There was really little doubt in Theydon's mind as to the reason why
he had been followed. He was fuming about it when Bates met him in the
hall of No. 18 with the whisper:

"Them two are waiting here now, sir."

Theydon glanced at his watch. The hour was ten minutes past eleven.

"Sorry I'm late, gentlemen," he said, on entering the sitting room and
finding the detectives seated at his table, seemingly comparing notes,
because the Chief Inspector was talking, while Furneaux, the
diminutive, was glancing at a notebook.

"We have no reason to complain of being kept waiting a few minutes in
such comfortable quarters," said Winter pleasantly.

"O, I fancy I was detained by some zealous assistant of yours," said
Theydon, determined to carry the war into the enemy's territory.

At that Furneaux looked up quickly.

"Will you kindly tell me just what you mean, Mr. Theydon?" said
Winter.

"Why? Is it news to you that a gray limousine car stalked me from
Waterloo to-- to my friend's house, waited there three hours or more,
and has carefully escorted me home? I dislike that sort of thing.
Moreover, it strikes me as stupid. I didn't kill Mrs. Lester. It will
save you and me a good deal of time and worry if you accept that plain