Mr. Neuburg said, “Sophie, take his pistol.”
The woman came behind the young Englishman and took the pistol from his injured hand. She pressed the muzzle of her own small weapon into his spine, just to show what any attempt to fight might mean. Then she stood aside. Henry Gunning stood up and away from the detective, who lay prostrate. He looked swiftly at the silent Neuburg, and then as swiftly turned his eyes away. He stared at Clement. He seemed to be puzzling over Clement. Siwash Mike left the window when Clement was disarmed. He came round into the room. He bent over the detective, his pistol held ready; but, satisfied that the little man was stunned, he picked up the automatic that had fallen to the floor and dropped it into his pocket. To make sure that Gatineau was not shamming, he kicked him sharply and savagely in the body. The prone man did not stir or groan.
Neuburg, after a speculative stare at Clement said, “You have blundered in on me again. You are clever, my exteriorly ingenuous young man. But not quite clever enough. However, clever enough to know that this is a very awkward situation for you.”
He waited for Clement to answer. Clement did not answer.
“Have you anything to say for yourself?” He wanted Clement to show his hand either by defiance or an attempt to temporize.
Clement unsatisfyingly said, “Nothing at all.”
Mr. Neuburg blinked at the invisible thing across Clement’s shoulder.
“I am afraid I want you to say something,” said Mr. Neuburg with his smooth suavity. “Yes, I think I must ask you to give me a few explanations.” He waited. Again Clement did not answer. “Mr. Seadon, you are a worldly-wise young man; you are no fool. You will, I think, understand my position. There are certain facts I must have. I mean to have them.”
Clement did not answer.
“I think you had better say something,” said Mr. Neuburg. His voice took on a curious purr.