A bath and breakfast at the Central Hotel made him feel fresh and fit as he sallied forth to keep his appointment in Angus Lane, Sauchiehall Street. Ten o’clock was chiming from the city towers as he pushed open the office door of No. 327, which bore the legend, ‘Mr. Henry Gordon, Wholesale Tea Merchant.’ That gentleman was expecting him, and he was ushered into his private room without delay.
‘Good morning, sir,’ he began, as Mr. Gordon, a tall man with small, fair side whiskers, and two very keen blue eyes, rose to meet him. ‘I am an Inspector from Scotland Yard, and I have taken the liberty of making this appointment to ask your help in an inquiry in which I am engaged.’
Mr. Gordon bowed.
‘Well, sir, and what do you wish me to do?’
‘To answer a few questions, if you don’t mind.’
‘I shall be pleased if I am able.’
‘Thank you. You were in Paris recently, I believe?’
‘That is so.’
‘And you stayed at the Hotel Continental?’
‘I did.’