'That's true,' said the policeman.
He looked at the Saint.
'Come on up with me,' he said.
'L-1-l-like a shot,' said the Saint timidly, and followed in the burly wake of the law.
They listened outside the door of the flat for some time, and, not unnaturally, heard nothing.
'Perhaps she's dead by now,' Simon ventured morbidly.
The law applied a stubby forefinger to the bell. A minute passed.
The law repeated the summons—without result.
The Saint cleared his throat.
'Couldn't we break in?' he said.
The law shook its head.
'Better wait till the inspector gets back. He won't be long.'
'Come up and wait in my flat.'
'Couldn't do that, sir. I've got to keep an eye on this door.'
Simon nodded.
'Well, I'll be off,' he sighed. 'I'll be upstairs if you want me.'
'If anything's happened, I expect the inspector will want to see you, sir. May I have your name?'
'Essenden,' said Simon Templar glibly. 'Marmaduke Essenden. Your inspector will know the name.'
He saw the name written down in the official notebook, and went up the stairs. On the landing above, he waited until he heard the constable tramping downwards, and then he descended again and let himself into his own flat.
He was reading, in his pajamas and a dressing gown, when his bell rang again an hour and a half later; and he opened the door at once.
Teal was outside; and behind Teal was the constable. Seeing Simon, the constable goggled.
'That's the man, sir,' he blurted.
'I knew that, you fool,' snarled Teal, 'as soon as you told me the name he gave you.'
He pushed through into the sitting room. His round red face was redder than ever; and for once his jaws seemed to be unoccupied with the product of the Wrigley Corporation.
The constable followed; and Simon humbly followed the constable.
'Now look at that!' said Teal sourly.
The Saint stood deferentially aside; and the constable stood in his tracks and gaped along the line indicated by Mr. Teal's forefinger. The Saint had not interfered with the improvised dummy in the chair. He had felt that it would have been unkind to deprive the constable of the food for thought with which that mysteriously motionless silhouette must have been able to divert his vigil. 'And while you were making a fool of yourself up here,' said Teal bitterly, 'Jill Trelawney was walking out of the front door and getting clean away. And you call yourself a policeman!'
Simon coughed gently.
'I think,' he
