had been when Roger had first arrived.

Tears filmed her eyes. She turned away, her shoulders shaking, and blindly walked into another room. She did not close the door after her and Roger saw her fling herself, face downwards, on a single bed.

“Oh, lord !” exclaimed Tennant, stepping towards her.

Roger laid a hand on his arm.

“I shouldn’t,” he advised. “Leave her for a few minutes. Is there a telephone in the flat ?”

“There’s one on the next floor — a public call-box.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Roger said. “Tennant, don’t let Lois leave here. Don’t encourage her, don’t let her persuade you to take her out the back way. If you’re gone when I come back there’ll be more trouble than you expect, and she won’t be safe unless she’s with friends all the time.”

Tennant looked steadily into his eyes, then nodded and said :

“I’ll keep her here, don’t worry.”

“Good man!” Roger hurried downstairs. He found the phone on the landing and took out some coppers. There was no sound of movement in the house. He kept his eyes on the stairs leading to the street, not convinced that Malone would accept even temporary defeat. He dialled his own number, grew worried because there was no immediate answer, and was already imagining disaster at Chelsea when he heard Janet’s voice.

“This is Chelsea 0123.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs West,” said Roger. “I am in great need of feminine assistance to take charge of a damsel in distress. I cast my mind round and after much deliberation decided that I knew no one better qualified for the post than you, so—”

“Oh, you fool!”

Roger heard Mark’s voice, Janet telling Mark to be quiet, then he went on :

“I’m at 29, Chapel Street, St John’s Wood, and I think Mark had better come with you. Will you hurry, darling?”

“I’ll come like the wind ! I — oh, I had the wind up thoroughly, Cornish telephoned and said that Pep had been shot and he wanted to speak to you. Has he been shot?”

Roger sorted out the confusion.

“Yes, but I haven’t! Jan, just a moment. A quarter of an hour won’t make any difference, so before you come here go to Pep’s home, will you? Tell his wife that he’s been shot in the leg but I’m not sure what hospital he’s at —”

“It’s the London,” Janet said in a strained voice. “Cornish told me.”

“Oh, good ! You’ll let her know and tell her not to worry?”

She rang off and Roger replaced the receiver, scratched his ear, then walked slowly up to the top flat.

Pennant was still in the outer room, looking bewildered and peering through at Lois, who was sobbing less violently but who had not moved. Roger looked about the poorly- furnished bedroom. There was a small window, fairly high up — he did not think there was any chance of her getting out that way, nor of anyone breaking in. He closed the door and turned to Tennant.

“You do take things into your own hands, don’t you?” Tennant remarked.

“In this case I must,” Roger said, offering a cigarette. “How much do you know?”

“Nothing. I’ve been in Scotland for four months. I’m—” he grinned — “an unarmed combat instructor! Before I left, Lois was — well, she was just her normal self. As a matter of fact,” he added with some embarrassment, “we’d got engaged during my last leave and I was rather in the clouds, you know. Her letters didn’t say anything about what’s been happening but a friend of mine wrote and told me that she seemed to be worried stiff. He didn’t know what it was about. I didn’t say anything about coming down, but I managed to wangle a week’s leave earlier than I’d expected. I found — well, she’s as jumpy as a cat! I thought she .would fall through the floor when she saw me. Then I realised that some brutes are pestering the life out of her. She’s absolutely terrified,” Tennant added. “I can’t make her say why. Do you know why she’s so frightened?” demanded Tennant.

“No,” admitted Roger, “but I hope to, soon.”

CHAPTER 13

Strictly Unofficial

JANET AND Mark arrived just inside the hour. Janet seemed to have recovered her composure completely.

Lois was in the bedroom with Tennant, who had gone in a few minutes before and who seemed to have been talking ever since. Janet looked radiant, with a high colour in her cheeks — probably the glow of excitement.

Mark looked slightly peeved, doubtless because he had been so inactive.

“Well, darling?” asked Janet. “What’s on?”

“The thing to accept first is that we’ve found the girl who paid in the money.”

“What!” cried Mark.

“We can’t do anything at all about it yet,” Roger said. “She’s been acting under compulsion and is so frightened that she doesn’t know what she’s doing or saying. Also she’s had a visit from Masher Malone,” he added, gently.

Mark said weakly : “No.”

The voices continued from the other room, Lois’s occasionally raised above Tennant’s; it was clear that she

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