Triumph For Inspector West

Warrender’s face was expressionless.

Raeburn seemed determined to keep him waiting. He reached the last entry, read and reread it, then turned back to an earlier page. Still Warrender did not move.

At last Raeburn looked up. “Well, George, what are you after?”

“I’m sorry if you’re so busy,” Warrender said, heavily.

“Must we have sarcasm?”

“If that was sarcasm, we need it. Paul, I work my guts out for you, and the least you can do is to listen when I give you advice.”

“I don’t always like your advice.”

“It’s time you learned to listen to things you don’t like,” Warrender retorted. “And stop grinning at me like a god; you’re made of flesh and blood, and you’re not infallible.”

Raeburn closed the diary, and stood up.

“I’m glad you admit that I’m human,” he said, still smiling. “George, we’re both busy men, and we both need relaxation. I take enough, but you don’t. Just now I like going about town with Eve Franklin. The girl did me a good turn, and there’s no reason in the world why I shouldn’t show my gratitude. You’re worrying too much because you work too hard, and your nerves are on edge. Why don’t you take a holiday?”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing about you,” Warrender retorted.

Raeburn was startled into silence.

“There’s no need for you to stay in England,” went on Warrender. “You’ve a dozen good reasons for going abroad. There’s enough business in America to keep you busy over there for six months; your interests in South Africa and Australia could do with a personal visit. You could take the girl with you, too, although I doubt if she’d last the voyage.”

“George,” Raeburn said, “I don’t want any more sneers at Eve.”

Warrender kept his poker face, but with a great effort.

“Paul, I don’t care what you think about it. I’m talking for your own good. I’ll tell you again that she’s a gold- digging little tart whose head’s as empty as a drum. No, don’t interrupt for once. I wouldn’t care a damn if she wasn’t dangerous, but the police are watching her, and she’ll crack if they keep it up. Get away, and let things quieten down a bit.”

“One would think we’d suffered a heavy reverse,” said Raeburn, unexpectedly mild, “instead of pulling off a big success.”

“If you think it’s clever to rile the police, you’re crazy. West won’t let up, and he means to get you. I’ve just heard from Tenby,” Warrender added, abruptly.

“Where does he come into this interesting lecture? Tenby did very well over Brown.”

“Well be damned! It was a big mistake to kill Brown; it gave West the opening he was looking for,” Warrender declared. “Tenby ought to have reported before taking a chance.”

“Now, George, he didn’t take a chance worth thinking about.” Raeburn was determined to be reasonable. “He saw he could get rid of a dangerous man without serious risk, and I think he was right to take it.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Warrender, flatly. “We could have kept Brown quiet; money will always shut mouths. If we rub out everyone who begins to look dangerous, we shan’t last a month. Paul, there’s such a thing as over- confidence ; we simply can’t blot out everyone who might let us down.”

Raeburn sat on the edge of the desk, and said:” Perhaps you would be happier with Halliwell alive.”

“He had to go,” Warrender agreed, “but you were wrong to do it yourself. That was the first thing that worried me. Tenby could have looked after him. If he had, we should have been able to deal with Tenby; we shouldn’t have needed to find Eve; Brown wouldn’t have been a menace, and you wouldn’t be under pressure from the Yard.”

“All right, it was a mistake,” Raeburn conceded, very slowly.

“Anyone can make one, but now we’ve got to cover up, instead of leaving ourselves wide open,” Warrender said.

“That is where we disagree,” responded Raeburn, now his most suave. “George, you will underrate my influence in high places.”

“Or you rate it too high.”

“You’re wrong,” Raeburn said, quietly. “We had a brush with the police and had a narrow escape, but that’s all. I have powerful friends everywhere and they are making sure that I am shown as a victim of police persecution. Every time West tries to be clever, as with Eve, that will be shown up. The Home Secretary has taken the affair up strongly with the Commissioner at the Yard because West has made too many mistakes. The Cry is winning a great deal of sympathy over its persecution campaign, and other newspapers are taking it up. West and the police will soon be so busy getting themselves out of trouble that they won’t have time to worry about us.”

“You simply don’t know West or the Yard,” Warrender said, stubbornly.

“You forget that West has to obey orders,” Raeburn countered. “He will be told to get on with his job, and stop harassing a highly reputable citizen, such as I!”

Warrender took a step forward, and spread his hands in a kind of pleading.

“Paul, you’re starting a vendetta with the police, and I tell you that you’re bound to lose,” he said. “No friends can help if they prove Eve lied. Why don’t you see my point? You’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted. Why, ten years ago, you couldn’t lay your hands on a thousand pounds; today you’re as rich as Rockefeller.” When Raeburn didn’t answer, Warrender went on desperately: “There must be something eating you. What’s behind your attitude, Paul?”