The night of my mysterious tryst—the night of January the fourteenth—was dark, rainy, and unpleasant.
That afternoon I had taken out the sealed letter addressed to "E. P. K." and turned it over thoughtfully in my hand.
I recollected the words of the fugitive. He had said:
"On the night of the fourteenth just at eight o'clock precisely, go to the Piccadilly Tube Station and stand at the first telephone box numbered four, on the Haymarket side, when a lady in black will approach you and ask news of me. In response you will give her this note. But there is a further condition. You may be watched and recognised. Therefore, be extremely careful that you are not followed on that day, and, above all, adopt some effective disguise. Go there dressed as a working man, I would suggest."
Very strange was that request of his. It filled me with eager curiosity. What should I learn from the mysterious woman in black who was to come to me for a message from my fugitive friend.
Had he already contemplated flight when he had addressed the note to her and made the appointment, I wondered.
If so, the crime at Harrington Gardens must have been premeditated.
I recollected, too, those strange, prophetic words which my friend had afterwards uttered, namely:
"I want you to give me your promise, Royle. I ask you to make a solemn vow to me that if any suspicion arises within your mind, that you will believe nothing without absolute and decisive proof. I mean, that you will not misjudge her."
By "her" he had indicated the lady whose initials were "E. P. K."