`Listen to this! Notes of some sort, with dashes between. Apparently it's in Driscoll's handwriting:
` "Best place?.:. Tower?… Track down hat… Unfortunate Trafalgar… can't transfix… 10… Wood Hedges or shield. Find out".'
`But that's gibberish!' General Mason protested, somewhat — superfluously. `It doesn't mean anything. At least, it may have meant something, but….'
`But he's left out the connecting words,' Hadley supplied. `It seems to refer to some clue for following our hat-man.'
`Read that again!' Dr Fell. suddenly boomed from his coreer. On his big face was a blank expression which slowly turned to something like amusementas the chief inspector; repeated the words….
`Mrs Larkin is here, sir,' said the voice of Sergeant Hamper from the door.
A series of chuckles were running down the bulges of Dr Fell's waistcoat. His small eyes twinkled, and ashes' from his pipe were blown about him. He looked like the Spirit of the Volcano.
Mrs Amanda Georgette. Larkin looked about carefully before she entered, rather as though she expected to find a bucket of water balanced on the top of the door. Then she marched in, saw the empty chair beside Hadley's' desk, and sat down without further ado. She was a tall, rather heavy, woman, well dressed in dark clothes of the sort called 'sensible'; which word, as in its usual context, means an absence of charm.
Hadley hitched his own chair round. `Mrs Larkin, I am Chief Inspector Hadley. Naturally, you understand, I dislike having to inconvenience any of you. But you may be able to give us some very important information.'
`Maybe,' grunted Mrs Larkin, hitching her shoulders. 'But, first, before you ask me any questions, give me your word anything I say will be treated as a confidence.'