Prelude For War

'Let me tell you some of the things you did,' Teal inter­rupted stolidly. 'You dined at the Berkeley with Lady Valerie Woodchester. She left at about half-past ten, and you went to the Cafe Royal. You got back here towards twelve-fifteen, and at five minutes past one you went out again. Your friends Quentin and Uniatz were with you, and you were careful to see that you weren't followed. At twenty-five minutes past two Miss Holm left here in another of your cars, and she was also very careful to see that she wasn't followed. At four-thirty this morning you came in alone. I want to know what you were doing between one-five and four-thirty.'

'What a man you are, Claud!' said the Saint with ad­miration. 'Nothing is hidden from you. Your house must be full of little birds.'

'It's my business to know what people like you are doing.'

'You know,' said the Saint in an injured tone, 'I believe you must have been having me watched. I don't call that very friendly of you. Have you lost your old faith in me ?'

'What were you doing between one-five and four-thirty this morning?' Teal repeated tigerishly.

The Saint stirred his coffee with an air of shy discomfort.

'I really didn't want you to know about that,' he con­fessed. 'You see, much as I love you, you're always the pro­fessional policeman, and you have to take such a morbidly legal view of things. The fact is, Peter and Hoppy and I decided that we didn't feel tired so we pushed off to a little club we wot of where they haven't any respect for the licensing laws, and we stayed there hardening our arteries and talking to loose women until nearly dawn.'

'What's the name of this club?'

'That's just what I can't tell you, Claud. You see my point. If you knew where it was you'd feel you had to do something about closing it down, because any place in London where one might have a good time always has to be closed down. And that would be a pity, because it's quite a cheery little spot now, and these places always become so dismal when they get infested with disguised policemen snooping about for evidence and leaving the smell of Lifebuoy soap in their wake——'

'All right,' Teal said with frightful restraint. 'That's your story. And now suppose you tell me about those men you painted red, white and blue and left outside Luker's house.'

The Saint put down his coffee cup. He wore the incredu­lous and appalled expression of a Presbyterian elder who has been accused of operating an illicit still.

'Painted?' he said hollowly.

'Yes.'

'Red, white and blue?'

'Yes.'

'Outside Luker's house?'

'Yes.'

'Who were these men?'

'You know as well as I do. Their names are Bravache, Pietri and Dumaire.'

The Saint shook his head with great concern.

'Somebody must have been pulling your leg, Claud,' he said. 'I simply can't imagine myself doing a thing like that, even after a night at the place where I was. Did anybody see me paint them and leave them outside Luker's house? Do they say I painted them?'

Mr Teal unwrapped a springboard of spearmint with wearily deliberate fingers, as if he were undressing himself for bed after a hard day. He had already spent a bad hour in dire anticipation of this interview and his forebodings had not been disappointed. But he had to go