Here is my cab. Jump in. Driver, I am surprised that a man of your
intelligence should waste your money on a public-house cigar. Throw it
away. Here is a better one. And now, Victoria Street, sharp."

Winter's ears were pricked to receive Brett's intelligence. Beyond a sigh
of professional admiration at the result of Brett's pertinacity with
regard to the omnibuses passing through Whitehall at 10.45, he did not
interrupt until the barrister had ended.

Even then he was silent, so Brett looked at him in surprise,

"Well, Winter, what do you think of it?" he said.

"Think! I wish I had half your luck, Mr. Brett," he answered sadly.

"How now, you green-eyed monster?"

"No. I'm not jealous. You beat me at my own game; I admit it. I would
never have thought of going for the 'buses. I suppose you would have
interviewed the driver and conductor of every vehicle on that route before
you gave in. You didn't trouble about the hansoms. Hailing a cab was a
slow business, and risked subsequent identification. To jump on to a
moving 'bus was just the thing. Yes, there is no denying that you are d--d
smart."

"Winter, your unreasonable jealousy is making you vulgar."

"Wouldn't any man swear, sir? Why did I let such a handful as Mrs. Jiro
slip through my fingers the other day? Clue! Why, it was a perfect bale of
cotton. If I had only followed her instead of that little rat, her
husband, we would now know where the third man lives, and have the
murderer of Sir Alan under our thumb. It is all my fault, though sometimes
I feel inclined to blame the police system--a system that won't even give
us telephones between one station and another. Never mind. Wait till I
tackle the next job for the Yard. I'll show 'em a trick or two."

CHAPTER XXI

CONCERNING CHICKENS, AND MOTIVES

The detective cooled off by the time they reached Brett's flat. On the
dining-room tables they found two telegrams and a Remington type-writer.

The messages were from Holden, Naples.

The first: "Johnson arrived here this morning."

The second: "Johnson's proceedings refer to poorhouse and church
registers."

"Johnson is Capella," explained Winter. "I forgot to tell you we had
arranged that."

Brett surveyed the second telegram so intently that the detective
inquired:

"How do you read that, sir?"

"Capella is securing copies of certificates--marriages, births, or deaths;
perhaps all three. He is also getting hold of living witnesses."