“Now, about our jail-breaking scheme? I’ve got an amendment. How would it be if the taxi I arrive in should catch fire at the psychological moment?”
“Can it be done?”
“Easily. I’m not a manufacturer of chemicals for nothing.”
“Great! Keep it going for ten seconds for the benefit of the watchful Murphy, and if you look up after that, you’ll see the Englishest looking Englishman you ever sat eyes on outside the pages of Punch, trying to tear my old-fashioned doorbell out by the roots.”
“That’s your best make-up, is it, Remsen?”
“As good as any. Fortified by my accent, it is most convincing. That’ll be Carteret.”
“Who?”
“Rodney Carteret.”
“Am I supposed to know him?”
“Rather. Not know a man with whom you toured for two months in Japan?” said Remsen reproachfully.