As they turned yet once more, a taxi drove quickly up to the door of Duke Mansion, and a young, clean-shaven man jumped out.
Instinctively he addressed himself to Sir Angus Kinross: "About this tenant of ours—Mr. Fernando Apra? To the best of my belief he is a perfectly respectable man. He gave a very good reference, that of a big Paris banker, and with us, at any rate, he was quite frank about his business. He has obtained a gambling concession from this new Portuguese Government, and he came to London to try and raise money for the building of a Casino, and so on. He's an optimistic chap, and his notion is to create a kind of Portuguese Monte Carlo. He told us quite frankly that he didn't intend to keep the office going here for more than six months, or possibly a year, and we arranged that he should be able to surrender his three years' lease—we don't let these rooms under a three years' agreement—on the payment of a rather substantial fine. I think the porter is sure to have a key which will admit you into his room—I understand you want to get into his office?"
And then, at last, Sir Angus answered, rather drily, "The porter cannot admit us to the office, for this Mr. Fernando Apra has had a second lock fitted. It seems he never allowed any one access to the room—unless he happened to be there himself."
"Well, he had plans there—plans of this Concession, and he was very secretive, as are so many foreigners. Still, he impressed both me and my father more favourably than do most foreigners we come across. As a matter of fact, we twice lunched with him at the Berkeley. He is a man with a tremendous flow of good spirits—speaking English very well, though of course with a foreign accent. Has he got into any trouble?" he looked curiously at the gentleman standing before him. He was not aware of Sir Angus Kinross's identity, but he knew that he was from Scotland Yard.
"We shall know more about that when we have forced open the door of his office. I presume you would like to be present?"
And the young man nodded. A grave, uneasy expression came over his face; he wondered if he had said too much of his pleasant client, and that client's private affairs."
CHAPTER XVIII
THEY went up the lift in two parties: Sir Angus Kinross, the house agent, and the two men from Scotland Yard; then Lord St. Amant and Katty Winslow alone.
As they were going up, he said kindly, "Are you sure you are wise in doing this? I fear—I fear the worst, Mrs. Winslow!"