The taxicab which had brought the police officers was standing some few paces farther on, its strong lights only just piercing the intensity of the fog, and its throbbings, as the taximeter marked off twopences with unerring rapidity, filled the night with their strangely familiar sound.
The three men got into the cab, the officer telling the chauffeur to remain stationary until told to move on.
"I know very little about the business, Mr.—er—Travers," remarked Luke as soon as all three of them had stowed themselves fairly comfortably in the interior of the vehicle. "I suppose it is about this ghastly affair that you wanted to speak to me."
"Yes, sir. It was about that. I thought you could give us some information about the late Mr. de Mountford's past life, or his former friends."
"I know nothing," retorted Luke dryly, "of my cousin's past or present life. He did not confide in me."
"But you were good friends?" interposed the other quickly.
"We knew each other very little."
"And to-night?"
"I saw him at his club."
"Where was that?"