The Inspector chuckled. 'Doesn't do to mix pleasure with business, does it?'
'Dammit, you don't understand,' Gregory burst out. 'I'd rather lose my right hand than see her sent to prison; so I spilled the beans that I was working with the police and knew all about the smuggling racket. Then I begged and prayed of her to save herself by turning King's evidence. She wouldn't promise anything but said she must have time to think and promised to let me take her out to dinner if I called here for her again at eight o'clock. I was pretty well certain I'd persuaded her to come in with us; but when I turned up here a few minutes ago I found she had quit and quit for good.'
Wells's eyes narrowed a fraction. 'What exactly did you give away to her during these empassioned moments?'
'Oh, don't fret yourself, passion or no I'm a cautious old bird. I only said we were on to Gavin Fortescue's smuggling racket generally. I didn't breathe a word about the secret base between Calais and Boulogne or Quex Park, so there's no reason to suppose that they'll abandon either of those hangouts. She won't use the Carlton again, of course, and now she knows I'm a sort of unofficial policeman God alone knows if I'll be able to get in touch with her again at all.'
'I wouldn't worry about that.' The Inspector winked suddenly. We're not all quite nitwits, you know. I've had a couple of men following her all day, just in case you slipped up. She's on the road to Quex Park now, as I've just learned from one of the flying squad cars that's sitting on her tail, and as soon as I've had a bite to eat I'm flying down myself. When your man told me on the telephone, ten minutes ago, that you'd changed in a hurry to dash out to dinner, I had a hunch I'd find you here, I thought perhaps you might like to go with me then maybe you'll see her again this evening after all.'
13
Gregory Sallust Has Cause to Hate His job
Gregory and Wells considered it unlikely that the smugglers would undertake any operations much before midnight, but Sabine would do the journey to Quex Park in a couple of hours and so should arrive there by a quarter past ten, or a little after. She might remain only long enough to make fresh arrangements then leave again by plane so, as it was essential to keep track of her, they decided to lose no time following her down into Kent.
They had spent barely a quarter of an hour in reviewing the situation, and Gregory reckoned that even allowing for a return to his flat and a scratch meal on the surplus of the supplies got in for Sabine's tea he could reach Croydon, where Wells's plane was stationed, by 9.30, if he was quick changing into more suitable clothes.
He left the Inspector to call at the Yard and go on down to Croydon ahead of him, then he secured a likely looking taxi and promised the driver double fare if they reached Gloucester Road in under twelve minutes. The man earned his extra money with thirty seconds to spare.
On arriving there Gregory sent Rudd for his car while he changed and ate simultaneously. Once he was out of his tails and clad in his battle equipment he sat down to the wheel of his long two-seater with Rudd beside him to bring it back. Taking the short cut across the river through Battersea, Wandsworth and Tooting, he drove out to Croydon at a speed which shocked onlookers but was actually quite safe for a really expert driver.
Wells was awaiting him, now dressed in airman's kit, beside a single engine 120 h.p. two-seater Tiger Moth.
'Hello! Open cockpit,' said Gregory. 'Wish I'd known; I'd have put on warmer clothes.'
'You'll be all right,' Wells assured him. 'It isn't a long trip and there's a rag inside. Here…' he held out a flat neatly packed bundle with arm straps attached. 'Your parachute. It'll help to keep your back warm.'
'Parachute! What the hell do I want with a parachute?' Gregory grunted.
'Nothing, I hope, but I'm afraid you've got to wear it if you're coming in my plane. Government regulations.'
'Oh, well!' Gregory pushed his arms through the loops and fastened the gear about his waist, then climbed into the observer's seat. He never wasted his breath on unnecessary arguments when there was work to be done.
The sun had set at a little before nine. It was nearly dark now and the stars were coming out again for what promised to be another almost cloudless August night.
Gregory had flown a good deal in his time, but he had never quite got accustomed to the amazing speed by which one could cover an actual point to point distance by plane, as compared with road or rail. Twenty-five minutes after leaving Croydon he picked out the great mile wide belt of trees which gave Quex Park such shelter, yet threw it up from the air in the flat surrounding landscape. Wells kept well to the south of it, passing over the little village of Acol, then veered northward towards the sea. After a moment a single beam of light showed in the fields to the east of the park and he came down towards it.
'I wasn't taking any chances this time,' he shouted back to Gregory as they bumped to a standstill. 'I gave orders for one of my men to show a light here where you came down before.'
The torch had disappeared but a voice came out of the darkness: 'Mr. Wells?'
'Yes, Simmons, what's the latest?'
'Thompson reported twenty minutes ago, sir. There's nothing fresh, so he's gone back to watch the house again.'
'Good.' The Inspector smiled over his shoulder towards Gregory. 'We've beaten her to it then but she ought to be here fairly soon. Simmons will look after the plane while we go inside and give the lady a silent welcome.'
Gregory grunted noncommittally as he climbed out. True, he wanted desperately to get in touch with Sabine again, but not when he was in the Inspector's company. Wells had quite enough evidence upon which to arrest her any moment he chose and Gregory knew that she was only being left at liberty so long as she might prove a useful lead to further evidence which would incriminate Lord Gavin. Once the net closed it would be beyond his power to help her.
It was a dark sultry night again; the very centre of the dark period between moons, which the smugglers were using for their operations. Hence, Gregory felt certain, their intense activity and swift journeying, which would continue for another forty-eight hours at least. After which, unless the weather broke, they would probably not run further cargoes until the moonless period in September.
With Wells beside him he made his way through the pitch-black wooded belt along the east drive to the fringe of the lawn, from where, knowing now the direction of the house, he could distinguish its outline among the surrounding trees less than a hundred yards away.
The hoot of an owl came from some bushes nearby and to Gregory's surprise Wells mimicked the cry in reply. Immediately there was a stirring in the shadows to their left and a figure tiptoed across the gravel path towards them.
'All quiet, Inspector,' said the newcomer in a low voice.
'Thanks, Thompson, you'd better stay here while we go round to the back of the house.' Keeping in the shadow of the trees they tiptoed down a narrow path through the shrubbery until they came out at the rear of the building. A light was burning in the scullery window where Gregory had attempted to break in the night before.
Wells moved along the wall of the house to the doorway and knocked gently on it. There was no reply. He knocked again, louder this time, and there was a sound of footsteps in the stone flagged passage. The door swung open and Milly's slender form was revealed on the lighted threshold.
'Hullo,' she said in pleased surprise. 'I didn't expect to see you so soon again.'