Barndale discerned the nature of the situation, and remained master of himself.
‘I will come with you,’ he said with grave self-possession. ‘I am somehow suspected of having a hand in the attempted murder of my friend. Now, you shall arrest me since you must, but you shall not tie the hands of justice by preventing me from tracing the criminal. The man who has committed this crime is Demetri Agryopoulo, a Greek, attached to the Persian Embassy at Constantinople. You look like a shrewd and wary man,’ Barndale took out his cheque-book and wrote a cheque for one hundred pounds. ‘When you have done with me, cash that cheque and spend every penny of it, if need be, in pursuit of that man. When it is gone come to me for more. When you have caught him, come to me for five hundred pounds. Wait a moment.’
He sat down and wrote in a great, broad hand: ‘I promise to pay to Bearer the sum of Five Hundred Pounds (500L.) on the arrest of Demetri Agryopoulo, attaché to the Persian Embassy at Constantinople__W. Holmes Barn-dale.’ He appended date and place, and handed it to the officer.
‘Very good, sir,’ said he, waving the papers to and fro in the air to dry the ink, and keeping all the while a wary eye on Barndale. ‘I know that my opinion goes for nothing, but if I was a grand jury I should throw out the bill, most likely. We’ll make it as quiet as we can, sir; but there’s two of my men outside, and if there should be any need for force it’ll have to be used, that’s all.’
‘I shall go with you quietly,’ said Barndale. ‘I have two things to impress upon you. Let no apparent evidence in any other direction throw you off the scent on which I have set you. Next: send a smart man to Thames Ditton and let him collect evidence of all the grounds on which I am suspected. Now I am ready.’
Thus torn with grief for his friend, and sorrow for his lover, but moved to no upbraiding of Fate for the cruel trick she had played him, this British gentleman surrendered himself to the emissary of Public Gossip and went away with him.
The officer, having ideas of his own, got into a cab with Barndale and drove straight to Scotland Yard. On the way Barndale set out the evidence in favour of his own theory of the crime and its motive. Inspector Webb’s experience of criminals was large; but he had never known a criminal conduct himself after Barn-dale’s fashion, and was convinced of his innocence, and hotly eager to be in pursuit of the Greek. When the cab drew up in the Yard a second cab drew up behind it, and from it emerged two clean-shaven, quiet-looking men in inconspicuous dresses, whom Barndale had seen in King’s Bench Walk as he had gone that afternoon to his chambers. Scarcely had they alighted when a third cab came up, and from it dashed a mahogany-coloured young man with grey hair, and assisted a lady to alight. Catching sight of Barndale, the lady ran forward and took him by the arm.
‘Oh, Will,’ she said, ‘you have heard this dreadful news?’
‘My poor child!’ he answered.
‘This,’ said Lilian, pointing out her companion, ‘is Dr. Wattiss, who saved James’s life.’