'And will you all be quite sure that it's safe for the rest of you to hear? I'm not promising anything, but you might get some valuable information out of me; and then one of you might use it for himself.'
Graner put the tips of his fingers together in his old-maidish way.
'That will not concern yon,' he said ironically.
'But I think it concerns all of us,' said the Saint. 'Get your senses together and look at it. We've all been dashing about in different directions, trying to cut each other's throats. Now we seem to have got joined up again. Let's stay that way. You've got Christine. I've still got the other two. Let's put our cards on the table and see how the hand plays out.'
Aliston's sharp falsetto laugh twittered across the room.
'You must think we're a lot of fools,' he said scornfully.
'Would you be a bigger fool to trust me than to trust a little punk like Palermo? Would Graner be a bigger fool to trust me than to trust a thickheaded windbag like Lauber? You, Art-after the way Aliston ratted on you when he thought things were getting too hot-d'you still feel he's your soul mate? Have you forgotten that clout Lauber gave you on the kisser? Lauber-do you remember how Palermo and Aliston wanted to kiss you and put you to bed the first night I came here? And Graner-what has he done --'
'That is enough!'
The shrillness in Graner's voice had gone up a note or two. He stood up, as if in that position he felt it would be easier to re-establish the dominance that was slipping away from him.
'All right!' The Saint's voice also rose, intentionally, as he played into the rising tempo of the situation. 'Then you do the talking. And you take the consequences. I don't care much if you all double-cross each other to death. I'll help you!'
'Are you going to answer my questions ?'
'Anything you like. But don't blame me if the answers don't please everybody.'
'Where's Joris?'
'When I last saw him he was at the hotel.'
'And the other man?'
'I told you I lost him at the Casino.'
'Was that the truth?'
'No, Reuben. It wasn't.'
'Where is he?'
'I haven't the foggiest idea. He might be roaming around anywhere. He may be at the hotel too.'
'When are you supposed to meet them?'
'I'm not. I've done all the meeting I have to do.'
'What do you know about the ticket?'
'Nearly everything,' said the Saint quietly.
Lauber's chair grated on the floor as he pushed it back. He got up like a whale rising to the surface.
'Let me talk to him,' he said; and the Saint laughed at him.
'I'll bet you'd like to! But I warned you my answers wouldn't please everybody. You all asked for it. Now you can have it.'
'You --'
Graner swung round.
'Be quiet, Lauber. I am doing the questioning.' He turned back to the Saint, with his eyes hard and glittering behind his glasses. 'You can go on answering me, Templar. Where is the ticket?'
'So far as I know, it's where Lauber put it.'
'You god-damn liar!' Lauber roared savagely.
The Saint's cool blue eyes rested on him unruffledly, and the whole of the Saint's mind was at peace with the prevision of triumph. He could feel the volcanic pressure in the air, the clash of antagonised minds locked in a silent struggle with themselves and each other.
'Naturally you'd say that,' he murmured. 'I think you said much the same thing to Aliston and Palermo last night, but it didn't seem to upset them. They didn't think it was such a fool idea then.'
'Graner!' Lauber faced thunderously across the table. 'Are you going to let this --'
'There should be no harm in hearing his answer.' Graner's voice had gone cold again, but the nervous tightness was still thinning its sarcastic nasal accents. 'Perhaps you can justify your statement, Templar. It should be easy to verify. Where do you think Lauber put the ticket?'
'In the car.'
'Which car?'
'The Buick. That's the car they chased Joris in last night, isn't it?'
'If it is there, it's because he put it there,' said Lauber furiously. 'The whole story's a plant.' He turned to the others. 'Don't you see what he's trying to do ? He's trying to set us against each other --'
