CHAPTER VIII.
Mr.Taynton, according to the intention he had expressed, sent round early next morning (the day of the week being Saturday) to his partner's flat, and finding that he was not there, and that no word of any kind had been received from him, went, as he felt himself now bound to do, to the police office, stated what had brought him there, and gave them all information which it was in his power to give.
It was brief enough; his partner had gone up to town on Tuesday last, and, had he followed his plans should have returned to Brighton by Thursday evening, since he had made an appointment to come to Mr.
Taynton's house at nine thirty that night.

It had been ascertained too, by--Mr.Taynton hesitated a moment--by Mr.Morris Assheton in London, that he had left his flat in St.James's Court on Thursday afternoon, to go, presumably, to catch the train back to Brighton.

He had also left orders that all letters should be forwarded to him at his Brighton address.
Superintendent Figgis, to whom Mr.Taynton made his statement, was in manner slow, stout, and bored, and looked in every way utterly unfitted to find clues to the least mysterious occurrences, unearth crime or run down the criminal.

He seemed quite incapable of running down anything, and Mr.Taynton had to repeat everything he said in order to be sure that Mr.Figgis got his notes, which he made in a large round hand, with laborious distinctness, correctly written.

Having finished them the Superintendent stared at them mournfully for a little while, and asked Mr.Taynton if he had anything more to add.
"I think that is all," said the lawyer.