"That is what we believe, sir," Edwards replied. Seated near him, I saw how keen and shrewd was the expression upon his face. "We have evidence that certain persons visited the flat on the night in question, but these have not yet been identified. The owner of the flat has not yet been found, he having absconded."
"Gone abroad, I suppose?"
"It would appear so, sir."
"And his description has been circulated also?" asked the coroner.
"Yes, a detailed description, together with a recent photograph," was Edwards' reply. Then he added: "We have received this at Scotland Yard, sir—an anonymous communication which may or may not throw considerable light on to the affair," and he handed a letter on blue paper to the coroner, which the latter perused curiously, afterwards passing it over to the foreman of the jury.
"Rather remarkable!" he exclaimed.
Then, when the jury had completed reading the anonymous letter, addressing them, he said:
"It is not for you, gentlemen, to regard that letter in the light of evidence, but, nevertheless, it raises a very curious and mysterious point. The writer, as you will note, is prepared to reveal the truth of the whole affair in return for a monetary reward. It is, of course, a matter to be left entirely at the discretion of the police."
I started at this statement, and gazed across the court—dull and cheerless on that cold winter's afternoon.
Who had written that anonymous letter? Who could it be who was ready to reveal the truth if paid for doing so?