They went into an office. The Saint’s personal belongings were returned, and a paper was drawn up.
“Your Excellency will have to sign this,” Buono said, with ill-concealed disapproval. “I have to protect myself. And I hope your Excellency knows what he is doing.”
“I accept full responsibility,” Inverest said, taking out his pen.
Simon watched the signature with the feeling of being at an international conference.
“You’re a really big man, sir,” he said, with a sincere respect which came strangely from him. “Not many people would be capable of giving a ready-made devil like me his due, in a situation like this. Certainly not the average small-time cop.”
Buono scowled.
“ Damnant quod non intelligunt,” Inverest said wryly. “It’s part of my job to be some sort of judge of human nature. Besides, I have access to special information. I checked on your record in Washington by telephone while we were waiting for you to come to. I talked to the man who was in charge of the OSS section you worked for during the last war.”
“Hamilton?”
“He gave you quite a remarkable reference.”
Simon lighted a cigarette. He had almost forgotten the throbbing in his head, and his brain was starting to feel normal again.