“What about the ownership of the house?” Quest asked, as he took up his hat.
The Inspector nodded approvingly.
“I am making a few enquiries in that direction,” he announced. “I expect to have something to report very shortly.”
The Professor stood drawing on his gloves. The vague look of trouble still lingered in his face.
“Tell me again,” he begged, “the name of the avenue in which this residence is situated?”
“Gayson Avenue,” the inspector replied. “It’s a bit out of the way, but it’s not a bad neighbourhood.”
The Professor repeated the address to himself softly. For a moment he stood quite still. His manner showed signs of growing anxiety. He seemed to be trying to remember something.
“The name,” he admitted finally, as they moved towards the door, “suggests to me, I must confess—We are going to see the house, Inspector?”
“We are on our way there now, sir—that is, if the young ladies are willing?” he added, glancing at Laura.
“We’ve been waiting here with our hats on for the last half-hour,” Laura replied promptly. “You’ve stretched your ten minutes out some, Mr. French.”