“Where is he?”
“I think he has gone to London.”
Barrant was plainly taken aback at this unexpected piece of news. “When did he go?” he demanded.
“Yesterday evening.”
Barrant cast a look at Dawfield, which said plainly: “He’s had word of this and bolted.” His glance returned to Austin. “Can you tell me where he is staying in London?”
“I have not the least idea,” returned Austin negligently.
“Does he not live with you?”
“As a rule—yes.”
“What is your London address?”
Austin took a card from his case and laid it on the table. Barrant picked it up, glanced at it, and said: “Is your son likely to be there?”