Selwood felt himself in a difficult position. Mr. Tertius was out of town for the day, gone to visit an antiquarian friend in Berkshire: Mr. Halfpenny lived away down amongst the Surrey hills. Still, there was Cox-Raythwaite to turn to. But it seemed as if the lady desired an immediate answer.
“You know these men?” he asked.
“One only, who represents both,” answered Mrs. Engledew.
“Why not point him out to the police, and let them deal with them?” suggested Selwood. “They would get his evidence out of him without any question of price!”
“I have given my word,” said Mrs. Engledew. “I—the fact is, I am mixed up in this, quite innocently, of course. And I am sure that no living person knows the truth except these men, and just as sure that they will not tell what they know unless they are paid. The police could not make them speak if they didn’t want to speak. They know very well that they have got the whip-hand of all of us in that respect!”
“Of me, too!” she answered. “Nobody in the world, I’m sure, knows the secret but these men. And it’s important to me personally that they should reveal it. In fact, though I’m not rich, I’ll join Miss Wynne in paying their price, so far as a thousand pounds is concerned. I would pay more, but I really haven’t got the money—I daren’t go beyond a thousand.”
Selwood felt himself impressed by this candid offer.
“Precisely what do they ask—what do they propose?” he asked.
“This. If you agree to pay them ten thousand pounds, you and Professor Cox-Raythwaite are to meet them tonight. They will then tell the true story, and they will further take you and the police to the man, the real murderer,” answered Mrs. Engledew. “It is important that all this should be done tonight.”