"Lord," said Webb testily, "how do I know? Any one can call themselves professors if they've a mind to--especially foreigners."
Derrick, who was standing in the small hall, started, and remembered what Miss Mason had said when he mentioned the stiletto. "Is this professor a foreigner?" he asked eagerly.
"A Greek. Bocaros means bull's head or bull's tail--at least it did when I was at school. Ah! I've been educated, though you mightn't think so, Mister Inspector."
Derrick passed over this remark. "Did you see this man?"
"No. My time's too valuable to run after foreigners. I wrote to him at the address given by Mrs. Brand. She said he was a cousin of hers. He wrote back saying that she was a respectable person. I dare say she was, but I don't believe she had a husband. If she had, why didn't he show? A commercial gent! Bah! Don't tell me."
"What address did Mrs. Brand give you?"
"Now that's queer. She gave me Ulysses Street, Troy!"
This time Derrick could not suppress an exclamation. "Why, that is only a stone-throw from Achilles Avenue. It's near Meadow Lane."
"I said it was queer," remarked Webb, nodding. "Perhaps he did her to death. What do you think?"
"I think you may have put a clue into my hand," said the inspector, noting the address in his useful little book. "Don't speak of this to any one. I'll make it worth your while."