"To do the dirty work. But they weren't anything."
Essenden drummed his finger tips on the desk in an irritating tattoo.
"You know what I mean," he repeated. "Jill Trelawney's back, then — if you like that better. And so is the Saint."
"Where?"
"I came back from Paris yesterday—"
"And I went to Brixton last night," said Cullis annoyingly. "We do travel about, don't we? But what's that got to do with it?"
"The Saint was in Paris — and Trelawney was with him."
"That's better. You actually saw them?"
"Not exactly—"
Cullis bit the end off a cigar with appalling restraint.