"That oughtn't to be very difficult," was his reply. "Doctors are fairly easy to trace as a rule." He reached across to the table and picked up a half sheet of notepaper. "Has he ever mentioned a particular town, or given you any idea of what hospital he was at?"
"He once told me he had been a ship's surgeon," I said. "It was probably a lie, so I shouldn't attach much importance to it."
The Inspector made a brief note. "One never knows," he observed hopefully. "People sometimes tell the truth by accident. They generally regret it afterwards."
A telephone bell tinkled sharply in the corner of the room, and with a word of excuse he rose from his seat and walked across to the instrument.
"Yes," he said. "I'm Campbell—speaking." There was a pause. "What's that?" Another and longer pause followed. "Oh, very well. Don't let him go. I'll be round almost immediately."
He hung up the receiver and turned back to me.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm afraid I shall have to run away after all. I have got to meet a man who wants to leave for Scotland this afternoon." He folded up the paper he was holding, and put it away carefully in his pocket "I'll get on to this little job at once. You shall hear from me directly there's any news."
"Thanks," I said gratefully; "and, meanwhile, if the wicked should happen to cease from troubling——"
"You'll not only hear from me, but see me."
He gave me a friendly grip, and, collecting his hat and stick, led the way out into the yard. We walked together under the archway and emerged on to the crowded pavement of Fleet Street.