"That's a fact," said Tracey coolly. "I've got a long tongue and an inquiring mind. I shan't read the paragraph. But it seems that he--Derrick, I mean--has found out the woman's name."
"How interesting!" said Bocaros, unmoved and in rather a bored tone. "How did he find it out?"
"Well, some one wrote from Hampstead," said Tracey, throwing the paper aside, and giving the gist of his information, "and let out there was a woman who lived in Coleridge Lane who had a white room, same as that she was murdered in."
"Coleridge Lane!" repeated Bocaros, opening his eyes. "I know some one living there. What is this woman's name?"
"The inspector," continued Tracey, taking no notice of this direct question, "went to see this room. He found the house shut up. The landlord had the key, and with the landlord he entered. He found, as was stated, a room similar in all respects to the one in Ajax Villa, though the furniture was poor. More than that, there was a portrait on the mantel-piece of the woman who was murdered."
"You can give me the details afterwards," said Bocaros hastily. "At present I want to know the woman's name."
"Keep your hair on, professor. Her name is Brand."
Bocaros rose from his chair and, dropping his pipe, threw up his hands with a foreign ejaculation. "Brand! Flora Brand?"
"Yes. How do you come to know her front name?"
"She is my cousin," said the professor, and sat down to cover his face with his hands.