IT WAS SIGNED "H."
If Dr. Jansen could have looked under those shaggy eyebrows he would have seen Mr. Reeder's eyes light up.
"May I keep this letter?" he asked.
The big man shrugged.
"Why, surely. I am glad that you should, because this gentleman seems to be in trouble with the police, and I do not want to be mixed up in it, except that I would like to get my thousand pounds. The prescription I will advertise because it is humanity."
Dr. Jansen took his departure after giving his address, which was a small flat in Pimlico. He was hardly out of the building before Mr. Reeder had verified his name and his qualifications from a work of reference. The letter he carried to Scotland Yard and to the Chief Constable.
"Smell it," he said.
The Chief sniffed.
"Camphor—and not exactly camphor
