He looked at her admiringly. "By Jove! Carrie, you were always the cleverest of the lot of us. That was a brain-wave of yours, walking in and identifying me as the suicide." Mrs. Masters smiled appreciatively. "Yes, it came to me in a flash. I read the account in the papers. It struck me I might do something useful. I went up to the court with the tale of a missing brother. I saw the body; the poor creature might have been your twin. Of course, I swore it was you, and gave you a new lease of life." She added severely, "I hope you have taken advantage of what I did, and become a reformed character." Davis spoke very gravely. "Yes, Carrie, I swear to you I have. That shock was the making of me. I have lain very low, worked hard, and put by money."
He pulled out an envelope from his breastpocket, and thrust it into her hand; it was full of one-pound notes.
"Fifty of the best, old girl, for a little nest-egg. I have not forgotten my best pal, you see."
The tears came into Mrs. Masters' eyes. He had been a bad egg, but he had a good heart at bottom.
"That is very sweet of you, Reggie; it will come in very useful. And now to go back for a moment to Cathart Square. Who was the poor devil who killed himself there? He was as like you as two peas are like each other."
"I think we have got to find that out," said Reginald Davis gravely. "Nor, reading the account in the papers, am I quite sure that it was a suicide."
"But that was the verdict," interrupted the sister.
"I know, but there are peculiar things about the case. Letters addressed to Reginald Davis were found on him; there was a letter signed Reginald Davis, addressed to the Coroner, announcing his intention to commit suicide. Those letters had been placed there by the person who murdered him, and that person who murdered him was somebody who knew me, unless it was the accidental taking of a common name."
"But the razor was clutched in his hand, Reggie!"
"Quite easy," replied Davis, who, if not a murderer himself, could easily project himself, apparently, into the mind of one. "We will assume, for the moment, it was a man. He cut the poor devil's throat, and then thrust the razor into his stiffening hand, to convey the idea of suicide."