It looked as if the manager was right. The first of the three vehicles to Victoria had no outside luggage, and the third was for a party of five. No. 2 had left at 7.55 with one passenger and two outside packages. “It’s promising enough,” French admitted. “If you could tell me where to find the driver of that car I should be much obliged.” “John Straker.” The manager picked up his desk telephone. “Where is John Straker at present?” he called, and in a moment to French, “He’s out at work. He’s on the stand beside the Savoy, and if you go there now, and don’t mind waiting, you’ll see him. I’ll give you a note to him. It will make him more ready to talk. He’s a peculiar-looking man, cleanshaven, with a thin white face and hooked nose and very black eyes; you’ll recognise him at once. Better take his time-book also. It may bring the trip back to his memory.” French, having thanked the manager, returned to the cab rank. As he walked down it glancing at the drivers, a taxi drove up and took its place at the tail of the line. Its driver answered the description, and when he had switched off his engine and seemed at liberty, French accosted him and explained his business. For some seconds the man pondered, scratching his head and turning over the leaves of his time-book. At last he looked at French. “I remember the trip,” he said. “It’s a strange thing, but that was the only trip I made to Victoria that week. It’s a place we’re at pretty often, as you’ll understand. But I remember going that night. It was with a lady, and she had two big boxes; I remember them because they were rather big for the space on the car. But I got them fixed up all right.” “Where did you go to?” “I believe the main line departure side of Victoria, though I’m not just certain.” “Good!” said French heartily. “Now, could you describe the lady?” This, however, was beyond the driver’s powers. He had not noticed her specially, nor could he describe the porter who had taken the luggage. But French had not expected that, indeed, he was surprised and delighted at having got so much. The rest of that day and most of the next he spent at Victoria, interviewing porters, inspectors, ticket collectors, and any other officials he could find, who might by chance have seen the quarry. But nowhere had he any luck. The unknown remained unknown. As he continued turning the matter over in his mind, a further possible clue in connection with the trunks occurred to him. They were large; they could not be taken in the carriage. It was nearly certain, therefore, that they must have been registered through. Were there records, he wondered, of such registration? He went to the registration office and saw the clerk in charge. Yes, there were records; they were kept for a while and then destroyed. He could with a little trouble turn up those for the Newhaven boat train on the 26th November, and he would certainly do so to oblige the Inspector.