"The stationer, Calkin, didn't know the name of the man who ordered this paper and gave this address," continued Mapperley. "He knew him well enough as a customer, though, and described him. Baseverie, without a doubt! Calkin says that Baseverie, during the last few months, bought various items of stationery from him—notebooks, duplicating paper, office requisites, and so on. He never knew his name, but as he always carried away his own purchases, and paid spot cash for them, that didn't matter. Calkin supplied him with ten quires of this paper and envelopes to match, a couple of months ago. So—there you are! And there I was—sure at last that Baseverie's mysterious hiding-place was 56, Little Smith Street!"
"Good—good!" said Hetherwick. "What next?"
"Well, I thought we could do with a bit of help," replied Mapperley, smiling. "So I left Calkin—bound to secrecy, of course—and telephoned to Issy Goldmark. Issy is just the sort of chap for games of this sort! Issy came—and he and I took a stroll round. Do you know Little Smith Street?"
"Not I!" answered Hetherwick. "Never heard of it!"
"Oh, well, but it is a street," said Mapperley. "It lies between Great Smith Street and Tufton Street, back o' the Church House—not so far from the Abbey. Bit slummy down those quarters, round about—sort of district that's seen decidedly better days. Still, there's good, solid houses here and there—56 is one of 'em. From outside, it looks the sort of house you can't get into—dark, silent, heavily-curtained windows—sort of place in which you could murder anybody on the quiet. Very substantial front door, painted dark green, with an old-fashioned brass knocker—that sort of house. We took a good look at it."
"See anything?" asked Hetherwick.
"Nothing but what I've told you—lifeless sort o' place," answered Mapperley. "However, having once seen it, I wasn't going to leave it unwatched, so I posted Issy there, in the window of a convenient public-house, and came away to telegraph to you. And there Issy is—either in his pub, or loafing round. And now we ought to go and hear if he's anything to report. And if he hasn't—what then?"
"Just so," said Hetherwick. "That's it—what then? But before we do anything at all, Mapperley, I'd better post you up as to what's happened elsewhere this morning. You see," he continued, when he had finished his story, "if Matherfield's theory is correct, and Baseverie has already gone to Southampton to collect that parcel on its arrival, and if Ambrose has gone with him, we shan't find Baseverie at this address. But—we might inquire if he's known there."
Mapperley reflected a while. Then an idea seemed to suggest itself.
"Pay your bill, sir, and let's get out to a Post Office Directory somewhere," he said. "We'll get the name of the occupier of 56, Little Smith Street."