The Saint vs Scotland Yard (The Holy Terror)

'I am a police officer,' he repeated trenchantly, 'and I should certainly like to hear his explanation.'

This time he made the statement of his identity with such a bald authoritativeness that the buzz of surrounding comment died down to a tense hush. Even the pimply protagonist gaped at him in silence, with her assurance momentarily shaken. The stillness piled up with almost theatrical effect.

'Well?' said Teal.

The Saint gestured airily with his cigarette.

'You arrive,' he said, 'in time to arbitrate over a serious misunderstanding. Let me give you the facts. I travelled down by the boat train from Waterloo this morning in order to keep an eye on a friend of ours whom we'll call Bertie. During the journey I lost sight of him. I tootled around to find out what was happening to him, and eventually located him in the luggage van and in the very act of throwing the last of Miss Lovedew's what's-its out of the window.'

'It's a lie!' bleated the lady, faint but pursuing. 'He stole my clothes, insulted me in my carriage——'

'We come to that in a minute,' said the Saint imperturba­bly. 'As I was saying, I found Bertie just crawling into the trunk he had so unceremoniously emptied. At great personal peril and inconvenience, Claud, I helped him towards his objective and locked him up for delivery to yourself. In order to do this, I was compelled to make a temporary alteration to the labels on the trunk, which I admit I borrowed for the good cause without Miss Lovedew's permission. I made one attempt to explain the circumstances to her, but was rejected with contumely. Then, while I was waiting for you to arrive, this argument about the rightful ownership of the property began. The trunk, as I've never denied, belongs to Miss Lovedew. The dispute seems to be about Bertie.'

Miss Lovedew goggled at him.

'Do you mean to say that there's a man in that trunk?' she demanded hideously.

'Madam,' said the Saint, 'there is. Would you like him? Mr. Teal has the first claim, but I'm open to competitive offers. The specimen is in full running order, suffering at the moment from a black eye and an aching jaw, but otherwise complete and ready for the road. He is highly-strung and sensitive, but extremely virile. Fed on a diet of rye whisky and caviare——'

Teal bent over the trunk and examined the labels. The name on them was his own. He straightened up and levelled his gaze inflexibly upon the Saint.

'I'll talk to you alone for a moment,' he said.

'Pleasure,' said the Saint briefly.

The detective looked round.

'That trunk is not to be touched without my permission,' he said.

He walked over to the rail, and Simon Templar strolled along by his side. They passed out of earshot of the crowd, and stopped. For a few seconds they eyed each other steadily.

'Is that Perrigo you've got in that trunk?' Teal asked pres­ently.

'None other.'

'We've had a full confession from Elberman. Do you know what the penalty is for being in possession of illicit diamonds?'

'I know what the penalty is for being caught in possession of illicit diamonds,' said the Saint circumspectly.

'Do you know where those diamonds are now?'

Simon nodded.

'They are sewn into the seat of Perrigo's pants,' he said.

'Is that what you wanted Perrigo for?'

The Saint leaned on the rail.

'You know, Claud,' he remarked, 'you're the damnedest fool.'

Teal's eyes hardened.

'Why?'

'Because you're playing the damnedest fool game with me. Have you ever known me be an accessory to wanton murder?'

'I've known you to be mixed up in some darned funny things.'

'You've never known me to be mixed up in anything as darned funny as that. But you work yourself up to the point where you're ready to believe anything you want to believe. It's the racket. It's dog eating dog. I beat you to something, and you get mad. When you get mad, I have to