"I knew that, you fool," snarled Teal, "as soon as you told me the name he gave you."
He pushed through into the sitting room. His round red face was redder than ever; and for once his jaws seemed to be unoccupied with the product of the Wrigley Corporation.
The constable followed; and Simon humbly followed the constable.
"Now look at that!" said Teal sourly.
The Saint stood deferentially aside; and the constable stood in his tracks and gaped along the line indicated by Mr. Teal's forefinger. The Saint had not interfered with the improvised dummy in the chair. He had felt that it would have been unkind to deprive the constable of the food for thought with which that mysteriously motionless silhouette must have been able to divert his vigil. "And while you were making a fool of yourself up here," said Teal bitterly, "Jill Trelawney was walking out of the front door and getting clean away. And you call yourself a policeman!"
Simon coughed gently.
"I think," he said diffidently, "that the constable meant well."
Teal turned on him. The detective's heavy-lidded eyes glittered on the dangerous verge of fury.
The Saint smiled.
Slowly, deliberately, Teal's mouth closed upon the word it had been about to release. Slowly Teal's heavy eyelids dropped down.