This reference to a police-station and inspector would have filled Timmons with alarm early in the interview, but now he was in no fear. If this man intended to betray him, why had he not done so already? and why had he not taken the gold for evidence?
"But if you left Forbes's, how did you get away? Through the front-door in Chetwynd Street, or through the side-door in Welbeck Place?"
"Through neither. Through the door of the bakehouse into the mews."
Timmons started. This might account for Stamer's story of the ghost.
"But who wound the clock? I saw you do it, Mr. Leigh--I saw you do it, sir, and all this Birmingham tale is gammon."
"Again you are wrong. And now, to show you how far you are wrong, I will tell you a secret. I have two deputies. One I told that fool Williams about, and requested him as a great favour not to let a soul know. By this, of course, I intended that every one who enjoyed the privilege of Mr. Williams's acquaintance should know. But of my second deputy I never spoke to a soul until now, until I told you this moment. The other deputy is a man extremely like me from the waist up. He is ill-formed as I am, and so like me when we sit that you would not know the difference across your own store. But our voices are different, very different, and he is more than a foot taller than I. You did not see the winder last night standing up. He always takes his seat before raising the gas."
A light broke in on Timmons. This would explain all. This would make Stamer's story consist with his own experience of the night before. This would account for this man, whom Stamer said he had shot, being here now, uninjured. This would make the later version of the tale about Birmingham possible, credible. But--awful but!--it would mean that the unfortunate, afflicted deputy had been sacrificed! Yes, most of what this man had said was true.
"What's the unfortunate deputy's name?" he asked, with a shudder.
"But it must come out on the inquest, to-day or to-morrow, or whenever they find the remains."
"Remains of what?" asked Leigh, frowning heavily.
"Of your deputy. They say in the paper it was you that lost your life in the fire."
"Fire! Fire! Fire where?" thundered the dwarf, in a voice which shook the unceiled joists above their heads and made the thinner plates of metal vibrate.