The gentleman mentioned was already there when they arrived. He spoke English fluently and greeted Sir Austin as an old friend and comrade.
“I received your message, Sir Austin,” he announced after the necessary introductions had been made, “and I have arranged that what you asked me will be attended to in every detail. The Nicholas Maes will be in to-night and will dock in the De Ruyter Kade. Your special gentleman will be carefully watched ashore by two of my most reliable men and if he doesn’t go direct to where you are expecting him to go—no matter—my men will never lose sight of him. If he does go straight on as you anticipate that he will—they will follow—to lend a hand—should a hand be wanted.” His fat face wreathed in smiles. It was a great honour to meet and work with the illustrious Sir Austin Kemble of the English police. He always welcomed the opportunity.
The Chief Commissioner nodded in acquiescence. “Good,” he commented. “Just what I want.”
Cuypers went on, flattered at Sir Austin’s commendation. “Your own people who are watching on the Nicholas Maes will join forces with my two men if they deem it necessary. I have arranged all the particulars with regard to that. A signal will be given to prevent any confusion arising. Is there anything else you would desire to know?” He disposed of his Lager with extreme satisfaction and gave an order for four more.
“Only this,” replied Sir Austin, a trifle defensively perhaps. He turned to Anthony. “I am relying on you implicitly, Mr. Bathurst. You have no doubt you say?”
Anthony smiled. “None at all, Sir Austin. Tell Mr. Cuypers what I imagine is going to happen when Lal Singh arrives.”
Sir Austin caressed his upper lip. “Stefanopoulos—Cuypers. Has he been pretty quiet lately? Can you tell me? Because we’re confident that he’s going to be in this job.”
Cuypers’ white teeth flashed into an appreciative smile. “But so! Well, I am not surprised. If it’s precious stones—there is always that possibility. But he is slippery! I cannot tell you how slippery, gentlemen.” He leaned forward to them impressively over the marble-topped table. “Stefanopoulos is one of the three biggest ‘fences’ in Europe. Possibly the biggest of all—excepting perhaps the notorious Adolf Schneitzer. It is only the really big stuff that he touches. The stuff that’s too big for the smaller men. Do you know his—his——?” He paused to collect the word he wanted. “What do you say—his pre—I know—antecedents?” His audience expressed their ignorance. Cuypers continued. “His father was a Greek who was employed for many years in the diamond-cutting industry of this city down in the Zwanenburger Straat. He got into trouble after he married one of our women and took to crime very thoroughly. In time he became an expert. His son—our man—is one of the craftiest devils you could meet. We’ve had him three times and wanted him many more times. But he’s like an eel. He’s cleared some of the biggest diamond robberies of recent years both in Europe and the States. And you think he’s going to occupy your present attention—eh?”
“Let me tell you this,” rejoined Anthony. “We have been waiting for a certain movement to be made by somebody in our country concerning the disposal of a very valuable, precious stone. A very big thing indeed. The bird we are trailing has flown to Amsterdam. Do you think I am very far out if I deduce the probable presence in the affair of M. Stefanopoulos?”
Cuypers shook his head. “Rather would I say, without hesitation, that you have hit the right nail on the head. At any rate,” he shrugged his shoulders expressively, “If your man is here and you are here to watch him wherever he goes—you cannot go very far wrong. Even if the trail as you call it doesn’t lead to Stefanopoulos.”