“Very well. Twenty minutes to nine—or I suppose you’ll want it about twenty-five to. Well, you may see us when you come back, or you may not. There’s nothing else, then.”
As the proprietor withdrew behind the door which led into the workshop at the back, Leyland and Pulteney took up their stand behind a hay-waggon which afforded them generous concealment. Even as they did so, a sudden wink of lightning illuminated the outlines of the garage and the road outside; it was followed by a distant sound of thunder. The wind had got up by now, and was moaning uneasily among the rafters of the building, which was no better than an open barn.
“Our performance could hardly have been better staged,” murmured the old gentleman. “I only regret the absence of a revolver. Not that I should have any idea how to use a lethal weapon, but it would give me more sense of derring do. It is singularly unfortunate that, even if I narrate the events of this evening to my pupils next term, they will not believe me. They suspect any information which comes from such a source. To you, I suppose, this is an everyday affair?”
“Don’t you believe it, Mr. Pulteney. Most of a detective’s life is spent sitting in an office filling up forms, like any bank clerk. I’ve got a revolver with me myself, but I’m not expecting any shooting. Brinkman doesn’t strike me as being that kind of customer.”
“Is it intended that I should precipitate myself upon the miscreant and overpower him, or where exactly do my services come in?”
Leyland was rather at a loss to answer. The truth was, he did not quite trust Mr. Pulteney, and he thought it best for that reason to keep him by his side. “Well,” he said, “two heads are better than one if it comes to a sudden alteration of plans. But there isn’t going to be any difficulty about catching our friend. If he comes out by the back, he’ll have my man shadowing him. If he should come out by the front, he will have Mr. Eames shadowing him. So he will be caught between two fires.”
“But it might be difficult for Mr. Eames to catch him if he were already in the motor-car and driving it.”
“Don’t you worry about that, Mr. Pulteney. I’ve fixed that car so that nobody’s going to get her to move unless I want him to. It’s the devil of a night, this. I hope Brinkman won’t funk it.”
They seemed, indeed, to be in the very centre of a thunder-storm, though it was nowhere quite close at hand. Every few seconds, from some unexpected quarter, the whole sky seemed to wink twice in rapid succession, and with the wink the roofs of Chilthorpe would suddenly stand out silhouetted, and a pale glare fell on the white road outside. Rain lashed upon the roof above them, and for a few minutes every gutter spouted and every seam in the tiles let in a pattering flood; then, without a word of warning, the rain would die down once more. Occasionally the lightning would manifest itself closer, great jagged streaks across the sky that looked as if they were burying themselves in the hill summits above the town. When the elements were at rest for a moment, there was an uncanny stillness on every side; not a dog barked, not a footstep clattered down the deserted street.
Attuned as their nerves were to the thunder, they both started as if in panic when the telephone bell rang. Leyland was at the instrument in a moment, and heard Angela’s cool voice asking for him at the other end.