He hailed a passing taxi-cab and drove to New Scotland Yard, where he was presently closeted with a high personage in deep and serious consultation, the result of which was that by twelve o'clock, Starmidge and a fellow-officer, one Easleby, in whom he had great confidence, were spinning away towards the beech-clad hills of Buckinghamshire, and discussing the features and probabilities of the queer business which took them there. Before two, they were in the pleasant valley which lies between Chenies and Chesham and pulling up at the door of a fine old Jacobean house, which, set in the midst of delightful lawns and gardens, looked down on the windings of the river Chess. And practical as both men were, and well experienced in their profession, it struck both as strange that they should come to such a quiet and innocent-looking place to seek some explanation of a mystery which had surely some connection with crime. The two detectives were immediately shown into a morning room in which sat a little, middle-aged lady in a widow's cap and weeds, who looked at her visitors half-timidly, half-welcomingly. She sat by a small table on which lay a heap of newspapers, and Starmidge's sharp eyes saw at once that she had been reading the published details of the Scarnham affair. "You have no doubt been informed by your bankers that we were coming, ma'am?" began Starmidge, when he and Easleby had seated themselves near Mrs. Lester. "The manager there was good enough to say he'd telephone you." Mrs. Lester, who had been curiously inspecting her callers and appeared somewhat relieved to find that they were quite ordinary-looking beings, entirely unlike her own preconceived notions of detectives, bowed her head. "Yes," she answered, "my bankers telephoned that an officer from Scotland Yard would call on me this morning, and that I was to speak freely to him, and in confidence, but--I really don't quite know what it is that I'm to talk to you about, though I suppose I can guess." "This, ma'am," answered Starmidge, bending towards the pile of newspapers and tapping a staring head-line with his finger. "I see you've been reading it up. I have been in charge of this affair since Monday last, and I came up to town last night about it--specially. You will have read in this morning's paper that the body of Mr. Frederick Hollis was found at Scarnham yesterday?" "Yes," said Mrs. Lester, with a sigh. "I have read of that. Of course, I knew Mr. Hollis--he was an old friend of my husband. I saw him last week. But--what took Mr. Hollis down to Scarnham? I have been in the habit of seeing Mr. Hollis constantly--regularly--and I never even heard him mention Scarnham, nor any person living at Scarnham. There are many persons mentioned in these newspaper accounts," continued Mrs. Lester, "in connection with this affair whose names I never heard before--yet they are mentioned as if Mr. Hollis had something to do with them. Why did he go there?"