tenants will be out but I’ve had their permission to use the flat. It has a lounge window next to the Cartiers. Outside Bonnock House there are little balconies — a man of your agility can easily climb from one to the other. I’ll be in the Cartiers’ lounge and you’ll be on the balcony. I’ll leave it to you when you come in ! They’ll probably try to be violent, but that won’t worry you ! Er — have you ever jumped through a pane of glass ?”
Tennant beamed. “I’ve jumped through every tiling!” he declared.
“Don’t cut yourself,” Roger said. “Well now — I’ll have to be busy. As soon as the message is phoned to Mrs Cartier I want her phone disconnected. Then you’ve got to be installed next door . . .”
He continued, outlining his plans; and by half past three everything was settled. Then he telephoned the Yard, to learn that reports showed no developments except that Sloan had left a message to say that Abbott and Martin had left the Yard, and had gone to AZ Division — that part of the East End which included Rose Street and Leech’s pub. Then, before he rang off, he was told that Oliphant had left his Chelsea house at three-fifteen.
Roger was at Piccadilly when he made the inquiries and he drove immediately to Bonnock House. Crossing the Heath, the quickest route, he remembered Dixon’s story of its loneliness.
He reached the Cartiers’ flat at four-fifteen.
The maid who had reminded him of Pickerell opened the door and told him, a shade too quickly, that neither Mr or Mrs Cartier were at home.
“I’ll wait,” Roger said.
“I don’t think —” the maid began.
Someone in another room said : “No, I don’t!”
Roger smiled. “Take my card in, please. Don’t make it difficult for yourself.”
The maid looked reluctant, but she took the card, approached the door from which the voices were coming and tapped, gingerly. Cartier’s voice was sharp.
“What is it?”
“Excuse me, sir, but a gentleman from —”
Roger put his hand to the door and opened it wider. He almost banged into Cartier, who was coming forward. Behind Cartier was his wife, sitting on the settee where she had greeted Roger on that evening which now seemed an age ago. She looked startled; there was hardly any sign left of the rough treatment from Malone.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Cartier demanded.
“I am a police officer,” Roger said, formally. “I would like you to answer a few questions, sir.”
“Why, West!” exclaimed Mortimer Oliphant, rising from an easy chair and smiling widely. “Well, well, how small a place London is!”
The solicitor’s interruption seemed to startle Cartier, who closed the door on the maid. Mrs Cartier extended a hand which Roger carefully ignored; that made her frown. Oliphant, well dressed, smiling, handsome in his dark fashion, spoke heartily.
“I’d no idea that you knew West, Mrs Cartier !”
“Only in the way of business,” said Roger. He glanced at the set tea-table, seeing that there was early lettuce, jam, what looked like real cream and cakes and pastries. Mrs Cartier rang a handbell and the maid appeared.
“Bring another cup for the Inspector,” said Mrs Cartier. “You will have some tea, won’t you ?”
“Thank you,” said Roger, formally.
“We were just discussing a remarkable thing,” said Oliphant, who seemed too anxious to talk. “I received a message asking me to visit Mrs Cartier on Society business and she received one purporting to come from me — but neither of us sent such a message !”
Roger smiled. “No,” he said, “I sent them.”
Cartier exclaimed : “Mr West, you may be a policeman, but I insist on an explanation.”
“Don’t get impatient, darling,” urged Mrs Cartier.
Oliphant said curtly: “That’s a surprising admission, West.”
“I knew that you and Mrs Cartier did a great deal of business together and wanted the opportunity of meeting you at the same time. I couldn’t think of any other way of arranging it.” He smiled pleasantly. Oliphant was wary, Mrs Car- tier’s smile was obscure, and Cartier appeared to be really bewildered.
Oliphant demanded : “Is this visit official ?”
“Haven’t I made that clear?” asked Roger.
“In that case —”
“But not necessarily aggressive!” Roger assured him. He settled back in his chair and waited for the maid to bring in another cup and saucer, knife and plate. When she had gone, he went on : “I think I ought to be frank with you, Mrs Cartier. Your organisation had been used to hide the activities of a criminal organisation which —”
“But of course !” she said. “I told you it had !”
“I wonder if you realise quite how widespread and powerful an organisation it was,” said Roger. “We have been able to find most of the active supporters and many of the people who helped in the work. Unfortunately, we haven’t found who was really directing the organisation unless it was someone in this room.”
He beamed.
“You have no right to make such slanderous suggestions !” said Cartier angrily, but he turned to his wife. “From the very beginning I disliked the idea. If you had not interested yourself in such a charity, this would never have happened !”
