Thorndyke chuckled. “The kitchen and the laboratory are one,” he replied, “and Polton is the cook. An uncommonly good cook, as you suggest, but his methods are weird. These cutlets were probably grilled in the cupel furnace, but I have known him to do a steak with the brazing-jet. There is nothing conventional about Polton. But whatever he does, he does to a finish; which is fortunate, because I thought of calling in his aid in our present difficulty.”
I looked at him inquiringly, and he continued: “If Miss D’Arblay is to go on with her work, which she ought to, as it is her livelihood, she must be guarded constantly. I had considered applying to Inspector Follett, and we may have to later; but for the present it will be better for us to keep our own counsel and play our own hand. We have two objects in view. First—and paramount—is the necessity of securing Miss D’Arblay’s safety. But, second, we want to lay our hands on this man, not to frighten him away, as we might do if we put the police on his track. When once we have him, her safety is secured for ever, whereas if he were merely scared away he would be an abiding menace. We have got to catch him, and at present he is catchable. Secure in his unknown identity, he is lurking within reach, ready to strike, but also ready to be pounced upon when we are ready to pounce. Let us keep him confident of his safety while we are gathering up the clues.”
“H’m—yes,” I assented, without much enthusiasm. “What is it that you propose to do?”
“Somebody,” he replied, “must keep watch over Miss D’Arblay from the moment when she leaves her house until she returns to it. How much time—if any—can you give up to this duty?”
“My whole time,” I answered promptly. “I shall let everything else go.”
“Then,” said he, “I propose that you and Polton relieve one another on duty. It will be better than for you to be there all the time.”
I saw what he meant, and agreed at once. The conventions must be respected as far as possible.
“But,” I suggested, “isn’t Polton rather a light-weight—if it should come to a scrap, I mean?”
“Don’t undervalue small men, even physically,” he replied. “They are commonly better built than big men and more enduring and energetic. Polton is remarkably strong, and he has the pluck of a bulldog. But we must see how he is placed as regards work.”
The question was put to him and the position of affairs explained when he came down to clear the table; whereupon it appeared (from his own account) that he was absolutely without occupation of any kind and pining for something to do. Thorndyke laughed incredulously but did not contest this outrageous and barefaced untruth, merely remarking: