"Chiefly because you weren't in, Mr. Teal," said the man truthfully.
Teal turned on his heel and went back into Scotland Yard, and was lucky enough to catch the day telephone operator, who was just going home.
"They tell me there's been no message from the chief today," said Teal. "But are you certain he didn't speak to anyone on the phone?"
"Yes, Mr. Teal, he did. He spoke to Mr. Cullis about six o'clock. The lines got crossed while I was putting somebody else through, as a matter of fact, and I heard him tell Mr. Cullis to stay on tonight until the chief sent him word again."
Teal nodded.
"Thanks. That's all I wanted to know. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sir."
Teal changed his mind about going home himself. Instead, he returned to his office, took off his overcoat again, and sat down in the dark with a fresh piece of gum.
The departure of Mr. Assistant Commissioner Cullis from his usual routine was explained, even if nothing else was. But there were still far too many things about which Mr. Teal was in the dark; and he meditated those things, for an hour and a half before light dawned on him in a blinding flash that made him shoot out of his chair as if he had been stung.
A moment afterwards he was tearing through a timetable. And he swore fluently when he found that he had missed the last train to the place where he wanted to go.