Doyle had brought the bouquet out of the hotel and given it to Mrs. Gregg. He had warned Constable Moriarty not to allow the people to press against the statue. He was crossing the square in the direction of the police barrack when Dr. O’Grady saw him and went to meet him.
“Doctor,” said Doyle, “will you keep in mind what I was saying to you this minute about the pier? Get a promise of it out of the gentleman.”
“It’s utterly impossible for me,” said Dr. O’Grady, “to do anything if you keep interrupting me every minute. I’m in the middle of an extremely difficult negotiation, and unless I’m allowed a free hand there’ll certainly be no pier.”
“If there’s no pier,” said Doyle angrily, “it’ll be the worse for you. Don’t you forget, doctor, that you owe me a matter of £60, and if I’m at the loss of more money over this statue——”
Constable Moriarty’s voice rang out across the square. He was speaking in very strident tones.
“Will you stand back out of that?” he said. “What business have you there at all? Didn’t I tell you a minute ago that you weren’t to go near the statue?”
Dr. O’Grady and Doyle turned round to see what was happening. A man from the crowd, a well-dressed man, had slipped past Constable Moriarty and reached the statue. He had raised the bottom of the sheet which covered it and was peering at the inscription on the pedestal.
“Doyle,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that’s the American again. That’s Billing.”
“Bedamn!” said Doyle excitedly. “You’re right. It’s him sure enough.”
“Go and seize him. Take him into the hotel. Drag his subscription out of him if you have to use a knife to get it. Whatever happens don’t let him go again.”