Next morning he was early at work. He was very thorough and painstaking, leaving no restaurant till he had interviewed every one who might conceivably help him, from the manager down to the cloakroom attendant. For a long time he had no luck. But at last in the late afternoon, when he had worked half down his list and visited no less than seventeen restaurants, he found what he wanted.
It was a small but expensive French place on the border of Soho, with an unobtrusive exterior, and a quiet, excellent service—a place frequented by a well-to-do but, Tanner somehow imagined, rather disreputable clientéle. Here Sir William’s photograph received instant recognition.
‘But yes, monsieur,’ the polite manager assured him. ‘I remember this gentleman distinctly. He come here—let me see—about three weeks ago, I think. He come early and he ask for me. He wish a private room and lunch for three. Presently two other gentlemen join him. They lunch. After coffee he give orders that they be not disturbed. They stay there for ver’ long time. Then they leave and this gentleman’—the manager tapped the photograph—‘he pay for all.’
‘Can you tell me what day that was?’
By looking up his records of the hire of the room the manager could. It was Monday the 5th July. Further inquiries elicited the information that Sir William had reached the restaurant about twelve, and had remained till three, when he left with his friends.
‘Together?’ asked Tanner.
‘At the same time, monsieur, yes; but not in company. The old gentleman’—again the manager indicated the photograph—‘he drive off in a taxi. The other two walk.’
‘Now those other two. Would you kindly describe them.’
As he listened to the manager’s reply, the Inspector got a sudden idea. He took from his pocket the half-dozen photographs he had used when tracing Cosgrove’s movements, and asked the other if the two friends were among them. The manager glanced over them, then bowed and smiled.
‘These are the gentlemen,’ he declared, picking out those of Austin and Cosgrove.