"Good evening, sir," he said, and then paused, staring at me
curiously.
"Good evening, constable," I replied.
"You are not the gentleman who ran out awhile ago," he said, a
note of suspicion coming into his voice.
I handed him my card and explained what had occurred, then:
"It must have been Mr. Adderley I saw," muttered the constable.
"You saw--when?"
"Just before you arrived, sir. He came racing out into St.
James's Street and dashed off like a madman."
"In which direction was he going?"
"Toward Pall Mall."
*****
The neighbourhood was practically deserted at that hour. But
from the guard on duty before the palace we obtained our first
evidence of Adderley's movements. He had raced by some five
minutes before, frantically looking back over his shoulder and
behaving like a man flying for his life. No one else had seen
him. No one else ever did see him alive. At two o'clock there
was no news, but I had informed Scotland Yard and official
inquiries had been set afoot.
Nothing further came to light that night, but as all readers of
the daily press will remember, Adderley's body was taken out of
the pond in St. James's Park on the following day. Death was due
to drowning, but his throat was greatly discoloured as though it
had been clutched in a fierce grip.
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