‘Keep that taxi in sight,’ Tanner ordered as they moved forward. The chase was not a long one—down Piccadilly, across the Circus and into Shaftesbury Avenue. There the quarry turned into a narrow lane and Tanner, leaping out of his taxi, saw the other stop at the stage door of the Follies Theatre. He turned back to his own car. ‘Pick me up when I sign and follow it again,’ he said to his driver, then, becoming absorbed in a bookseller’s window immediately opposite the end of the lane in which the other car stood, he waited. With the corner of his eye he had seen Cosgrove enter the theatre, and after some ten minutes he observed him emerge following a lady whom he handed into his taxi. Rapidly Tanner regained his own vehicle, and as the other swept out of the lane and turned west, his driver took up his former position behind it. Once again the chase was short. Reaching the Strand, the leading car turned into the courtyard of the Savoy. As he stepped out of his taxi Tanner was in time to see his victims entering the great building. He followed quickly to the restaurant, and while they were looking for a table, slipped a couple of pounds into the head waiter’s hand. ‘I am from Scotland Yard,’ he whispered. ‘Put me beside that lady and gentleman like a good fellow.’ The head waiter led him forward and presently he found himself seated at a small table immediately behind Cosgrove. The lady was on Cosgrove’s right and from where he sat the Inspector could see her without appearing to stare. He recognised her immediately as Miss Betty Belcher, one of the most talented and popular actresses in London. She was a woman of about thirty, small, sprightly, and rather inclined to stoutness. Her features were delicate, her complexion creamy, and her eyes large and of the lightest blue. Her lips were just a trifle thin, and in repose wore the suspicion of a pout. But her glory was her hair. It was of a deep rich gold, piled up in great masses above her low forehead. Famous for her play in light, sparkling parts, her vivacity on the stage was unrivalled. But here she was not vivacious. On the contrary, both she and Cosgrove seemed ill at ease. While the waiter was serving them they discoursed on everyday topics, but when he passed on their voices dropped and Tanner could no longer overhear them. It was evident from their expressions they were discussing some serious matter, and Tanner strained his ears to learn its nature. For a time he was unsuccessful, but at last during lulls in the general conversation he caught enough to enlighten him. Disconnectedly and without the context he heard Cosgrove use the words ‘inquest adjourned,’ and ‘detective,’ and later the lady said something very like ‘suspicion aroused’ and once again, unquestionably, the phrase ‘the alibi should hold.’