Simon raised his eyebrows mournfully, but he checked the protest that was almost becoming a habit. After all, Teal was only a detective. One had to make allowances.
"Miles Hallin thought no one in the world knew the truth about him," said the Saint. "And then he found that I knew. So he wanted me to die."
Teal compressed his lips.
Then he said: "And what was this truth?"
"Simply that Miles Hallin is a coward."
"Would he try to kill you for that?"
The Saint gazed at the ceiling,
"Did you take my tip about that Brooklands affair?" he asked.
"I made some inquiries," Teal shrugged. "I'm afraid it wasn't much use. I'm told no one could Improve anything."
"And yet you've come back to see me."
"After that business last night. On the level, Templar, I'd be glad of a tip. You know something that I don't know, and just this once I want you to help me. If it had looked like one of your ordinary shows, I wouldn't have done it."
"Where is the peculiar difference between this show and what you call my 'ordinary shows'?"
"You know as well as I do--"
"I don't!"
The Saint uncurled from his chair like a steel spring released, and his eyes were of the same steel. The detective realized that those eyes had been levelled unwinkingly at him for a long while; but he had not realized it before. Now he saw his mistake.
"I don't know anything of the kind," snapped the Saint, with those eyes of chilled steel; and the laziness had vanished altogether from his voice. "But I do know that I can't swallow the joke of your coming to see me just because you want to take one of my feathers and put it in your own cap. I've got a darned good swallowing apparatus. Teal, I promise you but it simply won't sink that one!"
Teal blinked.
"I only wanted to ask you--"
"Shucks!" said the Saint tersely. "You've told me what you wanted to ask me. My yell is that you haven't told me the real reason. And that's what I'm going to know before we take the palaver any further. You asked me not to stall; now I'm telling you not to stall. Shoot!"
For a space of seconds they eyed one another in silence; and then the detective nodded fractionally, though his round, red face had not changed its expression.
"All right," he said slowly. "I'll come clean--if you'll do the same."
The Saint stood tensely. But he hesitated only for a moment. He thought: "Something's happened. Teal knows what it is. I've got to find out. It may or may not be important, but--"
The Saint said curtly: "That's O.K. by me,"
"Then you start," answered Teal.
Simon drew breath.
"Mine's easy. I suspect that the story of Hallin's luck in Australia is a lie. I know that Hallin's crazy about the same girl that Nigel Perry's in love with. I know that Hallin tried to push Perry out of the running by persuading him to put the little money he'd got into a mine that Hallin thought was a dud. I know that Teddy Everest told Hallin the mine was a dud, and later told him that it wasn't a dud after all. I know Hallin faked that crash because Teddy might be dangerous. I know Hallin had planned some story to get those shares back from Perry; and I know Hallin tried to kill me, because I told Perry the truth--even if Perry didn't believe me. That's all there is to it. Your turn."
Teal's chair creaked as he moved; but his eyes were closed. He appeared to have fallen asleep. And then he spoke with a voice that was not at all sleepy.
"Moyna Stanford was kidnapped this afternoon," he said; and the Saint swore softly
"The hell!
"That's all I know."
"Tell me about it."
"There's very little to tell. She'd been down to lunch with some friends at Windsor--she walked alone to the station--and she hasn't been seen since."
"But, burn it!--a grown girl can disappear for two or three hours without being kidnapped, can't she?"
"Ordinarily, she can," said Teal, "I'm just telling you what's happened. She was due to have tea with some friends of her mother's. They rang up her mother to ask why she hadn't come. Her mother rang up Windsor to ask the same question. And as soon as her mother grasped the facts she went flying to the police. Of course, Mrs. Stanford didn't get much satisfaction--we haven't got time to attend to hysterical parents who get the wind up as quickly as that--but I heard about it, and it seemed to link up. Anyway--"
"She might have run away with Perry," said the Saint, with a kind of frantic hope that he knew instinctively to be the hope of a fool.
And the detective's reply came so pat that even Simon Templar was startled,
"She might have," said Teal grimly, "because Perry's also disappeared."
The Saint stood like a statue.
Then when he spoke again his voice was strangely quiet.
"Tell me about Perry," he said. . "Perry just went out to lunch in the ordinary way, but he never went back to the office."
The Saint removed his cigarette from his mouth. It had gone out. He gazed at it as if it's extinction was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Then he said: "At the police court this morning, Hallin was remanded for a medical examination. Was that the beak's idea--or yours?"
"Largely mine," said Teal,
"Would Hallin know?"
"He might have guessed."
"And what happened after that?"
"Probably, he lunched with Perry. The identification isn't certain, but--"
"Has Hallin been seen anywhere since?"
"I've had men making inquiries. If you'll let me use your telephone--"
"Carry on."
The detective moved ponderously over to the instrument; and Simon, lighting another cigarette, began to stride up and down the room.
He was still pacing the carpet when Teal hung up the receiver and turned to him again.
"Hallin hasn't been seen since lunch."
The Saint nodded without speaking, and set off on a fresh route, his hands deep in his pockets. Teal watched him with exasperation.
"Haven't you got anything to say?" he demanded.
Simon raised his eyes from the floor.
"I've made a big mistake," he said, as though nothing else concerned him; and Teal seethed audibly,
"For heaven's sake!"
"Er--not exactly."
The Saint stopped abruptly on those words, and faced about; and Teal was suddenly amazed that he could ever have associated that dark, rakish profile with trivialities.
"My mistake," said the Saint, "was in underrating Hallin's intelligence. I don't know why I did it. He'd naturally be quick on the uptake. And he'd realize that when those shares went up he'd be damned. Perry would have to believe me. And the rest follows."
"What follows?"
"He got Perry away with some yarn--probably about Moyna. Then he rushed down to Windsor, caught Moyna at the station, and offered to drive her to London. But I know where they went--Perry may be there too."
"Where?"
"Wales."
"How d'you know that?"
"Hallin's got a place there. Damn it, Teal, d'you think you're the only durned General Information Bureau in this gosh-blinded burg?"
Teal brushed his hat on his sleeve.
"I can get a police car round here in five minutes," he stated.
"Do it," said the Saint; and Teal went again to the telephone--very quickly.
When he had given his instructions, he put his hat down on the table, and came and stood in front of the Saint. And suddenly his hands shot out, and moved swiftly and firmly over the Saint's pockets. And the Saint smiled.
"Did you think I was carrying the missing couple around with me?" he murmured, in the mildest of expostulation; but Teal was not amused.
"I'm remembering Lemuel," he said briefly. "You may be coming with me, but you're not carrying a gun."
The Saint smiled even more gently.
"Miles Hallin is terribly afraid," he said, addressing the ceiling. "Once upon a time, he was just afraid of dying; but now he has an even bigger fear. He's afraid of dying before he's finished with life. ... I think someone had better carry a gun."