"Hi, boss," said Mr Uniatz plaintively. "We got cut off."
"We didn't," said the Saint tersely. "That was your old friend Claud Eustace Teal you were talking to."
There was a long silence.
"Did I hear what you said, boss?"
"I hope so."
"You mean he hears what I said about de goil?"
"Yes."
"But I ask him is he you and he says he is," complained Hoppy, as if appalled by this revelation of the depths of perfidy to which a human being could sink.
Words rose to Simon's lips — short Anglo-Saxon words, colourful and expressive. But what was the use? Dull thudding noises reminiscent of an enraged crocodile lashing its tail in a wooden crate reached him through the walls. His time was short.
"Never mind," he said. "It's done now. Let me talk to Patricia."