Coroner: "You are out of order, sir. And I would point out that, as yet,
Inspector Date has produced no witnesses."
Date glared. He and the Coroner were old enemies, and always sparred
when they met. It seemed likely, that the peppery little Professor would
join in the quarrel and that there would be a duel of three; but Date,
not wishing for an adverse report in the newspapers as to his conduct of
the case, contented himself with the glare aforesaid, and, after a short
speech, called Braddock. The Professor, looking more like a cross
cherub than ever, gave his evidence tartly. It seemed ridiculous to his
prejudiced mind that all this fuss should be made over Bolton's body,
when the mummy; was still missing. However, as the discovery of the
criminal would assuredly lead to the regaining of that precious Peruvian
relic, he curbed his wrath and answered the Coroner's questions in a
fairly amiable fashion.
And, after all, Braddock had very little to tell. He had, so he stated,
seen an advertisement in a newspaper that a mummy, swathed in green
bandages, was to be sold in Malta; and had sent his assistant to buy it
and bring it home. This was done, and what happened after the mummy
left the tramp steamer was known to everyone, through the medium of the
press.
"With which," grumbled the Professor, "I do not agree."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the Coroner sharply.
"I mean, sir," snapped Braddock, equally sharply, "that the publicity
given by the newspapers to these details will probably place the
assassin on his guard."
"Why not on her guard?" persisted the Coroner wilfully.
"Rubbish! rubbish! rubbish! My mummy wasn't stolen by a woman. What the
devil would a woman want with my mummy?"
"Be more respectful, Professor."
"Then talk sense, doctor," and the two glared at one another.
After a moment or two the situation was adjusted in silence, and the
Coroner asked a few questions, pertinent to the matter in hand.
"Had the deceased any enemies?"
"No, sir, he hadn't, not being famous enough, or rich enough, or clever
enough to excite the hatred of mankind. He was simply an intelligent
young man, who worked excellently when supervised by me. His mother is
a washerwoman in this village, and the lad brought washing to my
house. Noting that he was intelligent and was anxious to rise above his
station, I engaged him as my assistant and trained him to do my work."
"Archaeological work?"
"Yes. I don't wash, whatever Bolton's mother may, do. Don't ask silly
questions."
"Be more respectful," said the Coroner again, and grew red. "Have you
any idea as to the name of anyone who desired to obtain possession of
this mummy?"
"I daresay dozens of scientists in my line of business would have liked
to get the corpse of Inca Caxas. Such as--" and he reeled out a list of
celebrated men.