"You will leave for Spain to-morrow?" asked the chief.
"Yes; by the first train. I shall take Van Ingen with me; he speaks Spanish with ease, while I can only blunder through with a phrase or two. I can get the warrants from the Yard before I leave," he continued, "and the Spanish authorities will give me all the help I need."
"And what of Poltavo?" asked the Chief Commissioner.
T. B. shrugged his shoulders.
"We had a murderer there," he said. "I am satisfied that he killed Moss. Whether he actually stabbed Hyatt, I am not sure. The man had such a perfect organisation in London that it is possible that one of his cutthroat friends served him in the case of that unfortunate young man. Count Poltavo can wait. If we get the others, we shall get him. He has powerful friends; we must move with caution.
"Good-night, sir."
He grasped the proffered hand, and his host ushered him into the silent street.
He took two steps forward, when a man rose apparently from the ground, and two shots rang out. T. B. had drawn his revolver and fired from his hip, and his assailant staggered back cursing as a dark shadow came running from the opposite side of the road to his help.
Then T. B. swayed, his knees bent under him, and he fell back into the Commissioner's arms.
"I'm done," he said, and the third man, hesitating a moment in the roadway, heard the words and slipped his revolver back into his pocket and fled.