In that swift darkness Racksole heard Rocco
spring on to the bed. Another half-dozen moments of suspense,
and there was a blinding flash of white, which endured for several
seconds, and showed Rocco standing like an evil spirit over the
corpse, the black box in one hand and a burning piece of
aluminium wire in the other. The aluminium wire burnt out, and
darkness followed blacker than before.
Rocco had photographed the corpse by flashlight.
But the dazzling flare which had disclosed the features of the dead
man to the insensible lens of the camera had disclosed them also
to Theodore Racksole. The dead man was Reginald Dimmock!
Stung into action by this discovery, Racksole tried to find the exit
from his place of concealment. He felt sure that there existed some
way out into the State bathroom, but he sought for it fruitlessly,
groping with both hands and feet. Then he decided that he must
ascend the rope-ladder, make haste for the first-floor corridor, and
intercept Rocco when he left the State apartments. It was a painful
and difficult business to ascend that thin and yielding ladder in
such a confined space, but Racksole was managing it very nicely,
and had nearly reached the top, when, by some untoward freak of
chance, the ladder broke above his weight, and he slipped
ignominiously down to the bottom of the wooden tube. Smothering
an excusable curse, Racksole crouched, baffled.
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