“Have you really worked it all out?”
“No, not quite all; but I’m in the sort of stage where the great detective says, ‘Good God, what a blind bat I have been!’ As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve been a blind bat at all. On the contrary, I think it’s dashed clever of me to have got hold of the thing now. It’s more than you have.”
“Miles, you’re not to be odious. Tell me all about it, and I’ll see what I think of you.”
“Who was it laughed at me for staying at home and playing patience while other people did the work? No, you shan’t hear about it; besides I haven’t fitted it all together yet.”
“Well, anyhow, you might tell me whether you’ve won the forty quid or lost it.”
“Not a word shall you get out of me at present.”
“Then I’ll make Mr. Leyland arrest you and torture you with thumb-screws. By the way, I wonder what Mr. Leyland’s doing? Brinky must have got to the garage by now, and I should have thought he would have brought him straight back here.”
“The garage? Oh, yes. At least, wait a minute. . . . Of course, now I come to think of it, there’s no real reason to suppose that Brinkman meant to take the car out at all.”
Chapter XXI.
How Eames Spent the Evening
Eames stood behind the window of the passage into the bar parlour, making sure that there was no light behind him to show a silhouette. Yes, there was no doubt, it was Brinkman who had stepped out into the twilight of the street; Brinkman with a despatch-box in his hand; Brinkman on the run. He waited until the street corner hid the fugitive from view, then crammed on his soft hat and followed. He was not an expert at this sort of game, but fortunately there was not much to be done. Brinkman would obviously make for the garage, and when he had passed through the open doors of it, it would be easy for him, Eames, to slink up behind and post himself outside the gateway to prevent a sudden rush. Hang it all, though, why hadn’t the man gone out by the back lane?