And amongst them, and on the margins of the half-sheet, and scrawled here and there, as if purposelessly and carelessly, was one word in Cotherstone's handwriting, repeated over and over again.

That word was--_Wilchester_.
Stoner knew how that half-sheet of foolscap had come into his possession.

It was a half-sheet which he had found on Cotherstone's desk when he went into the partners' private room to tidy things up on the morning after the murder of Kitely.

It lay there, carelessly tossed aside amongst other papers of clearer meaning, and Stoner, after one glance at it, had carefully folded it, placed it in his pocket, taken it home, and locked it up, to be inspected at leisure.
He had had his reasons, of course, for this abstraction of a paper which rightfully belonged to Cotherstone.

Those reasons were a little difficult to explain to himself in one way; easy enough to explain, in another.