directly or indirectly connected with such a crime. I am going to ask you, therefore, to tell me what Miss Deveney was doing in these flats on that particular evening."
Wrayson was silent. In the light of what he had just been told about the Baroness, he knew very well how Heneage would regard the truth. Of course, she was innocent, innocent of the deed itself and of all knowledge of it. But Heneage did not know her; he would be hard to convince. So Wrayson shook his head.
"I can tell you nothing," he said. "I admit frankly my sympathies are not with you. I should not say a word likely to bring even inconvenience upon Miss Deveney."
"Dare you tell me," Heneage asked calmly, "that her visit was to you? No! I thought not," he added, as Wrayson remained silent. "I believe that that young lady could solve the mystery of Morris Barnes' death, if she chose."
Then Wrayson had an idea. At any rate, the disclosure would do no harm.
"Do you know who Miss Deveney is?" he asked.
Heneage looked across at him quickly.
"Do you?"
"Yes! She is the eldest daughter of the Colonel!"
"Our Colonel?" Heneage exclaimed.
Wrayson nodded.
"Her real name is Miss Fitzmaurice," he said. "Her mother's name was Deveney."
Heneage looked incredulous.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Wrayson answered. "I saw her picture the day of the garden party, and I recognized her
