“The bird in the next room shouted the address in my ear,” returned Drummond, “that time we were having one at the Three Cows.”
“Damn it,” exploded MacIver, “what took you to the Three Cows? In disguise too.”
“Just vulgar curiosity, Mac,” said Drummond airily. “And we felt that our presence in evening clothes might excite rude comment.”
“Your presence in that rig excites my comment,” snapped the detective.
“Undoubtedly, old lad,” said Drummond soothingly. “But there’s no law against toddling round in fancy dress as far as I know, and you ought to be very grateful to us for bringing you here. We’ve presented you with a new specimen, in a better state of preservation than the others you’ve got. Moreover, he’s the only one who deserved his fate. The fact of the matter, MacIver, is that we’re up against some pretty unscrupulous swine. Their object tonight was to kill Mr. Stockton, and they very nearly succeeded. Why they should view him with dislike is beyond me, but the fact remains that they do. They set a deliberate trap for us, and we walked into it with our eyes open. You followed on, and in the darkness everybody mistook everybody else.”
The detective transferred his gaze to Toby Sinclair.
“You’re Mr. Sinclair, ain’t you?”
“I am,” returned Toby affably.
“I thought you were both of you told not to pass this matter on. How is it that Captain Drummond comes to know of it?”
“My fault entirely, Inspector,” said Toby. “I’d already told him before Mr. Stockton returned from the War Office this morning.”
“So I thought I’d help you unofficially,” murmured Drummond, “the same as I did at the time of the Black Gang.”
MacIver’s scowl grew positively ferocious.
“I don’t want your help,” he snarled. “And in future keep out of this matter or you’ll find yourself in trouble.
“Well!” He swung round as some of his men came into the room.
“Nothing, sir. The house is empty.”
“Then, since the hour is late, I think we’ll leave you,” remarked Drummond. “You know where to find me, Mac; and you’d better let me know what I’m to say about that bloke’s death. From now on, I may say, we shall drop this, and concentrate exclusively on the breeding of white mice.”
For a moment I thought MacIver was going to stop us; then apparently he thought better of it. He favoured us with a parting scowl, and with that we left him. By luck we found a taxi, and Drummond gave his own address.
“There are one or two things we might discuss,” he said quietly, as we got into the car. “MacIver’s arrival is an undoubted complication. I wonder how he spotted you, Stockton.”
“That’s what beats me,” I remarked. “I spotted him—not as MacIver, of course—down at the Three Cows. He struck me as a suspicious character, so I kept my eye on him casually while you were talking to that racing tout.”
“Oh! Lord!” Drummond began to laugh. “Then that accounts for it. The effect of your casual eye would make an archbishop feel he’d committed bigamy. It has a sledgehammer action about it, old man, that would make a nun confess to murder.”
“I’m very sorry,” I said huffily. “But please remember that this sort of thing is quite new to me. And the practical result seems to be that we’ve got ourselves into a very nasty hole. Why—that confounded Inspector man suspects me.”
“He doesn’t really,” said Drummond reassuringly. “He was merely as mad as thunder at having made an ass of himself.”
And then he started laughing again.
“Poor old Mac! Do you remember when we laid him out to cool on his own doorstep, Toby?”
“I do,” returned Sinclair. “And I further noticed that your allusion to the Black Gang was not popular. But, joking apart, Hugh—what’s the next move?”
“It rests on a slender hope, old boy,” said Drummond. “And even then it may lead to nothing. It rests on the reappearance of little rat face. Of course he may be able to tell us nothing: on the other hand, there must have been some reason for tricing him up. And that reason may throw some light on the situation.”
“But are you really going on with it?” I asked.
They both stared at me in amazement.
“Going on with it!” cried Drummond. “What a question, my dear man. Of course we are. Apart altogether from the fact that they’re bound to have another shot at you, and probably at us too, there is all the makings of a really sporting show in this affair. Wash out MacIver’s unfortunate entrance for the moment, and concentrate on the other aspects of the case. Evidently what I feared this afternoon was correct, and our friend at Hatchett’s—now defunct—got on to us at Brook Street. He may have asked the head waiter whom I was—that’s a detail. He follows us to the Three Cows; he lays a deliberate trap into which we fall—admittedly with our eyes open. The sole object of that plot is to kill you and possibly us. It fails, and somewhat stickily for the originator. But you don’t imagine that we can allow the matter to rest there, do you? It wouldn’t be decent.”
“Still,” I persisted, “it seems to me that we may be getting ourselves into hot water with the police if we go on.”
Drummond laid his hand reassuringly on my knee.
“It’s not the first time, old lad,” he remarked. “Mac and I are really bosom friends. Still, if you feel doubtful, you can back out. Personally I propose to continue the good work.”
“Oh! if you’re going on I’m with you,” I said, a little ungraciously. “Only please don’t forget I’m reputed to be a lawyer.”
“Magnificent,” returned Drummond imperturbably. “We’ll come to you for legal advice.”
The car pulled up in front of his house and we got out.
“Come in and change,” he went on, “and we’ll have a nightcap.”
I noticed that his eyes were searching the street. The hour was two, and as far as I could see it was deserted. And yet I couldn’t help
