“Bring in that head waiter,” said Elk.
The head waiter either wouldn’t or couldn’t give information.
“Mr. Hagn always changes his clothes before he goes home,” he said.
“Why did he go before the club was closed?”
The man shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know anything about his private affairs,” he said, and Elk dismissed him.
Against the wall was a dressing-table and a mirror, and on each side of the mirror stood a small table-lamp, which differed from other table-lamps in that it was not shaded. Elk turned the switch, and in the glaring light scrutinized the table. Presently he found two wisps of hair, and held them against the sleeve of his black coat. In the drawer he found a small bottle of spirit gum, and examined the brush. Then he picked up a little wastepaper basket and turned its contents upon the table. He found a few torn bills, business letters, a tradesman’s advertisement, three charred cigarette ends, and some odd scraps of paper. One of these was covered with gum and stuck together.
“I reckon he wiped the brush on this,” said Elk, and with some difficulty pulled the folded slip apart.
It was typewritten, and consisted of three lines:
“Urgent. See Seven at E.S.2. No raid. Get M.’s statement. Urgent. F.1.”