“Drop in this evening and either I or George will tell you,” said Leon.
He put the telephone on the hook very carefully.
“That is a danger I had not foreseen, although it was obviously the only course Oberzohn could take. If he marries her, she cannot be called in evidence against him. May I see the book, George?”
Manfred unlocked the wall safe and brought back a small ledger. Leon Gonsalez turned the pages thoughtfully.
“Dennis—he has done good work for us, hasn’t he?” he asked.
“Yes, he’s a very reliable man. He owes us, amongst other things, his life. Do you remember, his wife was——”
“I remember.” Leon scribbled the address of a man who had proved to be one of the most trustworthy of his agents.
“What are you going to do?” asked Manfred.
“I’ve put Dennis on the doorstep of the Greenwich registrar’s office from nine o’clock in the morning until half-past three in the afternoon, and he will have instructions from me that, the moment he sees Oberzohn walk out of a cab with a lady, he must push him firmly but gently under the wheels of the cab and ask the driver politely to move up a yard.”
Leon in his more extravagantly humorous moods was very often in deadly earnest.