about your business.' Simon could hear his own voice saying it. Osbett has made from that the one obvious deduction. Nancock had been a dead man when the Saint left the shop.
And to dump the body out of a Hirondel, with a Saint drawing pinned to it, was a no less obvious reply. Probably they had used one of his own authentic drawings, which had still been lying on the desk when he left them. He might have been doing any one of a dozen things that afternoon which would have left him without an alibi.
He had told Patricia that the next move was up to the ungodly, and it had come faster than he had expected. But it had also fulfilled all his other hopes.
'Claud,' he said softly, 'how would you like to make the haul of a lifetime ?'
Teal sat and looked at him.
'I'll trade it,' said the Saint, 'for something that'll hardly give you any trouble at all. I was thinking of asking you to do it for me anyhow, in return for saving your life last night. There are certain reasons why I want to know the address where they have a telephone number Berkeley 3100. I can't get the information from the telephone company myself, but you can. I'll write it down for you.' He scribbled the figures on a piece of paper. 'Let me know where that number lives, and I'll give you your murderer and a lot more.'
Teal blinked suspiciously at the memorandum.
'What's this got to do with it?' he demanded,
'Nothing at all,' said the Saint untruthfully. 'So don't waste your time sleuthing around the place and trying to pick up clues. It's just some private business of my own. Is it a sale?'
The detective's eyes hardened.
'Then you do know something about all this!'
'Maybe I'm just guessing. I'll be able to tell you later. For once in your life, will you let me do you a good turn without trying to argue me out of it?'
Mr Teal fought with himself. And for no reason that he could afterwards justify to himself, he said grudgingly: 'All right. Where shall I find you ?'
'I'll stay home till I hear from you.' Simon stood up, and suddenly remembered for the first time why he was there at all. He pulled a yellow package out of his pocket and dropped it in the detective's lap. 'Oh yes. And don't forget to take some of this belly balm as soon as you get the chance. It may help you to get back that sweet disposition you used to have, and stop you being so ready to think unkind thoughts about me.'
On the way home he had a few qualms about the ultimate wisdom of that parting gesture, but his brain was too busy to dwell on them. The final patterns of the adventure were swinging into place with the regimented precision that always seemed to come to his episodes after the most chaotic beginnings, and the rhythm of it was like wine in his blood.
He had made Teal drive slowly past Cornwall House with him in a police car, in case there were any watchers waiting to see whether the attempt to saddle him with Nancock's murder would be successful. From Cannon Row police station, which is also a rear exit from Scotland Yard, he took a taxi back to his apartment, and stopped at a newsagent's on the way to buy a copy of a certain periodical in which he had hitherto taken little interest. By the time he got home it had given him the information he wanted.
Sam Outrell, the janitor, came out from behind the desk as he entered the lobby.
'Those men was here, sir, about two hours ago, like you said they would be,' he reported. 'Said you'd sent 'em to measure the winders for some new curtains. I
'Thanks a lot, Sam,' said the Saint, and rode up in the lift with
