“What was the gentleman like?”
Phillips gave a brief and not inaccurate description.
“That is your man, I think, Herr Fluen?”
The third of the party was bearded and plump; he wore a Derby hat with evening dress.
“That is Gurther,” he nodded. “It will be a great pleasure to meet him. For eight months the Embassy has been striving for his extradition. But our people at home . . . !”
He shrugged his shoulders. All properly constituted officials behave in such a manner when they talk of governments.
“The lady now”—Inspector Meadows was patently worried—“she was faint, you say. Had she drunk anything?”
“Orangeade—there is the glass. She said there was something nasty in the straws. These.”
Phillips handed them to the detective. He wetted his finger from them, touched his tongue and spat out quickly.
“Yes,” he said, and went out by the little door.