'Who did this cruel wicked thing; And why;' 'I do not know. Dorothy, where was Roger yesterday evening;' 'He - he was out. His new pro bono client.' 'The same client he went to see on Thursday; When I left him after we had visited Dr Malton he said he was going to see a pro bono client. He said he had had a letter about the case.' 'Yes, yes.' She gulped. 'It came on Tuesday, from some solicitor. Yes. I remember. A man called Nantwich.' 'Did Roger say where he was writing from;' 'Somewhere by Newgate, I think. You know those jobbing solicitors, half of them haven't even got proper offices. He had heard Roger did free work for poor people. He asked if Roger could meet his client at a tavern in Wych Street on Thursday evening, as the man worked during the day.' 'Did you see the letter;' 'I did not ask to. I thought it odd, asking to meet in a tavern, but Roger was curious about it, and you know how good-natured he is.' She stopped dead and gave a sobbing gasp. For a second, talking, she had forgotten Roger was dead and the horror hit her with renewed force.
