Joan saw that whatever she did she would have to do quickly. First, she scribbled a hasty note stating that she had come to see Woodman to inquire about her stepfather’s affairs. As he was out, however, her business would keep. Having done this, she cast her eyes quickly round the room. In one corner was a hat and coat cupboard, and in it was hanging a coat of Woodman’s. Very quickly she went through the pockets. The only papers were a number of restaurant bills, evidently stuffed in hastily and forgotten. Joan confiscated them, without much hope that they would be of use. Then, in the bottom of the cupboard, she noticed a hand-bag, twin brother of the one she had been on the point of examining at the hotel. Hastily she opened it. Apparently it was empty; but, feeling round the corners, Joan found a hard object—a coat button—which she quickly transferred to her purse. Then, putting back the bag and closing the cupboard, she returned to the outer room. A talk with the clerk might have its uses. “Mr. Woodman has been looking rather ill just lately,” Joan began. “Do you think he is really unwell?” “I must say, miss, he’s not well. Between you and me, miss, he’s been badly worried.” “About these terrible murders, you mean?” “About them, miss, and about other things. Mr. Woodman wouldn’t like my saying so, but he has had terrible worries.” “Oh, dear, I hope nothing serious.” “Oh, probably not, miss, and you mustn’t say a word about it to any one. I ought not to have said what I did say. But I’m worried too. You’ll be sure not to mention it, miss, won’t you?” “All right, Moorman, don’t you worry.” “But, miss, Mr. Woodman is such a short-tempered gentleman. And you don’t know how angry he’d be if he knew what I have been saying to you.” “You’ll have to look after him, Moorman. See that he doesn’t worry too much. By the way, I suppose I couldn’t catch him now at lunch. Where does he usually lunch?” “Generally at the Blue Boar up Holborn, miss. He generally goes to the Blue Boar every day when he’s in this part.” “If I try there, and don’t find him, where else could I try? Does he ever go to any other restaurant?” “I don’t quite know where he’d be, miss. One day last week he went to the Avenue by Hatton Garden. But I don’t think he’s been there since. He’s never been there but the once to my knowledge.” “When was that, Moorman?” “As it happens, miss, I can tell you. It was the day we heard of those terrible murders. Last Wednesday, miss.” “Thank you, Moorman. I’ll see if he’s at either of those places. If not, I may come back.” But Joan did not go to either of the places of which Moorman had told her. Instead, she went to the nearest telephone box, and ’phoned to Ellery, who was lunching at his club, to come at once and meet her outside Chancery Lane Station. Meanwhile, she went into an A. B. C. and ordered a cup of coffee. As she waited she took out the coat-button and had a good look at it.