His eyes were unnaturally
bright, the cloudy remains in his glass indicated absinthe.
"Listen, you fellows!" he exclaimed. "Mr. Francis Ledsam, the
great criminal barrister, is going to solve the mystery of poor
old Victor's death for us!"
The three other young men all turned around from the bar. Their
eyes and whole attention seemed rivetted upon Francis. No one
seemed to notice the newcomer who passed quietly to a chair in
the background, although he was a person of some note and
interest to all of them. Imperturbable and immaculate as ever,
Sir Timothy Brast smiled amiably upon the little gathering,
summoned a waiter and ordered a Dry Martini.
"I can scarcely promise to do that," Francis said slowly, his
eyes resting for a second or two upon each of the four faces.
"Exact solutions are a little out of my line. I think I can
promise to give you a shock, though, if you're strong enough to
stand it."
There was another of those curiously charged silences. The
bartender paused with the cocktail shaker still in his hand.
Voss began to beat nervously upon the counter with his knuckles.
"We can stand anything but suspense," he declared. "Get on with
your shock-giving."
"I believe that the person responsible for the death of Victor
Bidlake is in this room at the present moment," Francis declared.
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