His form stiffened to military erectness, his face took on the purposeful aspect of a man about to carry to fruition plans which he had long nourished in secret.

And as the others gazed on him, the conviction forced itself on them that here was a man who would pursue whatever course he had in mind, pitilessly, relentlessly, through whatever wilderness of lies and deceit it might lead.

A cold silence fell on them, as if they had been suddenly chilled by the frigid attitude of the detective.
"Coroner, the alibis which Mr.Luckstone presented are worthless," the detective said in a subdued voice that nevertheless penetrated his hearers like an icy wind.
"You mean they are manufactured ?" blurted the coroner.
"No--they are true.

But they have no bearing on the murder." "What!" The coroner shot a searching glance at Britz.

"If none of the suspects was at Whitmore's office, how could any of them have killed Whitmore ?" "Mr.Whitmore was not killed in his office," said Britz firmly.