Tonio did not move as they took from him a watch and chain, a pocketbook, some coins, a silk handkerchief and a key.
"Give me the key," Micky said. "The rest is yours."
The older of the two men, Barker--humorously known as Dog--said: "Give us the money."
He gave them each ten pounds in gold sovereigns.
Dog gave him the key. Tied to it with a small piece of thread was a slip of card with the number 11 scrawled on it. It was all Micky needed.
He turned to leave the alley--and saw that they were being watched. A man stood in the street staring at them. Micky's heart raced.
Dog saw him a moment later. He grunted an oath and raised his iron bar as if to strike the man down. Suddenly Micky realized something and grabbed Dog's arm. "No," he said. "That won't be necessary. Look at him."
The watching man had a slack mouth and a empty look in his eyes: he was an idiot.
Dog lowered his weapon. "He'll do us no harm," he said. "He's two sticks short of a bundle."
Micky pushed past him into the street. Looking back, he saw Dog and his companion taking off Tonio's boots.
Micky walked away, hoping he would never see them again.
He turned into the Hotel Russe. To his relief the desk in the little lobby was still unoccupied. He went up the stairs.
The hotel consisted of three houses knocked together, and it took Micky a while to find his way around, but two or three minutes later he let himself into room number 11.
It was a cramped, grimy room stuffed with furniture that had once been pretentious but was now merely shabby. Micky put his hat and cane on a chair and began to search quickly and methodically. In the writing desk he found a copy of the article for The Times, which he took. However, it was not worth much. Tonio either had copies or could rewrite it from memory. But in order to get the article published he would have to produce some kind of evidence, and it was the evidence that Micky was looking for.
In the chest of drawers he found a novel called The Duchess of Sodom which he was tempted to steal, but he decided it was an unnecessary risk. He tipped Tonio's shirts and underwear out of the drawers onto the floor. There was nothing hidden there.
He had not really expected to find it in an obvious place.
He looked behind and underneath the chest, the bed and the wardrobe. He climbed on the table so that he could look on top of the wardrobe: there was nothing there but thick dust.