I could see it wasn't when I got a closer look at him. He was better dressed and held himself straighter."
"Ah! Could you describe him? Did you notice the number of the car?"
The driver scratched his head. "A sort of ordinary-looking man, sir. I didn't take much stock of him. The car was A 1245—a big brown thing with an open body."
"Right you are, White," said Foyle with a nod of dismissal. "That will do for now. You go down and wait in the yard with your cab, and we'll get some one to go with you to Kingston. And keep your mouth shut about what you've told us."
When the door closed behind the man, his eyes met those of the chief detective-inspector. "You'll have to go to Kingston, Green. It's a hot scent there. You've got the numbers of the notes that Maxwell got from the bank. Find out if any of them were changed at the tailor's. They've taken precautions to blind the trail. What I think happened is, that she telephoned from the General Post Office to some motor-car firm to send a car from London to Kingston railway station, under the impression that it would be less risky. He went into the tailor's place to arrange for a change of clothes, and she dismissed the taxi as a measure of precaution. It was a piece of luck that the man noticed the motor-car, but we can't be absolutely certain of the number he gave. He had no particular reason to remember it. Anyway, I'll send it out to the county police, and ask them to keep their eyes open. Meanwhile, I'll set some men to work to see if any of the big garages have sent a car to Kingston, and
get the number verified. If you 'phone me when you get down there, I'll let you know how things stand."
Green had his hand on the handle of the door, but suddenly something occurred to him. "Do you think she's gone with him, sir?"
Heldon Foyle made a little gesture of dissent. "I don't think it likely. It would double the danger of identification. But we can soon find if she's gone back to her home. I told Taylor, who is watching in Berkeley Square, to report when she returned." He touched a bell and put a question to the man who entered.
"Yes, sir," was the reply. "He rang up half an hour ago. You told me I wasn't to disturb you. He reported Lady Eileen Meredith had just gone in."
"There you are, then, Green," said Foyle. "That point's settled. You get along. I wish I could come with you, but it won't do for me to leave London just now, and goodness knows where you may have to finish up. Good-bye and good luck."