"There's something I–I must tell you before he comes," he said in a stage whisper. "We… I mean, there's good reason to suspect that Lady Valerie is working with that man Templar against our interests, and unless something is done at once the position may become serious."
"So that's what it is," said Lady Sangore magisterially. "And what's Mr Luker going to do about it? The girl ought to be whipped, that's what I've always said."
Fairweather dropped his voice even lower.
"Last night he — he practically told me he meant to have both of them murdered."
"Good God!" exclaimed General Sangore in a scandalized voice. "But that's ridiculous — absurd! Why, she belongs to one of the best families in England!" He glared about him indignantly. "It's that bounder Templar who's led her astray. He ought to be severely dealt with. Dammit, if I'd ever had him in my regiment…"
He broke off as Luker appeared in the doorway.
Luker stood there for a moment and looked at them one by one. He did not seem in the least disturbed. Perhaps a faint flicker of surprise crossed his face when he saw that Lady Sangore was present, but he made no comment. His dark, well-tailored suit fitted him like a cloth covering squeezed over a marble figure; he looked harder and stonier than ever, as though he would wear it out from the inside. His square rugged features had the insensitive strength of the same stone.
He moved deliberately across the room to his enormous desk, sat down in the swivel chair behind it and faced them with almost taunting expectancy. They looked at each other and avoided his eyes, subdued in spite of themselves into hoping that somebody else would give them a lead.
General Sangore was the first to let himself go.
"What's this story of Fairweather's that you're planning to murder Lady Valerie Woodchester?" he blurted out.