Strangwise noted the action and smiled.
“Listen here,” he resumed, planking his hands down on the table and leaning forward, “I’m ready and anxious to quit this spying business. It was only a side line with me anyway. My main object in coming to this country was to recover possession of that diamond star. Once I’ve got it back, I’m through with England...”
“But not with the army,” Desmond broke in, “thank God, we’ve got a swift way with traitors in this country!”
“Quite so,” returned the other, “but you see, my friend, the army hasn’t got me. And I have got you! But let us drop talking platitudes,” he went on. “I’m no great hand at driving a bargain, Desmond—few army men are, you know—so I won’t even attempt to chaffer with you. I shall tell you straight out what I am ready to offer. You were given the job of breaking up this organization, weren’t you?”
Desmond was silent. He was beginning to wonder what Strangwise was driving at.
“Oh, you needn’t trouble to deny it. I never spotted you, I admit, even when the real Bellward turned up: that idea of putting your name in the casualty list as ‘killed’ was a masterstroke; for I never looked to find you alive and trying to put it across me. But to return to what I was saying—your job was to smash my little system, and if you pull it off, it’s a feather in your cap. Well, you’ve killed two of my people and you’ve arrested the ringleader.”
“Meaning Behrend?” asked Desmond.
“Behrend be hanged! I mean Nur-el-Din!”
“Nur-el-Din was not the ringleader,” said Desmond, “as well you know, Strangwise!”
“Your employers evidently don’t share your views, Desmond,” he replied, “all the documents were found on Nur-el-Din!”