She did so. Subsequently she asked me not to refer to the escapade, for
obvious reasons. It was a woman's little secret, Brett, and I was
compelled to keep it."
"Anything else, Winter?" demanded the barrister, wrapped in a cloud of his
own creation.
"That is all, sir, except the way in which I heard of Miss Layton's
meeting with Mr. Hume."
"Not through Fergusson, eh?"
"Not a bit. The old chap is as close as wax. He seems to think that a
Hume-Frazer must die a violent death outside that library window, and if
the cause of the trouble is another Hume-Frazer, it is their own blooming
business, and no other person's. Most extraordinary old chap. Have you met
him?"
"No. Indeed, I am only just beginning to hear the correct details of the
story."
Hume winced, but passed no remark.
"Well, my information came through an anonymous letter."
"You don't say so! How interesting! Have you got it?"
"I brought it with me, for a reason other than that which actuates me now,
I must confess."
He produced a small envelope, frayed at the edges, and closely compressed.
It bore the type-written address, "Police Office, Scotland Yard," and the
postal stamp was "West Strand, January 18, 9 p.m."
Within, a small slip of paper, also typed, gave this message:--
"About Stowmarket. David Hume Frazer
killed cousin.
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