“Catch hold, then.”
The Inspector whistled.
“Say, that’s bright work,” he acknowledged. “I believe I could have laid my hands on the man, but it was the jewels that I was afraid of losing.”
“Just so,” Quest remarked. “And now, French, will you be here, please, at midnight with three men, armed.”
“Here?” the Inspector repeated.
Quest nodded.
“Our friend,” he said, “is going to be mad enough to walk into hell, even, when he finds out what he thinks has happened.”
“It wasn’t any of Jimmy’s lot?” the Inspector asked.
Sanford Quest shook his head.
“French,” he said, “keep mum, but it was the elderly family retainer, Macdougal. I felt restless about him. He has lost the girl—he was married to her, by-the-bye—and the jewels. No fear of his slipping away. I shall have him here at the time I told you.”