Strangwise’s surmise about Desmond’s discretion was perfectly correct. With Desmond Okewood discretion was second nature, and therefore he answered with feigned surprise: “Your evidence about what? About our meeting the Mackwaytes last night?”
After he had spoken he realized he had blundered. Surely, after all, the Chief would have told Strangwise about their investigations at Seven Kings. Still...
“No,” replied Strangwise, “but about Nur-el-Din!”
The Chief had kept his own counsel about their morning’s work. Desmond was glad now that he had dissimulated.
“You see, I know her pretty well,” Strangwise continued, “between ourselves, I got rather struck on the lady when she was touring in Canada some years ago, and in fact I spent so much more money than I could afford on her that I had to discontinue the acquaintance. Then I met her here when I got away from Germany a month ago; she was lonely, so I took her about a bit. Okewood, I’m afraid I was rather indiscreet.”
“How do you mean?” Desmond asked innocently.
“Well,” said Strangwise slowly, contemplating the end of his cigarette, “it appears that the lady is involved in certain activities which considerably interest our Intelligence. But there, I mustn’t say any more!”
“But how on earth is Nur-el-what’s her name concerned in this murder, Maurice?”
Strangwise shrugged his shoulders.
“Ah, you’d better ask the police. But I tell you she’ll be getting into trouble if she’s not careful!”