taken place there the previous afternoon; visualizing the missing housekeeper's hurried preparations for flight. Probably she had set off when Gregson and Stainsby were both out; probably Stainsby, returning, had caught sight of her going away, and had followed her; probably Stainsby was following her in the taxi-cab in which he, Wedgwood, had seen him at the Surrey end of Westminster Bridge. In that case where were they now—and why hadn't Stainsby communicated with him?
Suddenly the detective stepped forward and picked up the gown which had been thrown anyhow across the bed—a morning gown of blue linen. He held it up for a moment; then thrust a hand into the side pocket.
"If there's anything it'll be here!" he muttered. "And—it is here!"
He drew out a crumpled scrap of paper—a telegram. In another second he had read it at a glance, noting that its date was that of the previous day.
Catch 5.30 Waterloo will meet Southampton West 7.16.
Wedgwood laughed as he threw the gown back on the bed and put the telegram in his own pocket.
