"Distinct lack of enterprise," Kendrick put in. "You should have thrown
yourself on the telephone and asked me if I'd got a few."
"Never thought of it," Jimmy confessed. "Live and learn. First day and
all that sort of thing, you know. I tell you what," he went on, "all the
excitement and that gives you an appetite for your food."
The manager of the restaurant, on his way through the room, recognised
Wingate and came to pay his respects.
"Did you hear about the little trouble over in the Court, Mr. Wingate?"
he enquired.
"No, I haven't heard anything," Wingate replied.
They all leaned a little forward. The manager included them in his
confidence.
"The young gentleman you probably know, Mr. Wingate," he said,--"has the
suite just underneath yours--Mr. Stanley Rees, his name is--disappeared
last night."
"Disappeared?" Lady Amesbury repeated.
"Stanley Rees?" Kendrick exclaimed.
The manager nodded.
"A very pleasant young gentleman," he continued, "wealthy, too. He is a
nephew of Mr. Peter Phipps, Chairman of the Directors of the British and
Imperial Granaries. It seems he dressed for dinner, came down to the bar
to have a cocktail, leaving his coat and hat and scarf up in his room,
and telling his valet that he would return for them in ten minutes. He
hasn't been seen or heard of since.
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