Martin Watt set Prenderby down in a corner, and Jeanne, still crying quietly, squatted down beside him and took his head in her lap.
Abbershaw darted forward towards their captors.
‘This is absurd,’ he said bitterly. ‘Either let us interview Mr Dawlish downstairs or let him come up to us. It’s most important that we should come to a proper understanding at last.’
One of the men laughed.
‘I’m afraid you don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said in a curiously cultured voice. ‘As a matter of fact I believe Mr Dawlish is coming up to talk to you in a moment or so. But I’m afraid you’ve got a rather absurd view of the situation altogether. You don’t seem to realize the peculiar powers of our chief.’
Wyatt leaned against the oak panelling, his arms folded and his chin upon his breast. Ever since the incident in the brewhouse he had been peculiarly morose and silent. Mr Campion also was unusually quiet, and there was an expression on his face that betrayed his anxiety. Meggie and Anne stood together. They were obviously very frightened, but they did not speak or move. Chris Kennedy fumed with impotent rage, and Martin Watt was inclined to be argumentive.
‘I don’t know what the damn silly game is,’ he said, ‘but whatever it is it’s time we stopped playing. Your confounded “Chief” may be the great Pooh-Bah himself for all I care, but if he thinks he can imprison nine respectable citizens for an indefinite period on the coast of Suffolk without getting himself into serious trouble he’s barmy, that’s all there is to it. What’s going to happen when inquiries start being made?’
The man who had spoken before did not answer, but he smiled, and there was something very unpleasant and terrifying about that smile.
Further remarks from Martin were cut short by steps in the corridor outside and the sudden appearance of Mr Benjamin Dawlish himself, followed by Gideon, pale and stiff from his adventure, but smiling sardonically, his round eyes veiled, and his wicked mouth drawn all over to one side in the ‘O’ which so irritated Abbershaw.
‘Now look here, sir.’ It was Martin Watt who spoke. ‘It’s time you had a straight talk with us. You may be a criminal, but you’re behaving like a lunatic, and –’