"Oh!" said Torry, rubbing his plump hands with much satisfaction "you have found out that much. This case is becoming important, for Mr. Jesse Grent is well known, I can tell you. He is very rich, very philanthropic, and two years ago stood for Parliament in the Conservative interest. Now I wonder what took so respectable a man into so disreputable a neighbourhood. In disguise, too. H'm, it looks queer. Mr. Grent is not so good as I thought him." "You may as well speak in the past, Torry; the man is dead." "Dead! Murdered!" said the detective, thoughtfully. "A sad ending for a virtuous man. Tell me all that you learnt from Harcot." "I have told you all," replied Darrel. "The shirt was made for Jesse Grent, of Waybridge, and of Grent and Leighbourne, Bankers, Fleet-street." "Quite so," said Torry, getting on his feet. "Well, where Harcot's information ends Mr. Leighbourne's may begin. Come along, Mr. Darrel, let us pay a visit to Fleet-street." "Very good. Wait till I put on my coat." While Frank was getting ready for the visit Torry employed his time in making notes in his secretive little book. Incidentally he inquired about the Blue Mummy, and on receiving an explanation about the ancient Peruvians and their customs, evinced some disgust at the unsatisfactory result of Darrel's visit to the archæologist. Still, he thought the information worth noting. "Doesn't seem to bear much on the case," he said philosophically. "Still, there is no knowing how important it may be." "I agree with you there," said Frank taking up hat and gloves. "That Blue Mummy, to my mind, symbolises something which may elucidate the whole mystery." "It sounds too romantic to have any practical value," grumbled Torry, as they went out. "It is a far cry from London to Peru." Notwithstanding the diversion of opinion, the subject seemed to be of so little importance that both novelist and detective dropped the discussion. In a few moments they found themselves in a hansom, and rattled quickly eastward until they descended before the unpretentious building, which was one of the most famous private banks in the City of London. The firm of Grent and Leighbourne was nearly one hundred years old, having been established shortly after the French Revolution and was much patronised by county families. It had been founded by Mr. Ebenezer Grent, who had afterwards taken his chief clerk, Leighbourne, into partnership. It was the grandsons of this pair who were now the representatives of the bank, and one of these, Jesse Grent, had been barbarously assassinated in Mortality-lane. As yet, to all appearances, the catastrophe of his death was unknown. "They would have the shutters up else," said Torry who had commented on this fact to his companion. "Depend upon it, Mr. Darrel, you and I are about to startle the firm of Grent and Leighbourne."