The detective did not trouble to extract the exact meaning from this remark. He understood that Brett would never think of entering the witness-box. That was all he wanted to know.
“Are you quite certain,” he asked, with a last tinge of anxiety in his voice, “that Ooma will be arrested to-day?”
“Quite certain, if we can accomplish that highly desirable task.”
Winter pounded the door of the hansom with his clenched fist
“Then it is done!” he cried. “I’ll truss him up like a fowl. If he tries any tricks I’ll borrow the leg-chains from Stowmarket police station.”
At Liverpool Street they all made a hasty meal. They caught the last train from London and passed two weary hours until Stowmarket was reached.
There on the platform stood the station-master. He approached Brett and whispered:
“A man who came here by the preceding train told me that you and some other gentlemen might possibly follow on. He intended to telegraph to you, but he asked me, in case you turned up, to tell you that the Japanese has gone on foot to Beechcroft, and that Mr. Capella has not arrived.”
“Not arrived!” cried Brett. He turned to Holden. “Can you have been mistaken?”
Holden shook his head. “I saw him with my own eyes,” he asseverated, “and to make sure of his destination I asked the ticket examiner where the gentleman in the first smoker was going to. It was Stowmarket, right enough.”