"I'm afraid that this cannot go on." There was a suggestion of irritability in his voice.
"Then have it stopped, sir," said Sage calmly, still intent upon the finger-nails of his right hand.
"The mischief is done," said Mr. Llewellyn John. "What is at the back of your mind, Sage?" he demanded.
"I'm working on a hypothesis, sir," was the reply. "I think I'm right, in fact I'm convinced of it; but until I know for certain, I must keep my theories to myself. If you wish it, I'll tell you what I actually know; but I make it a rule never to air theories."
Mr. Llewellyn John smiled. "Well, tell me what you actually know then," he said.
"When Mr. Dene left his office at three minutes past six on Monday evening, he stood for nearly a minute, as if making up his mind in what direction to go. Just as he was about to turn and walk up Regent Street a taxi crawled past him. The driver spoke to him and John Dene got in and drove away."
"Kidnapped!" exclaimed Mr. Llewellyn John.
Malcolm Sage shrugged his shoulders.
"In which direction did he drive?" enquired Mr. Llewellyn John eagerly.
"Along Pall Mall, sir," was the reply. "Colonel Walton told you what happened?"