Yes, that was the name, Tarling.
It happened to be a new telephone directory, and by chance Tarling's name, although a new subscriber, had been included.

In a few seconds he was talking to the detective.
He hung up the receiver and came out of the little booth, and the shopman, who had heard his harsh, loud voice, looked at him suspiciously; but Sam Stay was indifferent to the suspicions of men.

He half ran, half walked back to where his cab was standing, leaped into the seat, and again drove the machine forward.
To Highgate Cemetery! That was the idea.

The gates would be closed, but he could do something.

Perhaps he would kill her first and then get her over the wall afterwards.