‘Lumme, yes,’ he said. ‘’Alf a minute, I’ll come and ’elp you.’
With his assistance they backed the Riley into the dark yard by the side of ‘The Ritz’ and put out their lights.
‘You get into ’er and sit waiting. Then as soon as they come out on the road you can nip after them – see?’ he said.
Since there was nothing better to do they took his advice and the three sat silent in the car, waiting.
Martin was grinning to himself. The promise of adventure had chased the lazy expression out of his eyes and he appeared alert and interested. Prenderby leant on the steering wheel, his thin pale face utterly expressionless.
Abbershaw alone looked a little perturbed. He had some doubts as to the Riley’s capabilities as far as chasing the disguised Rolls were concerned. He was also a little afraid of Martin’s gun. He realized that they were on a lawless errand since they were acting entirely without proof, and any casualties that might occur would be difficult to explain afterwards even to so obliging a person as Inspector Deadwood.
He was disturbed in his reflections by Martin’s elbow gently prodded into his ribs. He looked up to see a tall burly figure, in a light overcoat and a cap pulled down well on his head, standing in the wedge of light cast through the open doorway of the garage.
‘ “The butler”,’ whispered Prenderby excitedly.
Abbershaw nodded; he too had recognized the man.
Mr Haywhistle’s manner was perfect.