Apparently Inspector Meadows was not averse from leaving at this critical moment. He was, in fact, quite happy to go. Mr. Washington’s views on police intelligence underwent a change for the worse.
“But surely he had better stay?” said the American. “If you’re expecting an attack . . . they are certain to marshal the whole of their forces?”
“Absolutely certain,” said the calm Gonsalez. “Here is the car.”
The Rolls came out from the back of the house at that moment and drew up before the door.
“I don’t like leaving you,” said Meadows, as he swung himself up by the driver’s side and put his bag on the seat.
“Tell the driver to avoid Lawley like the plague,” said Leon. “There’s a tree down, unless the local authorities have removed it—which is very unlikely.”
He waited until the tail lights of the machine had disappeared into the gloom, then he went back to the hall.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the butler, struggling into his greatcoat as he spoke. “Will you be all right—there is nobody left in the house to look after Mr. Lee. I could stay——”
“It was Mr. Lee’s suggestion you should all go,” said Gonsalez briefly. “Just go outside and tell me when the lights of the char-à-banc come into view. I want to speak to Mr. Lee before you go.”
He went into the library and shut the door behind him. The waiting butler heard the murmur of his voice and had some qualms of conscience. The tickets had come from a local agency; he had never dreamt that, with guests in the house, his employer would allow the staff to go in its entirety.