When the junta in the vestibule of the Plaza Hotel had promised to remain mute on the topic of de Courtois, he dismissed the matter from his mind as having no further influence on the night's doings.
"Is there any means of recovering my overcoat ?" he asked Steingall, remembering the change of garments when a waiter asked if the gentlemen cared to deposit their hats and coats in the cloak-room.
"Yes," said the detective.

"Just empty the pockets of the coat you are wearing, and I'll send a messenger to the police station-house with a note.

You won't mind if I retain your documents till after the inquest?
One never knows what questions will be asked, and you must remember that an attempt may be made to fasten the crime upon you." Curtis laughed at the absurdity of any such notion, but, for the first time, he examined the contents of the dead man's coat pockets methodically.

The pocket in which the license had reposed was empty.
Its fellow contained a notebook and pencil.

There were also some newspaper cuttings--items of current interest in New York, but devoid of bearing on the crime or its cognate developments.
An elastic band caused the book to open at a definite page, and Steingall, who knew a little of everything, and a great deal of all matters appertaining to his profession, deciphered some shorthand characters which promised enlightenment.