18 The Saint Bids Diamonds (Thieves' Picnic)

Palermo swallowed, but no words came from his throat for a full half minute.

'I can explain,' he began, and then the words dried up again before the concentrated malignity of Graner's gaze.

'You have taken a long time to think of your explanation,' Graner said coldly. 'We will see if you have anything better to say at the house. If not-I fear that we shall not miss you very much. . . .'

He turned to Lauber.

'Take him down to the car.'

Palermo gasped, hesitated, and made a sudden bolt for the door. But the hesitation lost him any chance he might have had. Lauber caught him by the coat and wrapped his arms round him in a bear hug in which Palermo writhed and kicked as futilely as a child. Palermo got one hand to the coat pocket where he had once had a gun; and when he found it empty he let out one short squeal of terror like a trapped rabbit.

Simon picked up the cord that had been cut away from his own wrists, and sorted out enough of it to tie Palermo's hands behind his back, while Lauber kept hold of him.

'Aliston may be coming back here,' he remarked, as he went through to the bedroom to fetch one of the gags which had been left there.

'I had thought of that.' Graner held the knob of his slender cane between his thumb and forefinger and swung it like a pendulum. 'They took the other car when they went out.'

'They brought me here in a car-wasn't it outside when you arrived?'

'No.'

'Aliston must have taken it, then.'

'Where was he going?'

'I gathered that he was going to look for Christine. Anyway, that was the excuse.'

'Did he know where to look?'

Simon busied himself with carefully packing the last square inches of the dishcloth into Palermo's mouth.

He could estimate just how hopeful a chance Aliston had-in Santa Cruz, the stand to which a taxi is allot­ted can be identified from the number, and business is not so brisk that a driver forgets his fares quickly. Given the number of the cab, which he knew Aliston had got, it would only be a matter of time before the chauffeur was located; and from then on the trail would be as easy to follow as if it had been blazed in luminous paint. The Saint dared not think how much time had slipped away since Aliston left; somehow, before much more of it had elapsed, he had got to find a way to ditch Graner and Lauber and leave him­self free to tackle that problem. And yet Lauber was the one man in Santa Cruz to whom the Saint wanted to talk-but in private.

'I think he's wasting his time,' answered the Saint confidently. 'I got back to the hotel in a taxi, just before Aliston and Palermo caught me, and Aliston got the number. But I changed taxis a couple of times, with a walk in between, so he's got a long hunt in front of him. When he finds the scent doesn't lead anywhere he'll probably be back. I'll wait for him if you like.'

Graner thought for a moment, and then nodded.

'Yes, you had better do that. Lauber can wait with you in case he gives any trouble.'

Lauber stopped on his way to the door.

'I can't stay here,' he said loudly; and Graner looked at him.

'Why not?'

'Because-well, what are you going to do with Palermo by yourself?'

'Take him back to the house.'

'You've got to drive the car.'

'Palermo is tied up and gagged. He will give no trouble. If he tried to, he would regret it.'

'I can clip him over the head again if you like,' suggested the Saint helpfully.

'That is quite unnecessary. Manoel is still waiting in the square, and I can pick him up. Since you have removed Christine there is no further need for him to remain there.'

Lauber thrust out his heavy jaw.

'Well, I still think it's all wrong'

'Are you disputing my orders?' Graner inquired purringly.

He had his right hand in his pocket again, and his voice had the soft rustle of satin. Lauber glowered at him blackly for several seconds with his fist clenched and his mouth jammed up like a trap; but his gaze wavered before the bright menace of Graner's eyes.

Simon's imagination raced away again-with the domination he had established over Graner, he might still be able to bring about a change of plan. But he certainly wanted Palermo out of the way, and he wasn't very frightened of what Palermo might say to Graner when they were alone. Manoel would doubt­less be making his report sooner or later, anyhow; and it didn't much matter if it was a little sooner. Simon wasn't convinced that they would try to do any­thing about Joris on the spot, with Palermo on their hands; besides, an abduction would take a certain time to get organised, and they still had to locate Joris' room. Meanwhile the Saint did want to talk to Lauber. It was a matter of timing by split seconds and bal­ancing arguments without the weight of a flake of ash to choose between them, but Simon had spent his life betting on snap decisions.

'Don't be a fool, Lauber,' he said encouragingly. 'We don't want two of us off duty looking after Palermo while there's Aliston to be taken care of.'

Lauber seemed as though he was about to make another protest. Graner laid his stick on the table and picked