“Oh no, sir!” There was no mistaking the man’s genuine surprise at the question.
“I only asked you,” said Mr. Reynolds hastily, “because I feel as if we had met before. But I suppose I made a mistake. By the way, do you know Anna Bauer well?”
Alfred Head waited a moment; he looked instinctively to the Dean for guidance, but the Dean made no sign.
“I know Anna Bauer pretty well,” he said at last. “But she’s more a friend of my wife than of mine. She used sometimes to come and spend the evening with us.”
He was feeling exceedingly uncomfortable. Had Anna mentioned him? He thought not. He hoped not. “What is it exactly you want me to get out of her?” he asked, cringingly.
Mr. Reynolds hesitated. Somehow he did not at all like the man standing before him. Shortly he explained how much the old woman had already admitted; and then, “Perhaps you could ascertain whether she has received any money since the outbreak of war, and if so, by what method. I may tell you in confidence, Mr. Head, there has been a good deal of German money going about in this part of the world. We hold certain clues, but up to the present time we have not been able to trace this money to its source.”
“I think I quite understand what it is you require to know, sir,” said Alfred Head respectfully.
There came a knock at the door. “Mr. Reynolds in there? You are wanted, sir, on the telephone. A London call from Scotland Yard.”
“All right,” he said quietly. “Tell them they must wait a moment. Will you please take Mr. Head to the cell where Anna Bauer is confined?”
Then he hurried off to the telephone, well aware that he might now be about to hear the real solution of the mystery. Some of his best people had been a long time on this Witanbury job.