"Nicol Brinn's man did not release him?"
"No, he said he had no key."
"What happened?"
"Stokes wanted to detain the servant, whose name is Hoskins, but I simply wouldn't hear of it. I am a poor man, but I would cheerfully give fifty pounds to know where Nicol Brinn is at this moment."
Innes stood up restlessly and began to drum his fingers upon the table edge. Presently he looked up, and:
"There's a shadow of hope," he said. "Rector—you know Rector?—had been detailed by the chief to cover the activities of Nicol Brinn. He has not reported to me so far to-night."
"You mean that he may be following him?" cried Wessex.
"It is quite possible—following either Nicol Brinn or the woman."
"My God, I hope you're right!—even though it makes the Criminal Investigation Department look a bit silly."
"Then," continued Innes, "there is something else which you should know. I heard to-day from a garage, with which Mr. Harley does business, that he hired a racing car last night. He has often used it before. It met him half-way along Pall Mall at seven o'clock, and he drove away in it in the direction of Trafalgar Square."
"Alone?"
