"My house is nearer," said Viner. "Come--we shall be perfectly quiet in my study, and there will be nothing to interrupt us. Let us go now." A police official let them out by a side-door, and Viner and Mr. Pawle led the way through some side-streets to Markendale Square, the others coming behind, conversing eagerly about the events of the morning. Mr. Pawle, on his part, was full of excitement. "If we can only trace that woman, Viner!" he exclaimed. "That's the next thing! Get hold of her, whoever she is, and then--ah, we shall be in sight of the finishing-part." "What about tracing the whole lot through the check he has given?" suggested Viner. "Wouldn't that be a good way?" "We should have to wait nearly a month," answered Mr. Pawle. "And even then it would be difficult--simple though it seems at first sight. There are folk who deal in post-dated checks, remember! This may have been dealt with already--aye, and that diamond too; and the man who has got the proceeds may already be many a mile away. Deep, cunning folk they are who have been in this, Viner. And now--speed is the thing!" Viner led his guests into his library, and as he placed chairs for them round a centre table, an idea struck him. "I have a suggestion to make," he said with a shy smile at the legal men. "My aunt, Miss Penkridge, who lives with me, is an unusually sharp, shrewd woman. She has taken vast interest in this affair, and I have kept her posted up in all its details. She was in court just now and heard Mr. Cave's story. If no one has any objection, I should like her to be present at our deliberations--as a mysterious woman has entered into the case, Miss Penkridge may be able to suggest something." "Excellent idea!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "A shrewd woman is worth her weight in gold! By all means bring Miss Penkridge in--she may, as you say, make some suggestion." Miss Penkridge, fetched into the room and duly introduced, lost no time in making a suggestion of an eminently practical nature--that as all these gentlemen had been cooped up in that stuffy police-court for two or three hours, they would be none the worse for a glass of wine, and she immediately disappeared, jingling a bunch of keys, to reappear a few minutes later in charge of the parlour-maid carrying decanters and glasses. "A very comfortable suggestion, that, ma'am," observed Mr. Carless, bowing to his hostess over a glass of old sherry. "Your intuition does you credit! But now, gentlemen, and Miss Penkridge, straight to business! Mr. Cave, the first question I want to put to you is this: on what date did you receive the letter which you exhibited in court this morning?" Mr. Cave produced a small pocket diary and turned over its pages. "I can tell you that," he answered. "I made a note of it at the time. It was--yes, here we are--on the twenty-first of November." "And you received these papers, I think you said, two days later?" "Yes--on the twenty-third. Here is the entry."