"Well, things have been happening since I last saw you. I want your opinion. Sit down and listen to this."
Green selected a comfortable arm-chair by the desk, while the superintendent went over his interview with Grell. The chief inspector made no comments until the story was finished. Then he sat in silent thought for a while.
"I've got faith in your idea, sir," he admitted at last. "It's likely to be right as anything. But I am doubtful if we shall be able to get any admission from the Princess."
"One never knows," retorted Foyle. "She's not under arrest yet—only detained. We're entitled to ask
her questions to see if she can clear herself. But our best chance is to take her off her guard. We might go along and wake her out of her sleep now and chance it."
The Princess Petrovska had been allotted a couch in the matron's room of Malchester Row police station, partly to spare her the ignominy of a cell, partly to ensure that she should be under constant supervision. Her sleep was troubled, and she woke with a start when the matron roused her.
"You must dress at once. Some gentlemen are waiting to see you."
"Waiting to see me? Who are they?" she asked. Her nerves were still quivering, but her voice was steady and her face composed.
The matron had received her instructions. "I don't know who they are," she replied, in a tone that did not invite further questioning.