"I see. What time did you get to the Bellona?"
"I should reckon it was about twenty minutes to seven, sir, or just a little bit more. There was a tidy bit of traffic about. Between twenty and ten to seven, as near as I can recollect."
"Excellent. Well, you have both been very helpful. That will be all to-day, but I'd like you to leave your names and addresses with Mr. Murbles, in case we might want some sort of a statement from either of you later on. And—er——"
A couple of Treasury notes crackled. Mr. Swain and Mr. Hinkins made suitable acknowledgment and departed, leaving their addresses behind them.
"So he went back to the Bellona Club. I wonder what for?"
"I think I know," said Wimsey. "He was accustomed to do any writing or business there, and I fancy he went back to put down some notes as to what he meant to do with the money his sister was leaving him. Look at this sheet of paper, sir. That's the General's handwriting, as I've proved this afternoon, and those are his finger-prints. And the initials R and G probably stand for Robert and George, and these figures for the various sums he means to leave them."
"That appears quite probable. Where did you find this?"
"In the end bay of the library at the Bellona, sir, tucked inside the blotting-paper."
"The writing is very weak and straggly."
"Yes—quite tails off, doesn't it. As though he had come over faint and couldn't go on. Or perhaps he was only tired. I must go down and find out if anybody saw him there that evening. But Oliver, curse him! is the man who knows. If only we could get hold of Oliver."