Let's go there at once." He led the whole party out of the station and down the High Street until they came to a narrow lane of little houses which ran towards the Close.
At its entrance a policeman was walking his beat.

Mitchington stopped to exchange a few words with him.
"This man Fladgate," he said, rejoining the others, "lives alone--fifth cottage down here.

He'll be about having his tea; we shall take him by surprise." Presently the group stood around a door at which Mitchington knocked gently, and it was on their grave and watchful faces that a tall, clean-shaven, very solemn-looking man gazed in astonishment as he opened the door, and started back.

He went white to the lips and his hand fell trembling from the latch as Mitchington strode in and the rest crowded behind.
"Now then, Fladgate!" said Mitchington, going straight to the point and watching his man narrowly, while the detective approached him closely on the other side.

"I want you and a word with you at once.