"Did you see a lady, and then a gentleman, come down here, from St. Mary's Terrace, just now?" he asked. "Tall people, both of them."
The man rested on his broom, half turned, and pointed towards Paddington Bridge.
"I see 'em, guv'nor," he answered. "Tall lady, carrying a little portmantle. Gone along over the bridge yonder. Paddington station way. And, after her, Matherfield."
"Oh, you know him, do you?" exclaimed Hetherwick, in surprise.
The man jerked a thumb in the direction of the adjacent police station.
"Used to be a sergeant here, did Matherfield," he replied. "I knows him, right enough! Once run me in—me an' a mate o' mine—for bein' a bit festive like. Five bob and costs that was. But I don't bear him no grudge, not me! Thank 'ee, guv'nor."
Hetherwick left another tip behind him and walked slowly off towards Edgware Road. The Tube trains were just beginning to run, and he caught a south-bound one and went down to Charing Cross and thence to the Temple. And at six o'clock he tumbled into bed, and slept soundly until, four hours later, he heard Mapperley moving about in the adjoining room.
Mapperley, whose job at Hetherwick's was a good deal of a sinecure, was leisurely reading the news when his master entered. He laid the paper aside, and gave Hetherwick a knowing glance.
"Got some more information last night," he said. "About that chap I tracked the other day."
"How did you get it?" asked Hetherwick.