Carrados was really disturbed by the loss although his concern was tempered by the reflection that the coins would inevitably in the end find their way back to the Museum. That their restitution might involve ransom to the extent of several thousand pounds was the least poignant detail of the situation. The one harrowing thought was that the booty might, through stress or ignorance, find its way into the melting-pot. That dreadful contingency, remote but insistent, was enough to affect the appetite of the blind enthusiast.
He was expecting Inspector Beedel, who would be full of his own case, but he could not altogether dismiss the aspects of possibility that Brebner’s communication opened before his mind. He was still concerned with the chances of destruction and a very indifferent companion for Greatorex, who alone sat with him, when Parkinson presented himself. Dinner was over but Carrados had remained rather longer than his custom, smoking his mild Turkish cigarette in silence.
“A lady wishes to see you, sir. She said you would not know her name, but that her business would interest you.”
The form of message was sufficiently unusual to take the attention of both men.
“You don’t know her, of course, Parkinson?” inquired his master.
For just a second the immaculate Parkinson seemed tongue-tied. Then he delivered himself in his most ceremonial strain.
“I regret to say that I cannot claim the advantage, sir,” he replied.
“Better let me tackle her, sir,” suggested Greatorex with easy confidence. “It’s probably a sub.”
The sportive offer was declined by a smile and a shake of the head. Carrados turned to his attendant.
“I shall be in the study, Parkinson. Show her there in three minutes. You stay and have another cigarette, Greatorex. By that time she will either have gone or have interested me.”