"That description describes Mr. Hollis, then?" asked Starmidge.

"Exactly! I'm sure it's Mr. Hollis--it's him to a T!" answered the clerk. "I recognized it at once."

"Let's get everything in order," said Starmidge, with a glance at Polke.

"To begin with, who is Mr. Hollis?"

"Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor, 59B South Square, Gray's Inn," replied Simmons promptly. "Andwell & Hollis is the name of the firm--but there isn't any Andwell--hasn't been for many a year--he's dead, long since, is Andwell. Mr. Hollis is the only proprietor."

"Don't know him at all," remarked Starmidge. "What's his particular line of practice?"

"Conveyancing," said Simmons.

"Then, naturally, I shouldn't," observed Starmidge. "My acquaintance is chiefly with police-court solicitors. And you say he'd private rooms some where? Where, now?"

"Paper Buildings, Temple," replied the clerk. "He'd a suite of rooms there--he's had 'em for years."

"Bachelor, then?" inquired the detective.

"Yes--he's a bachelor," agreed Simmons.

"You know he hasn't been at his rooms since Sat.u.r.day--you've ascertained that?" continued Starmidge.

"He's never been at his rooms since he left them after breakfast on Sat.u.r.day morning," replied Simmons. "I went there at eleven o'clock Monday--that was yesterday--again at four: twice on Tuesday. I was coming away from the Temple when I got the paper and read about this affair."

"When did you see him last?" asked Starmidge.

"Half-past-twelve Sat.u.r.day. He went out--dressed just as it says in your description. And," concluded the clerk, with a shake of his head which suggested his own inability to understand matters, "he never said a word to me about coming down here."

"Did he say anything to anybody at his rooms about going away?--for the week-end, for instance?" asked the detective. "There'd be somebody there, of course."

"Only a woman who tidied up for him and got his breakfast ready of a morning," said Simmons. "He took all his other meals out. No--he said nothing to her. But he wasn't a week-ender: he very rarely left his rooms except for the office."

"Any of his relations been after him?" inquired Starmidge.

"I don't know anything about his relations--nor friends, either,"

answered the clerk. "Don't even know the address of one of them, or I'd have gone to seek him on Monday--everything's at a standstill. He was a lonely sort of man--I never heard of his relations or friends."

"How long have you been with him, then?" asked the detective. "Some time?"

"Six years," replied Simmons.

"And you've no doubt, from the description in the papers, that the gentleman who came here on Sat.u.r.day last is Mr. Hollis?" asked Starmidge.

The clerk shook his head with an air of conviction.

"None!" he answered. "None whatever!"

Starmidge helped himself to a cigar out of an open box which lay on Polke's table. He lighted it carefully, and smoked for a minute or two in silence. Then he looked at Polke.

"Well, there's a very obvious question to put to Mr. Simmons after all that," he remarked. "Have you any idea," he continued, turning to the clerk, "of any reason that would bring Mr. Hollis to Scarnham?"

Simmons shook his head more vigorously than before.

"Not the ghost of an idea!" he exclaimed.

"There was no business being done with anybody at Scarnham?" asked Starmidge.

"Not in our office!" a.s.serted Simmons. "I'm sure of that. I know all the business that we have in hand. To tell you the truth, gentlemen, though you may think me very ignorant, I never even heard of Scarnham myself until I read the paper this evening."

"Quite excusable," said Starmidge. "I never heard of it myself until Monday. Well--this is all very queer, Mr. Simmons. What does Mr. Polke think? And what's Mr. Polke got to suggest!"

Polke, who had been listening silently, turned to the clerk.

"Did you chance to look at Mr. Hollis's letters--recent letters, I mean--" he asked, "to see if you would find anything inviting him down here?"

"I did," replied Simmons promptly. "I looked through all the letters on his desk and in his drawers yesterday afternoon. I didn't find anything that explained his absence. And when I was at his rooms this evening I looked at some letters on his mantelpiece--nothing there. I tell you, I haven't the least notion as to what could bring him to Scarnham."

"And I suppose none of your fellow-clerks have, either?" asked Polke.

Simmons smiled and glanced at Starmidge.

"We've only myself and another--a junior clerk--and a boy," he said.

"It's not a big practice--only a bit of good conveyancing now and then, and some family business. Mr. Hollis isn't dependent on it--he's private means of his own."

"Aye, just so!" observed Polke. "And I should say, Starmidge, that it was private business brought him down here--if he's the man, as he certainly seems to be. But--whose?"

Starmidge turned again to the clerk.

"You've a good memory, I can see," he said. "Now, did you ever hear Mr.

Hollis mention the name of Horbury?"

"Never!" replied Simmons.

"Did you ever hear him speak of Chestermarke's Bank?" asked Starmidge.

"No--never! Never heard either name in my life until I saw them in the papers," a.s.serted Simmons.

"Who looks after the banking account at Hollis's?" asked the detective.

"I mean, the business account--you know. Not his private one."

"I do," said Simmons. "Always have done since I went there."

"You never saw any cheques paid to those names--or any cheques from them?" inquired Starmidge. "Think, now!"

"No--I'm absolutely sure of it," said the clerk. "Horbury, perhaps, I might not remember, but I should have remembered Chestermarke--it's an uncommon name, that--to me, anyway."

"Well," said Starmidge, after a pause, during which all three looked at each other as men look who have come to a dead stop in the progress of things, "there's one thing very certain, Mr. Simmons. If that was your governor who came down to the Station Hotel here on Sat.u.r.day evening last, he certainly telephoned from there to Chestermarke's Bank as soon as he arrived. And he got a reply from there, and he evidently went out to meet whoever sent it--that sender seeming to be Mr. Horbury, the manager. And so," he concluded, turning to Polke, "what we've got to find out is--what did Hollis come here at all for?"

"We shan't find that out tonight," said Polke, with a yawn.