Henshaw with a start fell back a step.
"Worse," he repeated. "You don't mean to say--"
"He is dead."
"Dead!" Surprise and shock raised the word almost to a shout. "You--"
"We have," Morriston said quietly, "only discovered the terrible truth
within the last hour or so."
"But dead?" Henshaw protested incredulously. "How--how can he be dead?
How did he die? An accident?"
"I am afraid it looks as though by his own hand," Morriston answered in a
hushed voice.
The expression of incredulity on Henshaw's face manifestly deepened. "By
his own hand?" he echoed. "Suicide? Clement commit suicide? Impossible!
Inconceivable!"
"One would think so indeed," Morriston replied with sympathy. "May I tell
you the facts, so far as we know them?"
"If you please," The words were rapped out almost peremptorily.
Morriston pointed to a chair, but his visitor, in his preoccupation,
seemed to take no notice of the gesture, continuing to stand restlessly,
in an attitude of strained attention.
The other three men had seated themselves. Morriston without further
preface related the story of the locked door in the tower and of the
subsequent discovery when it had been opened.
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