The dramatic suicide of Martin Delverton, and the solution of a mystery
which had been relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes produced a
sensation. The public clamored for intimate particulars concerning
Christopher Quarles, the house in Chelsea was besieged by hopeful
interviewers, and the professor could only escape their attentions by
going out of town. It was an excellent excuse for golf, he declared, and
an opportunity to improve on his five handicap. I am bound to say that
while I was with him he never went round in less than twenty over bogey,
and when he only took twenty over he had luck.

This sudden enthusiasm on the part of the public was the cause of some
difficulty and not a little annoyance so far as I was personally
concerned.

As I have said elsewhere, I have constantly received the credit of
unmasking a scoundrel simply because Quarles chose to remain in the
background, but I have never claimed any credit to which I was not
entitled. It was distinctly hard, therefore, when all the praise for
bringing a series of crimes to light was given to him when justly it
should have been accorded to me. I had been engaged on the work at the
time the case of Eva Wilkinson had cropped up, my investigations had
prevented my accompanying Quarles and Zena to Devonshire. He would be the
first to deny that he had any part in solving these problems. I daresay I
mentioned certain points about them to him, he may possibly have made a
suggestion or two, but it is only because he had really nothing to do
with them that they have found no place in his chronicle. I admit I was
much annoyed, because I rather prided myself on the astuteness I had
displayed.