"You're going in alone?"
"I'm afraid I've got to go in alone," said the Saint sadly. "You see, this is my nurse's afternoon off… See you at a dairy later, old pomegranate."
He tapped Cullis encouragingly in the stomach, climbed into the taxi, and closed the door, leaving the commissioner standing there with a blank look on his face.
He did not drive directly up to the mouth of the alleyway which admitted to the front door of Donnell's fortress. That would have been too blatant even for Simon Templar. Besides, reckless as he might be, he did not believe in suicide, and the long, straight alleyway which he would have to traverse if he approached in the ordinary way would leave even the worst of marksmen very little chance of missing him. And the Saint had no interest in any funeral festivities in which he could not occupy a vertical position.
He drove instead to a tobacconist's shop round the corner, and there he discharged the taxi. He went in and bought a packet of cigarettes, and then he showed his police identity card.
"Do you live in the rooms over here, or do they belong to someone else?"
"No, sir. I live there."
"I'll go right up," said the Saint. "Don't bother to show me the way. You stay right here and carry on business as usual. I shan't come back by this route, so don't wait up late for me."
He went through the shop and up the stairs.
From a window on the landing of the first floor he was able to survey the battleground.