"He will be expecting a call to town then?" asked Inspector Kenly. "If he gets the usual notice he will be taken entirely by surprise on finding why he has been summoned."
"I will wire for him, if you like," said the Permanent Secretary.
"No," said the detective, "to-morrow will do."
"Then I'll have a letter sent to him in the ordinary way," said the Permanent Secretary. "Of course, you understand," he continued, "that we shall take no action in regard to the despatch business beyond dispensing with Captain Marven's services. It would be fatal to our diplomacy if the impression were to get abroad that any of our people were not absolutely trustworthy."
Inspector Kenly looked aghast. "But, what if he is concerned in the other business?" he asked. "Mustn't he pay the penalty?"
"The penalty of twenty-four hours' law in which to get out of England, with someone in charge of him to see that he does not communicate with the rest of the gang," said the Permanent Secretary drily. "Exile will be punishment enough in itself."
Inspector Kenly sighed. He saw his case robbed of one of its most sensational features, and he loved to see sensational headlines to the newspaper reports of the cases in which he was engaged. He left the Foreign Office less elate than he had entered it, but, indefatigable still, he visited each of his subordinates in turn. Neither had any movement to report. Both Lynton Hora and Guy remained in their own abodes. Kenly thought that he had earned a little repose. He got into a cab, drove to the railway station, and took a train to Wimbledon. He fell into a doze before the train started, and in his dreamy state he thought longingly of white sheets which were awaiting him at Woodbine Cottage. For forty-eight hours he had not closed his eyes. He felt thoroughly wearied.
He alighted at his station and stepped out briskly homewards. Then, as he turned into Melpomene Road, he saw in front of him a figure which he recognised. He was so surprised that he pinched himself to assure himself that he was not dreaming.
"My friend Mr. Jessel, by Henry!" he remarked. "I wonder what he is doing down in this quarter again."
He moderated his pace and followed Jessel until the latter, on arriving at the gate of Woodbine Cottage, lifted the latch and entered. By the time the Inspector had reached the gate Cornelius had knocked at the door, and as Kenly raised the latch, Mrs. Inspector Kenly appeared in answer to the summons of her late lodger. But Mrs. Kenly paid no attention to her visitor. Her glance had travelled beyond him and rested on her husband, whom she had not seen for a fortnight. She brushed the astonished Cornelius aside and darted along the little path. The shadow-man felt quite embarrassed by the warmth of the connubial greeting. He called attention to his presence by a little cough. It was successful. Kenly looked over his wife's shoulder and gave a well feigned start of surprise.