French left the hotel, and, sauntering down to the cab rank, engaged the driver of the leading car in conversation. All the taxis on the rank, the man stated, were the property of one firm, Metropolitan Transport, Ltd. The men returned the runs they had made on their daily journals, and French could, if he chose to apply to the office in Victoria Street, learn all there was to be known about it. French did choose, and a quarter of an hour later was in conversation with the manager. But that gentleman was dubious that he could supply the desired information. It was true they kept a pretty complete record of the runs made and these had to balance with the readings of the meters and with the money handed in, but obviously no note was made of the names or descriptions of the fares. He could find out if a car had gone from the Savoy to Victoria about 7.45 p.m. on the night of the 26th November, but he could not say who might have travelled in it. “If you could let me have a note of the cars which left the hotel between 7.40 and 8.10, irrespective of their destinations, I should be obliged,” French declared. “I could see all the drivers, and possibly some one of them might remember the woman.” “I can give you that,” the manager assented, “but it will take a little time to get out.” He rang for a clerk and gave the necessary instruction, then leaned back in his chair and went on conversationally, “What’s the trouble? Is it indiscreet to ask?” French smiled benevolently. “Certainly not,” he assured the other. “I’ll tell you the whole thing. We believe that the lady I’m after is a crook—a diamond thief. She gave out that she was the wife of a wealthy American steel magnate, but we believe she’s no more that than you are. She left the hotel that night with two trunks and some small luggage, to go to Paris by the 8.20 from Victoria, and has vanished. I’m trying now to trace her.” The manager seemed interested. “Well,” he said, “that’s a useful hint you have given just now. Our drivers record the luggage, that is, outside luggage for which there is a charge. It’ll narrow the thing down a bit if we’ve only to count vehicles with two packages outside.” “That’s a point,” French admitted, “and a good one. But I only know that there were two large trunks besides hand luggage. There might have been more than two packages outside.” “It’s not likely. If there was only one lady she would have taken the hand stuff in with her. Ah, here’s the list.” From the tabulated sheet handed to the manager, it appeared that between the hours of 7.40 and 8.10 on the night in question, no less than twenty-eight taxis had left the Savoy. Of these, twenty had gone to theatres. Of the remaining eight, two had gone to Euston, one to King’s Cross, one to Hampstead, one to Kensington, and three to Victoria. “There you are,” said the manager, pointing to the second to Victoria. “See under extras, ‘Two packages.’ That’s what you want.”