“The directors. The man I saw told me that they wouldn’t replace Jim yet but that was nearly a month ago when I went to see if they knew anything about him. The police hadn’t questioned me then and I couldn’t understand what had happened to him.”
“Do you remember the name of the man you saw there?”
“Yes,” said Judith. “Arthur Dimond. I— What’s the matter?” She looked alarmed when Rollison began to choke on a sandwich. “Have I said anything startling?”
“You’ve said plenty,” said Rollison, very softly, “and you’ve proved me a dumbwit, Punch! I haven’t given half enough attention to the business side.
“Yes. I know because it’s on the letter-heading of the company. Mr Dimond looked after another company and didn’t spend much time at Wembley. Is it important?”
“It might be,” said Rollison. “Have some coffee.”
* * *
Arthur Dimond was a director of Jim Mellor’s firm. Flash Dimond had been the leader of the gang Mellor was later supposed to lead. Coincidence could hardly stretch as far as that.
* * *
Judith said: “No, thanks, I couldn’t eat any more. They were delicious.”
She looked almost sorrowfully at the few sandwiches left on the dish.
It was a quarter of an hour since she had named Arthur Dimond and she had answered many more questions since, most of which Rollison had put absently as he thought of this new angle. He had certainly not probed deeply enough into Mellor’s recent past. But the police weren’t blind: they must have noticed the name Dimond on that letter-heading. “Cigarette?”
The telephone bell rang as Rollison held out his case. He put the case in her hand and dropped a lighter by her side, then went to the telephone. “Rollison speaking.”
“Jolly, sir,” said Jolly. “I’m speaking from a call-box near the Oxford Palace Hotel. I thought I ought to communicate with you at once.”
“Yes?”
“A woman answering Miss Arden’s description has called three times to see Waleski, sir, and she’s just come again. Would it be wise for me to follow her?”
“Not just wise—an act of genius,” said Rollison. “But I’ll want to take over as soon as I can get there. Let me know where she goes, especially if she’s likely to stay there any length of time.”
* * *
What to do with Judith and what to advise her to do? That was the most urgent problem. Was it safe to let her return to her rooms? Reason said “yes,” instinct “no.” There was no indication of danger for her yet; but the comrades of Waleski weren’t likely to give much notice of their next move. They would want to hurt him and might decide that could best be done through Judith. She wouldn’t be able to stand much more.
Judith decided to wash up.
“Jolly will never forgive you,” said Rollison, “but carry on with the good work.”
He carried the tray into the kitchen for her, told her she would find an infinite variety of make-up in the spare room, left her puzzling why he should keep cosmetics here and went back to the telephone. He dialled a Victoria number and was not kept waiting.
“Grice speaking.”
Rollison made his voice gruff.
“Sorry to worry you, sir, but that there Torf ‘as bin up to ‘is tricks again.”
“Who is—Oh, Roily, you fool.” Grice was still friendly judging from his tone. “Where’s Mellor?”
“Hoodwinking everyone like fun. I’m more interested in his girl-friend. Are you having her flat watched?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to send her home. I don’t think it would be good for her to stay at this den of iniquity and I’m not sure that she’ll be safe alone.”
“Any reason for saying that?”
“A bump of caution but nothing logical, Bill. Waleski was watching her place and someone did nearly strangle her. Talking of the comrade—”
“We’re talking about the girl. You can safely let her go home. You’ll find a sergeant in Gresham Terrace and he’s there to follow her. She’ll be all right.”
“Thanks,” said Rollison. “Sworn that warrant for my arrest yet?”
“No,” said Grice. “We’ve decided that Waleski’s been lying and there isn’t a case but we could change our minds. If you run riot I shall let you cool your heels at Cannon Row for a night or two. That’s clear enough, isn’t it?”
“As crystal. I repeat—what are you doing with Waleski?”
“Letting him go. He’s a licence for the gun and says he drew it in self-defence and didn’t use it.”
