"My bank. I always give Mrs. Killenhall a check for the weekly bills every Friday, and as we were coming through the City to get here, she said, just before we left home, that I might as well give her the check and she could call and cash it as we drove back. And," concluded Miss Wickham, "the bank closes at four." Viner began to be suspicious. "Look here!" he said suddenly. "Don't think me inquisitive, but what was the amount of the check you gave her?" "There was no amount stated," replied Miss Wickham. "I always give her a blank check--signed, of course--and she fills in the amount herself. It varies according to what she wants." Without expressing any opinion on the wisdom of handing checks to other people on this plan, Viner turned to Miss Wickham with a further question. "Do you know anything about Mrs. Killenhall's movements this morning?" he asked. "Did she go out anywhere?" "Yes," replied Miss Wickham. "She went to the police-court, to hear the proceedings against Mr. Hyde. She wanted me to go, but I wouldn't--I dislike that sort of thing. She was there all the morning." "So was I," said Viner. "I didn't see her. But the place was crowded." "And she was veiled," remarked Miss Wickham. "Naturally, she didn't want people to see her in a place like that." "Do you know whether she went to the previous sitting? I mean when Hyde was brought up the first time?" inquired Viner. "I remember there were some veiled ladies there--and at the coroner's inquest, too." "She was at the coroner's inquest, I know," replied Miss Wickham. "I don't know about the other time." Viner made no remark, and Miss Wickham suddenly lowered her voice and bent nearer to him. "Why?" she asked. "Are you--suspecting Mrs. Killenhall of anything, Mr. Viner?" Viner gave her a quick glance. "Are you?" he said in low tones. Miss Wickham waved a hand towards the anteroom. "Well!" she whispered. "What's it look like? She brings me down here in a hurry, on a message which I myself never heard nor saw delivered in any way; after I get here, you are fetched--and here we are! And--where is she?" "And--possibly a much more pertinent question," said Viner, "where is this Dr. Martincole? Look here: this is a well-furnished room; those pictures are good; there are many valuable things here; yet the man who practises here is only in attendance for an hour or two in an afternoon, and once a week for rather longer in the evening. He can't earn much here; certainly an East End doctor could not afford to buy things like this or that. Do you know what I think? I think this man is some West End man, who for purposes of his own has this place down here--a man who probably lives a double life, and may possibly be mixed up in some nefarious practices. And so I propose, as we've waited long enough, to get out of it, and I'm going to smash that window and yell as loud as I can--somebody will hear it!"