"No good, sir," he said. "Captain Arden's been out since eleven this morning and his man doesn't know where he is." "Hell!" snarled the Assistant Commissioner. "You'd better come along, then." Bill Kennedy led the way to the waiting taxi, Teal following obediently, and it was not until they were turning out into the Embankment that the Commissioner explained. "The Triangle's on the war-path again," he said. "Marker was shot this afternoon as he was leaving his house." "Dead?" drawled the callous Teal, and Kennedy shrugged. "The message didn't say. Did Captain Arden give you any idea what he was doing this afternoon?" "He said he was going to commit another felony to-day. I wonder if he is the Triangle?" suggested Mr. Teal lusciously. His inspiration being received with scorn, he maintained a dignified silence until the taxi drew up in Queen's Gate, where the Home Secretary lived. The usual crowd was gaping about the entrance, only restrained from closer investigation by the presence of two burly constables. The two detectives pushed their way through the mob and were instantly admitted. The doctor who had been summoned was already preparing for an impromptu operation, and was inclined to be brusque. "The bullet glanced off a rib and tore up his right lung," he said shortly. "I may be able to save his life, but it's very chancy." The most coherent narrative was supplied by the chauffeur, who had been actually holding the door for his master at the time of the shooting. "There were three cars close together--a Navarre limousine, a Carillon cabriolet, and a Hirondel sports. I couldn't be sure which it was, as I had my back to the street and didn't turn until I heard the report. I should say it was either the Navarre or the Hirondel--they were nearest when I looked round." "Did you get any numbers?" asked Kennedy. "No. They all put on speed immediately the shot was fired, and I was too busy attending to my master to look at them closely. Oh--I remember the Hirondel was very battered--looked as if it had been in an air-raid. ZY-something. There was a '2' in it, anyway." "ZY 28822?" murmured Teal, and the man nodded. "Something like that. It was the last car of the three, and they all raced into Cromwell Road, so that's the only number I got a glimpse of." Kennedy dismissed the man and glanced at Teal. "Captain Arden on duty," he said. "That looks like a thin time for Morini. It was the gentle Gat, of course." "How're you going to prove it?" Teal wanted to know. "Your business!" Bill Kennedy took his cigar-case from his pocket and offered it. "This isn't my case at all, really, only Marker's so deuced important." "What about Hannassay?" The Assistant Commissioner carefully charred the end of his cigar and then placed it in his mouth and lighted it meticulously.