Dick took the paper from his subordinate’s hand and read it.
“He’s wrong about the no raid,” he said. “E. S., of course, is Eldor Street, and two is either the number two or two o’clock.”
“Who’s ‘M.’?” asked Elk, frowning.
“Obviously Mills—the man we caught at Wandsworth. He made a written statement, didn’t he?”
“He has signed one,” said Elk thoughtfully.
He turned the papers over, and after a while found what he was looking for—a small envelope. It was addressed in typewritten characters to “G. V. Hagn,” and bore on the back the stamp of the District Messenger service.
The staff were still held by the police, and Elk sent for the doorkeeper.
“What time was this delivered?” he asked.
The man was an ex-soldier, the only one of the prisoners who seemed to feel his position.
“It came at about nine o’clock, sir,” he said readily, and produced the letter-book in confirmation. “It was brought by a District Messenger boy,” he explained unnecessarily.