“Why should I let you go now you are here?” he said. “Tell me that. You are in my power and I could carry you and that fat fool who came with you to the ends of the earth. What could you say?”
“I am sure it would be an enjoyable trip,” I replied.
“Oh, it would be all right. I would see to that. I shouldn’t ill-use you—only keep you locked up until we were well away.”
“Yes,” I remarked, “it sounds all right. But in the first place, you can’t move until your missing machinery comes to hand and—”
“What the devil do you know about my missing machinery?” he roared. “But, of course, I was only talking off the top,” he went on. “I am doing nothing desperate. But, now, man to man, what is the game? Put your cards on the table, face up.”
“I’ll see.”
“You mean you’re not playing your own hand. Well, it’s a one-sided bargain, but I’m willing. Listen carefully and then do just as you like, with this certainty in your mind that what you try to hide I shall nevertheless discover. I need only remind you of what I have already told you—Miss Clevedon’s wire and Tulmin’s hurried departure, not to mention the missing machinery. You may deny as much as you like but you know full well it is all true. Now, then, for the story. Pepster wants Tulmin in order that he may arrest him for the murder of Sir Philip Clevedon. Not that he believes Tulmin to be the principal or is quite sure that he actually did the killing. But—why are you keeping Tulmin out of the way?”
“Perhaps I was the—”
“Perhaps you were,” I agreed equably.