I had been chatting to the constable on duty, who, on account of my clerical attire, had not viewed me with any suspicion, when of a sudden Rayner alighted from a taxi and approached me.
"Well?" I asked eagerly, when we were together.
"He gave me the slip, sir," exclaimed my man breathlessly. "He's devilish clever, he is, sir."
"You surely knew that before, Rayner," I said, reproachfully.
"Yes, and I took every precaution. But he did me in the end."
"How?"
"Well, when he left here, he walked as far as Gamage's very leisurely. Then he took a taxi up to Baker Street Station. I followed him, and saw that he took a ticket to Swiss Cottage, where he took another taxi along the Finchley Road, alighting at the end of a rather quiet thoroughfare of superior houses called Arkwright Road. He went into one of them, a new red-brick house, called Merton Lodge."
"You were near when he entered?" I asked.
"Quite. I watched the door open to admit him, but couldn't see who opened it," he replied. "Then I waited for nearly two hours, concealing myself in the area of an unoccupied house close by. The road was so quiet and unfrequented that I dare not show myself. The house seemed smart and well-kept, with a large garden behind."
"No one came out?"