stumbling against the far wall.
“I tell you I didn’t run you down!”
“You’re lying,” Rollison said ominously.
“I’m not lying. I wasn’t on the Embankment tonight.”
“Perhaps you didn’t kidnap Miss Cordman.”
“Of course I did! I’d been to your flat to see what had happened to my brother. When I got there, your man was unconscious, and Lucy— Lucifer Stride—looked as if he were dead. Frank was just coming round. I managed to get him downstairs and into the car, and then
He was interrupted by a groan from his brother.
Rollison turned to Olivia. “I’m going to tie Frank to the chair,” he said. “I want you to get a detailed statement from him. I’ll take his brother in the next room and get one from him. If their stories tally, there may be some truth in what they’re saying. If they don’t—”
“They will!” gasped Bob Webb. “They will, I swear it.”
* * *
The two statements tallied in practically every detail. The brothers were private inquiry agents, they had been employed by Mrs Abbott to get information regarding Madam Melinska, they had got the information statement by statement, they had compiled the dossier and had brought it to her in London. Bob had been to see her that afternoon, not to get the dossier back but to give her further information. And he swore that she had been alive when he left.
Once Mrs Abbott had realised that Rollison was going to help Madam Melinska, she had bribed the brothers to help her frighten him off. Bob had made the ammonia bomb which Mrs Abbott had thrown at him screaming that she wanted to kill him. Frank had threatened him on the staircase of his flat. When Jolly had locked him in the bathroom he had, as Rollison had suspected, taken morphia so as to be proof against questioning. Both brothers admitted carrying morphia—they sometimes smuggled political prisoners over various borders in Southern Africa, said Frank, and morphia kept their charges quiet. He had come round to find both Jolly and Lucifer Stride unconscious, and a few minutes later his brother arrived and helped him downstairs and into the car, and they had driven straight here.
“But why here?” Rollison had asked sharply. “This is Lucifer Stride’s flat. What connection have you got with Stride?”
“Stride’s flat be damned,” Bob had exclaimed. “It’s ours. Stride was only staying with us. He’s been working for us. We paid him to get information about Madam Melinska from the girl—Mona Lister.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“The problem is, what are we going to do about the Webbs?” Olivia demanded. “I don’t think—”
She was interrupted by a heavy knock at the front door, followed by a long, loud ring.
“It looks as if we don’t have to make a decision,” Rollison said.
“What do you mean?”
“Only the police would make such a din,” Rollison told her, and opened the living-room door as a man called out in a deep but clear voice:
“Coming!” Rollison moved towards the front door and opened it on three men, one of them Clay. He stepped aside and two of them pushed past, while Clay stayed with him.
“We know Miss Cordman’s here,” said Clay. “One of our boys saw the Morris in the drive.”
“Perceptive of you.”
“So you know who they are,” sighed Rollison.
“We had a long cable from Bulawayo,” said Clay with obvious satisfaction. “We know what they’ve been doing —
“Oh,” said Rollison, his heart dropping.
“What’s that you said?” demanded Olivia, coming out of the living-room. “You went to my apartment?”
“And found the reports on Madam Melinska,” announced Clay with heavy satisfaction. “I’d like to know where you got those, Miss.”
Rollison answered for her, telling Clay the story of his visit to the Space Age Publishing offices. As he finished, the two brothers slouched into the hallway, each handcuffed to a detective.
“We only did our job,” blustered Frank,
Bob was more truculent.
