right over to Finchley. As soon as I came in that was given me. All I was told was that there was no answer."
The messenger spoke in a tone of resentment, as if suffering from a grievance. He was a small youth, with crisp black hair and sharp black eyes; combativeness writ large all over him.
"You didn't see who brought this to the office?"
"I did not."
"Where do you come from?"
"Victoria."
"What's your name?"
"George Smith. Though I don't see what that's got to do with you."
"Then that only shows that your range of vision's limited. Because, Mr. George Smith, although there's no answer to this little communication, you're likely to hear of it again. Good-day."
The young gentleman withdrew with something like a sniff of scorn. I read the letter through again. As Hume stood watching me, his curiosity got the upper hand.
"What is it?"
"I was wondering if I should tell you. I don't see why not." I handed him the sheet of paper. He scanned it with eager eyes. "What do you make of it?"
