"There are certainly some disturbing elements in it," admitted Viner.
Just then came another interruption; for the second time since his return from the police-court, he was summoned to the telephone. To his great surprise, the voice that hailed him was Mrs. Killenhall's.
"Is that Mr. Viner?" the voice demanded in its usual brisk, clear tones.
"Yes," answered Viner. "Is that Mrs. Killenhall?"
"Yes!" came the prompt reply. "Mr. Viner, can you be so very kind? Miss Wickham and I have come down to the City on some business connected with Mr. Ashton, and we do so want somebody's help. Can you run down at once and join us? So sorry to trouble you, but we really do want a gentleman here."
"Certainly!" responded Viner. "I'll come to you at once. But where are you?"
"Come to 23 Mirrapore Street, off Whitechapel Road," answered Mrs. Killenhall. "There is some one here who knew Mr. Ashton, and I should like you to see him. Can you come at once? And have you the address right?"
"A moment—repeat it, please," replied Viner, pulling out a memorandum book. He noted the address and spoke again: "I'll be there in half an hour, Mrs. Killenhall," he said. "Sooner, if it's possible."
"Thank you so much," responded Mrs. Killenhall's steady voice. "So good of you—good-bye for the present, then."
