“Not a soul,” Quest answered.
They found a cab without much difficulty. It was five o’clock when they reached the central police-station. Inspector French happened to be just going off duty. He recognized Quest with a little exclamation.
“Got your man to bring me here,” Quest explained, “so as to get away from the mob.”
“Say, you’ve been in trouble!” the Inspector remarked, leading the way into his room.
“Bit of an explosion, that’s all,” Quest replied. “I shall be all right when you’ve lent me a clothes-brush.”
“The Ashleigh diamonds, eh?” the Inspector asked eagerly.
“I shall have them at nine o’clock this morning,” Sanford Quest promised, “and hand you over the murderer somewhere around midnight.”
The Inspector scratched his chin.
“From what I can hear about the young lady’s friends,” he said, “it’s the murderer they are most anxious to see nabbed.”
“They’ll have him,” Quest promised. “Come round about half-past nine and I’ll hand over the diamonds to start with.”