“There is just this much to it,” he went on icily: “I have in my possession certain articles for which you people have conspired. They are intact, just as we found them when Captain Dillon reluctantly parted with them.”
Dillon scowled darkly, but did not interrupt.
“We will return them to you for a price,” Margate continued. “What that sum shall be, and when the deal can be completed, are the only two questions to be settled.”
“Ah, indeed?” queried Esterveldt, frowning. “What about this detective and his assistant, the one you say is in your hands?”
“You may dispose of them as you please, Baron Esterveldt,” Margate said coldly. “I can imagine that your subsequent safety will permit of only one course.”
“There is some truth in that.”
“What you do with them is immaterial to me,” added Margate. “Carter is too dangerous a man for me to leave alive, if I were the one seriously threatened. That, however, will be up to you.”
“We can take care of him,” snapped Irma Valaska, with a fiery glance at the unruffled detective. “We’ll be sure to close his mouth.”
“Possibly.”
Nick dropped in the single doubtful word indifferently.