John Wraypoole came from that neighbourhood."
"So do a great many other people, Mr. Wedgwood," said Mrs. Patello. "I could name many here in London. But that proves nothing. Mrs. Clagne never mentioned Mr. John Wraypoole to me. Nor did she mention this young woman who calls herself, I'm told, Avice Mortover! There was nothing known of her, then—I mean at the time my sister was here."
Wedgwood remained silent for a few minutes. He was thinking; fitting things together. He knew, as a result of his investigations at Netherwell, that Janet Clagne was in London—that is to say, at Tooting—at the time of Wraypoole's murder; that just previous to that she had been in conversation with Wraypoole at Mrs. Chipchase's shop in Netherwell; and that there was strong presumption that when she and Wraypoole separated at the tea-shop door they arranged a meeting at the Russell Square Tube Station on the very evening on which, as it turned out, Wraypoole met his death. So—either Mrs. Patello was lying, with consummate art, or Janet Clagne had kept things strictly to herself.
"Why should you be concerned, Mrs. Patello, about this girl Avice Mortover?" he asked
