The Flying Squad by Edgar Wallace

MARK McGill had four banks, and from three of these he drew within a pound of his credit. The fourth, which was the least important of all, he did not touch, knowing that the police were probably watching the banks or that somebody in the office had received instructions to notify Scotland Yard.

At five different points on the outskirts of London that night a powerful motor-car would be waiting for him. He had chosen them from five hiring companies, in different names, and had appointed a rendezvous for each. Through agents at Manchester and Leeds he had received two brand-new passports, and the portrait on each was different--Mark was something of an amateur photographer, and the necessary photographs had been taken at his leisure and in the privacy of his own room.