to clean up some pressing routine matters before proceeding with his investigation of the Odell case. Heath, I knew, was to come for a conference at ten o'clock. In the meantime there was nothing for Vance to do but read the newspapers; and I occupied myself in like manner.
Punctually at ten Heath arrived, and from his manner it was plain that something had happened to cheer him immeasurably. He was almost jaunty, and his formal, self-satisfied salutation to Vance was like that of a conqueror to a vanquished adversary. He shook hands with Markham with more than his customary punctility.
"Our troubles are over, sir," he said, and paused to light his cigar. "I've arrested Jessup."
It was Vance who broke the dramatic silence following this astounding announcement.
"In the name of Heaven—what for?"
Heath turned deliberately, in no wise abashed by the other's tone.
"For the murder of Margaret Odell and Tony Skeel."
"Oh, my aunt! Oh, my precious aunt!" Vance sat up and stared at him in amazement. "Sweet angels of heaven, come down and solace me!"
Heath's complacency was unshaken.
"You won't need no angels, or aunts either, when you hear what I've found out about this fellow. I've got him tied up in a sack, ready to hand to the jury."
The first wave of Markham's astonishment had subsided.
"Let's have the story, Sergeant."
