Willis was not disappointed. Almost immediately he heard the faint call of the tiny buzzer, and then a voice—Archer’s voice, he believed, from what he had heard in the hotel lounge called softly, “Are you there?”
There was an immediate answer. Willis had never heard Benson speak, but he presumed that the reply must be from him.
“Anything to report?” Archer queried.
“No. Everything going on as usual.”
“No strangers poking round and asking questions?”
“And no traces of a visitor while you were away?”
“None.”
“Good. It’s probably a false alarm. Beamish may have been mistaken.”
“I hope so, but he seemed very suspicious of that Scotland Yard man—said he was sure he was out for more than he pretended. He thought he was too easily satisfied with the information he got, and that some of his questions were too foolish to be genuine.”
Inspector Willis sat up sharply. This was a blow to his dignity, and he felt not a little scandalized. But he had no time to consider his feelings. Archer was speaking again.