"Can you possibly come along at once?" he asked. "There is a new
development; a most unpleasant one."
He would say no more over the telephone. Therefore I hurried out to
where Coates was waiting, and in ten minutes found myself in one of
those bare, comfortless apartments which characterize the headquarters
of the Metropolitan Police Force.
With his hat off Gatton looked more like a seaman than ever, for he
had short, crisply curly hair and that kind of bull-dog line of
cranium which one associates with members of the senior service. Upon
a chair set in a recess formed by one of the lofty windows a leather
grip rested. It was wet and stained, and had palpably been recovered
but recently from the water. Seeing my glance straying towards this
object at the moment of my entrance, the Inspector nodded.
"Yes," said he, "it has just come in."
"What is it?"
"Well," replied Gatton, sitting upon a corner of the table and folding
his arms, "it is a piece of evidence sufficient to hang the most
innocent man breathing."
He eyed me in a significant manner and I felt my heart beginning to
beat more rapidly.
"May I know the particulars?"
"Certainly. I asked you to come along for the purpose of telling you.
Sir Eric Coverly's refusal to answer the questions put to him had
necessitated his being watched, as you know. I mean to say, it's
sheerly automatic; the Commissioner himself couldn't make an
exception.
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