“And very little petrol . . . humph!” Pointer picked up the 'phone mouthpiece and called a number, adding a code word swiftly.
“'Ello! Monsieur Guillaume there, by any chance, still? Ah, Monsieur Garnier! You will do perfectly. No, it is nothing to do with my 'phone from Tarascon this morning. That matter is all arranged, thanks to your colleague, but I would like to know whether Madame Erskine owns a launch or a yacht? No? Then, will you kindly have inquiries made at once as to whether one has been hired to-day, late in the afternoon, by anyone at the villa. It is most urgent.”
Pointer walked up and down, saying nothing. Carter, very pale, stared hard at him, but did not offer to speak. Watts was lost in speculation. The Chief Inspector leapt to the instrument at the bell's first premonitory tinkle.
“Yes? Ah, good! Madame Clark hired it, you say. One of the swiftest steam launches here. By 'phone about six, to await her at the harbour steps by seven? Five people in all? Three ladies—one young—and two men. That is the party. Oh, thank you, we should indeed be most grateful. There are three of us. We will be with you in a little minute, and if your surgeon could accompany us he might come in useful. I do not know what we shall find.”
Carter blanched as he heard him.
Pointer turned to the other two.
“Your car, Carter! Miss West is on a launch which we shall be able to overhaul on a still faster police boat which the Préfecture puts at our disposal. We're in plenty of time.” But Pointer ran down the steps and leapt up beside the driver's seat as though the margin of safety were not so wide as he had said.
A direction or two, a turn of Carter's wheel, and they whirled up to a quiet part of the old town's harbour where lay a wicked looking little craft. A gendarme took charge of the car, they stepped aboard, and off the launch flew like an arrow through the quiet blue evening.
“So Mrs. Clark arranged this party, did she?” Pointer said with a hard stare through the lovely lilac shades of the early evening. “I fancy it will be her last pleasure jaunt for some time.”
“What is it you're afraid of, in Heaven's name?” Carter asked, as so often before; but Pointer only shook his head.