Anthony stood still a moment and thought. “Everybody here must be watched by you,” he declared. “If anyone tries to leave here you must follow him and get the news through to me at once. You’ll find the destination will be London, though, should the contingency occur. It’s what the racing fraternity describe as a ‘stone-ginger.’ ”
Peter indulged in a burlesque salute. “Very good, Sergeant. I’m your man!”
Anthony shook him by the hand. “I know I can rely on you implicitly, Daventry—that’s why I feel safe in leaving you here—if you weren’t here I couldn’t undertake this journey to town, I don’t mind telling you that. I want to see Goodall, I want to put in a quiet hour or two at the British Museum, and I also desire to have a look at the hotel in Clifford Street. When you see me again I have high hopes that my case will be complete—good-bye, old chap.”
“Shall I come down to the station with you?” asked Peter.
“Better not, I think, in the circumstances—I shall feel easier in my mind to think that you will be here on the spot all the time. What I’m relying on you to prevent is the one thing that might cause my plans to miscarry. I’ll tell you one more thing that will make you realize how important your job is.” He bent forward and whispered in Peter’s ear. “The key to the secret is still in Assynton Lodge—I want it to stay there—get me?”
Peter’s expression grew serious, although he felt more reconciled to staying behind now that he had a job of work to do. He whistled—the situation was a little clearer to him and more attractive of acceptance. He watched Anthony’s car purr down the drive, turn the corner and go over the crest of the hill. And he wondered when he would welcome him back.
Arrived at Paddington, Anthony entered a public telephone box and was connected with Goodall.
“Wasn’t sure that I should catch you, Inspector,” he opened. “I’m speaking from Paddington—I’ve come up myself you see—close on your heels too! What’s that? No—not exactly—what I wanted to know was this. Have you had time to go over to Blanchard’s Hotel yet? To-night? Good man—I’ll come with you—if you don’t mind—I’ll meet you in Clifford Street at nine o’clock. Right‑o—I’ll have a little light refreshment and come round.” Punctually to the time arranged he turned the corner of Clifford Street from New Bond Street, to walk into the arms almost of Detective-Inspector Goodall and a plain clothes officer. The Inspector greeted him cordially.
“Good evening, Mr. Bathurst—I’ve been engaged on following up a clue in connection with these two Stewarts from America—that’s why I’ve left this job round here till now.”
“Any luck, Inspector?”