His pale emaciated face seemed to be without triumph or maliciousness: he might have been quite unaware of having set a trap and caught a stumble.
“I hate to see you still worrying,” said the Saint. “Didn’t you hear Braunberg say that we were through with the picture?”
“He didn’t say that,” Groom corrected him. “He said that we were through with Mr Ufferlitz. There are still Mr Ufferlitz’s backers. They’ve got a certain amount of money invested, and they might want to go on. It’d be a different set-up, of course.”
Condor’s bright black eyes were still fixed on the Saint, and Simon knew it, but he was careful not to glance that way. He said to Groom, “Would that mean that you’d still be the director and you might step into Ufferlitz’s job as well?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible,” Groom said vaguely.
“So this murder could be quite a break for you.”
The detective’s eyes had changed their objective. Simon knew that, still without looking.
“What are you getting at?” said Groom.
“I’m just wondering how much this new set-up might be worth to you.”
“Isn’t that rather insulting?”