They must find the coat, unless it had been put beyond reach of recovery. When Ellery arrived Joan told him that they were going to lunch together at the Avenue Restaurant opposite Hatton Garden. In a few words she told him what he was to do.
At the Avenue Joan remained at the table they had chosen, while Ellery went to the gentlemen’s cloak room. There was no attendant in the room at the time, and Ellery made a quick survey of the two or three dozen hats and coats which were hanging there. What he was looking for was at any rate not among them. In a few minutes the attendant came in, and Ellery entered into talk.
“Do you get many hats and coats left behind here?” he asked.
“Not many, sir. Sometimes a gentleman leaves a coat or an umbrella; but he generally comes back for it. Gentlemen sometimes leave things when they’re a bit on, sir, if I may put it so without taking a liberty. But not often, sir. Most of the customers here are very regular gents. When things is left we keep them here for a week or two and then we send them to the Lost Property Office. Have you lost something, sir?”
“No, but a friend of mine thinks he left a coat and opera hat here a week or so ago. Have you found anything of the sort?”
“Yes, I have,” said the porter. “And what’s more, I’m damned, sir—begging your pardon, sir, if I could make it out at all. Gentlemen don’t usually walk about in opera hats at lunch time, or go away leaving their hats behind. But this lot was left at lunch-time. I know that, sir, because it weren’t here in the morning, and I noticed it after lunch.”
“Perhaps it had my friend’s name in it.”
“No, sir, that it hadn’t. I searched that coat, and not a name nor a scrap of paper was there on it. A pair of gloves and a few coppers was all it had in it.”
“Wasn’t there a name in the hat either?”
“No, there wasn’t, or we would probably have found the owner by now.”