“No—I’ve an idea that the Secretary, who is the only man that can do anything for you—is out of town. He may be on the Continent. I’m not sure. There was a conference at San Remo last week, and I’ve a dim notion that he went there.”
Dick’s heart almost stood still.
“Is there nobody else at the Home Office who could help?”
“There is the Under Secretary: you’d better see him.”
The Public Prosecutor’s Department was housed in the Home Office building, and Dick went straight away in search of the responsible official. The permanent secretary, to whom he explained the circumstances, shook his head.
“I’m afraid we can do nothing now, Gordon,” he said, “and the Secretary of State is in the country and very ill.”
“Where is the Under Secretary?” asked Dick desperately.
“He’s at San Remo.”
“How far out of town is Mr. Whitby’s house?”
The official considered.