“You saw Robert Turold’s body soon after you arrived at Flint House?”

“Within a few minutes.”

“How long had he been dead?”

“About ten minutes, I should say.”

“What was the cause of death?”

“He was shot through the main blood vessel of the left lung.  It was possible to arrive at that conclusion from the very severe haemorrhage.  The blood was still flowing freely when we broke into the room.  That would cause death from heart failure, following the haemorrhage, within two or three minutes, in all probability.”

“He was quite dead when you entered the study?”

“Quite.”

“How long after was the body carried into the bedroom?”

“An hour or more.  It was some time before Pengowan arrived, and Thalassa and he removed the body a little later.”

Barrant looked disappointed at his reply.  “Would it be possible to make marks on a corpse after that length of time?” he asked.

“What sort of marks?” asked the doctor.

“There was a mark of five fingers on the left arm, made by a left hand.”

“Then you have finger-prints to help you?”

“Unfortunately no.  It’s a grip—­a clutch—­which, will not reveal print marks in the impressions.  I thought they might have been caused during the removal of the body.”

“It is not possible to make such marks on a corpse.  Reaction sets in at the moment of death.  Sometimes blue spots appear on a dead body, and such appearances have been occasionally mistaken for bruises.”

“Did you observe any marks when you examined the body?” asked Barrant as he rose to his feet.

“No, but my examination was confined to ascertaining if life was extinct.”

Barrant thanked him and said good night.  The doctor rose also, and escorted him to the door.

Outside, a wild west wind sprang at him.  Barrant pulled his hat over his eyes and hurried away.

The following morning he sought out Inspector Dawfield at his office in Penzance and disclosed to him his conclusions about the case.

“I intend to go to London by this morning’s train, Dawfield,” he announced.  “We must find Robert Turold’s daughter.”

“You think she has gone to London?”

“I feel sure of it, and I do not think it will be difficult to trace her.  I shall try first at Paddington.  I will get the warrant for her arrest backed at Bow Street, and put a couple of good men on the search before returning here.  You had better have the inquest adjourned until I come back.  This is no suicide, Dawfield, but a deep and skilfully planned murder.”

“I should think the flight of the girl makes that pretty clear,” said Dawfield, as he made a note on his office pad.

Barrant shook his head.  “It’s too strange a case for us to have any feeling of certainty about it yet,” he said.  “There is some very deep mystery behind the facts.  Every step of my investigation convinces me of that.  The disappearance of Miss Turold does not explain everything.”