“Somebody at police headquarters,” he said incredulously. “Why, that is impossible, Mr. Yale.”
Derrick Yale shook his head.
“I wouldn’t say anything was impossible, sir,” he said, “but doesn’t it seem to you that all the evidence tends to support that idea? Every effort that we make to bring about the undoing of the Crimson Circle is anticipated. Somebody having access to the cell of Sibly, killed him. Who but a person having authority from headquarters? Take the case of Froyant: there were a number of detectives on duty round and about the house; nobody apparently came in and nobody went out.”
The Commissioner was calmer now.
“Let us have this thing clear, Mr. Yale,” he said. “Are you accusing Parr?”
Derrick Yale laughed and shook his head.
“Why, of course not,” he said. “I cannot imagine Parr having a single criminal instinct. Only if you will think the matter out,” he leant over the table and lowered his voice, “and will go into every detail and every crime that the Crimson Circle has committed, you cannot fail to be struck by this fact: that, hovering in the background all the time was somebody in authority.”
“Parr?” said the Commissioner.
Derrick Yale bit his lower lip thoughtfully.
“I don’t want to think of Parr,” he said. “I would rather think of him as being victimised by a subordinate he trusts. You quite understand,” he went on quickly, “that I should not hesitate to accuse Parr if my discoveries took me in that direction. I would not even free you, sir, from suspicion, if you gave me cause.”
The Commissioner looked uncomfortable.
“I can assure you that I know nothing whatever about the Crimson Circle,” he said gruffly, and realising the absurdity of his protest, laughed.
“Who is that girl over there?” he pointed to a couple who were dining in a corner of the big restaurant. “She keeps looking across toward you.”
“That girl,” said Mr. Derrick Yale carefully, “is a young lady named Thalia Drummond, and her companion, unless I am greatly mistaken, is the Honourable Raphael Willings, a member of the Government and one who has been threatened by the Crimson Circle.”
“Thalia Drummond?” The Commissioner whistled. “Isn’t she the young person who was in very serious trouble some time ago? She was Froyant’s secretary, was she not?”
The other nodded.
“She is an enigma to me,” he said, shaking his head, “and the greatest mystery of all is her nerve. At this precise moment she is supposed to be sitting in my office answering telephone calls and dealing with any correspondence which may arrive.”
“You employ her, do you?” asked the astonished Commissioner, and then with a little smile, “I agree with you about her nerve, but how does a girl of that class come to be acquainted with Mr. Willings?”
Here Derrick Yale was not prepared to supply an answer.
He was still sitting with the Commissioner when he saw the girl rise and, followed by her companion, walk slowly down the room. Her way led her past his table, and she met his enquiring glance with a smile and a little nod, and said something over her shoulder to the middle-aged man who was following her.
“How is that for nerve?” asked Derrick.
“I should imagine you’d have something to say to the young lady,” was the Commissioner’s only comment.
Derrick Yale was very seldom conventional, either in his speech or his behaviour, but for once he found it difficult to deal with a painful situation other than in the time-honoured way.
The girl had reached the office a few minutes before him, and she was taking off her hat when he came in.
“One moment, Miss Drummond,” he said. “I have a few words to say to you before you continue your work. Why were you away from the office at lunch time? I particularly asked you to be here.”
“And Mr. Willings particularly asked me to go to lunch,” said Thalia with an innocent smile, “and as he is a member of the Government, I am sure you would not have liked me to refuse.”
“How did you come to know Mr. Willings?”
She looked at him up and down with that cool, insolent glance of hers.
“There are many ways one may meet men,” she said. “One may advertise for them in the matrimonial newspapers, or one may meet them in the park, or one may be introduced to them. I was introduced to Mr. Willings.”
“When?”
“This morning,” she said, “at about two o’clock. I sometimes go to dances at Merros Club,” she explained. “It is the relaxation which my youth excuses. That is where we became acquainted.”
Yale took some money from his pocket and laid it on the desk.
“There is your week’s wages, Miss Drummond,” he said without heat. “I shall not require your services after this afternoon.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Aren’t you going to reform me?” she asked him so seriously that he was taken aback. Then he laughed.
“You’re beyond reformation. There are many things I will excuse, and had there been a serious shortage in the petty cash, I could have overlooked that. But I cannot allow you to leave my office when I give you explicit instructions to stay here.”
She picked up the money and counted it.
“Exactly the sum,” she mocked. “You must be Scottish, Mr. Yale.”
“There is only one way that you could be reformed, Thalia Drummond.” His voice was very earnest, and he seemed to experience a difficulty in finding the right words.
“And what is that, pray?”
“For a man to marry you. I’m almost inclined to make the experiment.”
She sat on the edge of the desk and rocked with silent laughter.
“You are funny,” she said at last, “and now I see that you are a true reformer.” She was solemnity itself now. “Confess, Mr. Yale, that you only look upon me as an experiment, and that you have no more affection for me than I have for that aged and decrepit bluebottle crawling up
