. Of course, I have heard a great deal of talking in here--"

"The gentleman who occupied this room was murdered in the night," said Duff, tersely, studying her face as he spoke. The face paled.

"Murdered?" she cried. She swayed slightly. Hayley was quick with a chair. "Thank you," she nodded mechanically. "You mean poor old Mr. Drake? Such a charming man. Why--that's--that's terrible."

"It seems rather unfortunate," Duff admitted. "There is only a thin door between your room and this. It was locked at all times, of course?"

"Naturally."

"On both sides?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I know nothing of this side. It was always locked on mine." Duff's little stratagem had failed.

"Did you hear any noise in the night? A struggle--a cry, perhaps?"

"I heard nothing."

"That's rather odd."

"Why should it be? I am a sound sleeper."

"Then you were probably asleep at the hour, the murder took place?"

She hesitated. "You're rather clever, aren't you, Inspector? I have, of course, no idea when the murder took place."

"Ah, no--how could you? At about four this morning, we believe. You have heard no one talking in this room within, say--the last twenty-four hours?"

"Let me think. I went to the theater last night--"

"Alone?"

"No--with Mr.