"Well, you keep an eye on her," counselled the detective. "Watch her movements. If Wraypoole's in London she may go to meet him. Don't show any signs of doing so, but keep your eyes skinned—I'll see you're all right. And now look here—do you know where Thomas Wraypoole kept his banking account?"
"Yes!" replied Stainsby, promptly. "London and Surburban, in Wandsworth Road—two or three hundred yards from our place."
"All right!" said Wedgwood. "I'll make a private enquiry there. Now you get back to the warehouse and do what I tell you. If anything occurs you know what to do. But say nothing to Gregson."
He sat for some time after Stainsby had gone, thinking things over. To a man of his habit of thought this last action of Thomas Wraypoole's was highly suspicious. He began to think of the previous grounds for suspicion. There was the mystery of Thomas's movements on the evening of John's murder. There was the fact that on the evening he was certainly in the neighbourhood of Handel Street. There was the visit to John's rooms first thing on the morning after the murder. There was the burning of papers and documents at those rooms; the carrying away of other things, probably destroyed elsewhere. And there was
