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That’s why I’m with you—that’s why I want”—his voice trembled again—“the murderer of Shelah Fane more than I’ve ever wanted anything in all my life before.”

Charlie looked at him with a sort of awe. Was this the man who had been scattering all those false clues about the place?

“I am glad of this frankness, lately as it arrives,” the detective said, with an odd smile.

“I should have told you at once, I presume,” Tarneverro continued. “I was, as a matter of fact, on the point of explaining my relationship to Denny as we rode down to Shelah’s house. But, I reflected, the information would not help you in the least. And I did not want it to become known why I was telling fortunes in Hollywood. If it did, of course my career there would be ended. Suppose, I said to myself, Inspector Chan fails to find Shelah Fane’s murderer. In that case I must go back to Hollywood and resume my quest. They are still coming to me with their secrets. Diana Dixon consulted me to-day. That is why, until Denny’s murderer is found, I do not want my real name made public. I rely on you gentlemen to be discreet.”

“You may do so,” Chan nodded. “Matter remains buried as though beneath Great Wall of China. Knowing how firmly you are with us in this hunt adds on new hope. We will find Shelah Fane’s murderer, Mr. Tarneverro—and your brother’s all same time.”

“You are making progress?” asked the fortune- teller eagerly.

Charlie regarded him fixedly. “Every moment we are approaching nearer. One or two little matters—and we are at journey’s end.”