"You can just help me to employ forty minutes," he said, as he got in. "Drive round—anywhere you like—up and down—as long as you put me down at the corner of the Holborn Restaurant at precisely two minutes to ten. Got that?"
The driver comprehended, and began a leisurely journey round certain principal streets and thoroughfares. Two minutes before ten he pulled up at the Holborn-Kingsway corner and gave his fare a grin.
"Done it to the second, sir," he announced, nodding at an adjacent clock.
"Good man!" said Hetherwick, handing out something over the registered fare. Then an idea struck him. "Look here!" he continued confidentially. "I—and another man—may have to follow somebody from here, presently. Just drive down the street here, keep your flag down, and wait—if I want you, I shall be close at hand."
The driver showed his understanding by a nod and a wink and moved a little distance off to the kerbstone. Hetherwick walked slowly down the west side of Kingsway. And precisely as the clock struck ten he saw Lord Morradale come from one direction and enter the formidable-looking and just opened door of the Safe Deposit, and Matherfield appear from the other: looking round again he was aware of the solemn-faced Quigman who sauntered round the corner of Parker Street and came towards him. Hetherwick went on to meet him.
"There you are!" he said, doing a little acting in case any inimical eyes were on him. "To the minute! We'd better appear to be doing a bit of talk, eh? The others have just gone in."
"I saw 'em, sir," replied Quigman, coming to a halt on the kerb, and affecting an interest in anything rather than on what he was really working. "Ah! But the question is—when will they come out? Might be in a few minutes—so to speak. Mightn't be for hours—as it were!"
"You seem to be a melancholy chap," observed Hetherwick.
"Melancholy job!" muttered Quigman. "Watching isn't my line. But Matherfield—he particularly wanted me to be in at this."
"Why?" asked Hetherwick.