Stone frowned, and seemed hesitant.
"You mean," I said, "Dr. Lawrence Antrim."
"I think so. Mind," said Stone aggressively, and pointed his cigar, "at the moment it's none of my business. How many times have I got to tell you I'm on a holiday? I'll cable home, naturally, and let 'em track it down through the proper channels. Besides, it wasn't to find the girl or her husband that I was supposed to get in touch with Merrivale.
"The old boy died on the evening of the same day I went up to see him. It wasn't very spectacular," complained Stone, who seemed somewhat annoyed and disappointed at this. He chewed his cigar. "That is, he didn't give a big long speech or make a flourish or talk about the old days — I admit I was interested to hear something about it. He just took a couple of quick breaths, and looked as though he were sore about something, and died.
"Naturally, with all that stuff in the trunk, I thought I'd better get in touch with Washington. My God, were they interested! I learned afterwards that this L. was just about as big a name, in his own way, as the world's ever known. And there he was, folded up and ordinary like anybody else…. Here's the point, though. At Washington they told me it was believed L. was in England. They thought it would relieve Whitehall a whole lot if they learned L. was safely six feet under the earth, and they could call off their dogs. I don't know whether you know it, but no official cognizance between countries is taken of spies in peace-time. There's a polite pretence that they don't exist. However — since I was coming to England anyway — the Secretary thought it might be a good idea if I slid in quietly, and spoke to Merrivale, and set Whitehall's mind easy. You know what happened. That lunatic in the Panama hat…"
About us now was the bustle of Exeter station. A handtruck, laden with cigarettes and magazines, rolled past on the platform. The train breathed noisily. As yet there was no sign of discovery. And, even while I peered out of the window, I was more flustered by this new discovery than by any possibility of being caught.
It provided only one answer: the answer to Antrim's curious conduct that night, and the reason why he had become so frightened and suspicious of me when I — a friend of H.M. - was accused by Stone of coming to Torquay under a "false name." In other words, how much did Antrim know? Did he know, or suspect, that his wife was the daughter of a tolerably well-known figure on the shady side of international politics? Did he in some fashion think that the British government was interested in him?
Evelyn shook her head slowly.
"I say, Ken," she protested, "this makes even less sense than it did a while ago. What becomes of all the 'orrid plots and alarums? With L. out of the picture, how does Hogenauer fit into it? Hogenauer says L. is in England, and offers to tell who he is: well, Hogenauer lies. Why? Furthermore, where's the motive for Hogenauer's murder? If L. were alive, you might think he had killed Hogenauer to shut his mouth. But L. was dead and buried over a month before Hogenauer even made his proposal… I mean, of course, that is…"
"You mean," Stone said grimly, "if I'm telling the truth."