Spa. Seaview Maternity Home, Bournemouth.
He read the address again, murmuring to himself: “
“I have it,” she said, unnecessarily. “The contents are quite uncontaminated, as far as I can find on a quick analysis, Mr. Rollison.”
“I didn’t think they’d try to polish off the entire nursing home,” said Rollison, mildly. “The police will be here soon. Would you prefer to tell them what happened, or shall I wait?”
“I would
“Then I won’t embarrass you,” said Rollison. “Will you tell Superintendent Grice that I have the medicine glass?”
She was obviously about to ask him to leave it behind, but he smiled at her from the door and disappeared before she could protest. She sat back and looked at the door, frowning, still greatly upset, and she was sitting like that when the police arrived.
In his taxi Rollison took out the glass, sniffed the contents but recognized no particular smell. He put a two- shilling piece into the glass, so that it lodged itself half-way down, like a stopper, then carefully wrapped it up again in the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket, lodged against his wallet so that it could not move on its side. Grice would not like him taking the glass away, and would express himself colourfully if the dregs of the dose were lost.
The taxi turned off Bayswater Road into Queen’s Road, and, a little way along, pulled up sharply as the driver saw the nameplate on the wall of a narrow turning—
CHAPTER FIVE
“CAN’T get by the house, mister,” said the taxi driver, “I’LL have to drop you further back.”
“As far back as you can, please,” said Rollison. “And wait, will you?”
The cab pulled up. As Rollison climbed out a sombre figure, dressed in black, appeared in the doorway of one of the houses. He did not venture far into the
“Where lone trails meet, eh, Jolly?”
“They appear to, sir.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A little more than an hour.”
“Where’s the taxi?”
“Waiting for me in the main road, sir. I thought it best to make sure that I had some means of transport available.”
“Quite right,” said Rollison. “What else?”
“There is nothing of great moment,” said Jolly. “The driver of the car is a good-looking young man of quite pleasant aspect. After leaving Gresham Terrace, Miss Barrington-Ley secured a taxi. I expected that the young man would follow her, but he did not. He went to a popular restaurant and had lunch, and I thought it wise to do the same and thus to keep him under my eye. He gave me no reason for thinking that he knew that he was being followed, sir, and I am sure that I did not attract his attention. From the restaurant he went to an office in the Strand—I have the address, and I was able to find out which office in the building he visited. It was a firm of accountants, sir, next door to a firm of solicitors of the same name.”
“I see,” said Rollison. “And then?”
“He was there for some time, but I thought it might be wise to wait and follow him to his next destination,” said Jolly. “He left the office a little after four-forty-five, and came straight here. It is now nearly six o’clock. I am afraid” — Jolly looked apologetic — “that I have not yet discovered which particular flatlet that young man has visited.”
“He might live there,” Rollison said.
“I think it unlikely, sir. He spent some time looking at the board on to which the cards of the residents are pinned. After he had done that, he first left his car outside, sir, and I followed on foot—he went out and brought the car into the Court. On that occasion he gave me the impression of being very pleased with himself.”
“So he’s found his quarry,” mused Rollison.
“Presumably. May I inquire what brought you here?”
“Someone has no love for the mysterious lady,” said Rollison, “and the someone may be Nurse Phyllis Jane Armitage, of Flatlet 6a. Stay here, and if the man comes out alone, follow him.”
“Supposing the lady comes out alone, sir?”
