"I don't want to beat about the bush," replied Patricia, her manner brisk and efficient. "It has come to our knowledge at Scotland Yard that the Z-Man is active again…"
"The Z-Man!" breathed the other girl, turning deathly pale.
"Oh yes, we know all about him, and we think it would be wise to transfer you to a place of safety," continued Patricia imperturbably. "I have an official car waiting outside. Miss Beatrice Avery, whom you probably know, is in the car already. You will also be accompanied, I hope, by Miss Sheila Ireland."
The startled actress opened her eyes even wider.
"But where are we going? I've got a dinner engagement—"
"Ireland," answered Patricia, without batting an eyelid. "We have everything arranged with the Free State authorities. Ireland is within a comparatively few hours and yet sufficiently remote for our purpose. You see, Miss Cromwell, it is of vital importance that Scotland Yard should be left with a clear field. While this organization is being cleaned up you are in grave danger."
Irene Cromwell took less than a minute to make up her mind. In fact she regarded Patricia's suggestion as a police order; and so thoroughly had the urgency of the matter impressed itself on her mind that she was ready, with two packed suitcases, within the incredible space of twenty minutes.
Beatrice Avery had been given her cue, and she kept up the deception as the limousine rolled smoothly off towards Kensington. But very little was said. Irene Cromwell sat back in her corner, huddled in her furs, apparently fascinated by the very official-looking cap which reposed on the unprepossessing head of Mr Uniatz.
Exactly the same procedure was followed in Sheila Ireland's dainty home — and again Patricia got away with it. The blonde Venus of Summit Pictures was successfully lured out into the waiting car; and any doubts she might have entertained were dispelled when she saw Beatrice Avery and Irene Cromwell. An impression was left behind that Miss Ireland was bound for a remote spot in the Welsh mountains.
At Patricia's request further discussion of the subject that was uppermost in all their minds was tacitly postponed. The limousine now started off in real earnest, leaving London behind and speeding through the night in the direction of Kingston. Their actual destination was Weybridge, less than twenty miles to the southwest.