"But, dash it all, you must have some idea as to what has become of him?" his questioner insisted. "Young men don't disappear through the windows of the Milan Bar, do they?"
"If you assure us, my lord, that we may rule out any idea of a voluntary disappearance—"
"Voluntary disappearance be damned!" Dredlinton interrupted. "Don't let me hear any more of such rubbish! I can assure you that such a supposition is absolutely out of the question."
"Then in that case, my lord, I may put it to you that Mr. Rees' disappearance is due to the action of no ordinary criminal or blackmailer, but is part of a much more deeply laid scheme."
"Exactly what do you mean?" was the almost fierce demand.
"It appears that Mr. Rees," the inspector went on, speaking with some emphasis, "is connected with an undertaking which during the last few weeks has provoked a wave of anger and disgust throughout the country."
"Are you referring to the British and Imperial Granaries, Limited?" his interlocutor enquired.
"That, I believe, is the name of the company."
Lord Dredlinton's anxiety visibly increased. He was standing underneath the suspended globe of the electric light, his fingers nervously pulling to pieces the cigarette which he had been smoking. There was a look of fear in his weak eyes. Josephine surveyed him thoughtfully. The coward in him had flared up, and there was no room for any other characteristic. Fear was written in his face, trembled in his tone, betrayed itself in his gestures.
"But, dash it all," he expostulated, "there are other directors! I am one myself. Don't you see how serious this all is? If Rees can be spirited away and no one be able to lift up a finger to help him, what about the rest of us?"