The light was strong there, revealing clearly every nook and corner of the room.

All was exactly as I recalled it to memory--the stained walls, the dirty floor, the table littered with cards, the overturned chair and the motionless body of the dead man.

I ventured half way to the window, staring about at every sign revealed in the glare.

From the wound in the head a dark flow of blood stained the floor, and, as I bent closer, noticed the eyelids were lowered over the dead eyes.

Shot as he had been, killed instantly, the hand of the assassin must have performed this act.