'Cut out the talking and say what you mean to do with us.' The quiet manner of this sinister little man was beginning to fret the Inspector's nerves in a way which no bullying or bluster could have done.
Lord Gavin turned his heavy head slowly in Wells's direction and his pale eyes glittered for a moment. 'Surely there can be no question in your mind, Inspector, about my intentions regarding you. Both you and Sallust have pried into my affairs. You ferreted out the address of Sabine's firm in Paris: in consequence I have been compelled to close it. Not a matter for grave concern but an inconvenience all the same; and now it seems that the two of you have actually witnessed certain operations by my people south of Romney Marshes. You know too much. You have signed your own death warrants. There is no alternative.'
'But you can't kill us in cold blood!'
Lord Gavin shrugged. 'What is there to prevent me? My interests are far too great for me to jeopardise them just because the lives of two inquisitive young men are in question.'
'You'll hang for it if you do,' snapped Gregory. 'Scotland Yard knows what you're up to this time, I tell you. You can't murder us and dispose of our bodies without leaving any trace; sooner or later they'll get you for it.'
'It is most unlikely that they will ever get me for anything, but if they do they will never be able to pin your deaths upon me. Both of you are going to disappear and without leaving any trace.'
Wells grunted. 'Lots of people have thought they were so clever they could get away with murder but it's not so easy.'
'Indeed?' A cold smile twitched Lord Gavin's lips. 'Do you know where we are at the moment?'
'Somewhere in Thanet.'
'No, we are a little to the south of Thanet, less than half a mile from the coast of Pegwell Bay. Does that convey anything to you, I wonder.'
'Only that it'll be useful to have the location of another of your bases when we're out of this,' said Wells doggedly.
'You will never be out of this, so the knowledge is quite useless to you and, whenever I wish them to do so, my fleet of planes will continue to land upon that beautiful stretch of ground called Ash Level, so convenient to the railway line which you must have crossed when you were brought here. It seems you do not know the peculiarities of Pegwell Bay,"
'It's very shallow,' said Gregory slowly. 'If I remember, the tide runs out for nearly two miles, and when it turns comes in nearly as quickly as a man can run. There are lovely sands too. I went for a gallop along them once when I was staying with some friends at Sandwich.'
'Excellent sands,' Lord Gavin nodded. 'That is, for the first half mile or so from the shore, but farther out there are certain areas which have cavities of water beneath them, although they appear firm and beautiful to the uninitiated. It is a dangerous thing to take a short cut across the big bay at low tide, particularly at night, if you do not know the location of the treacherous patches. People have died that way, just disappeared beyond all trace, their bodies being swallowed up by the quicksands.'
The muscles of Gregory's hands tightened, and he felt that his palms were damp; while Gerry Wells's freckled face went a perceptible shade paler.
Lord Gavin went on unhurriedly: 'That was the reason I had you brought here immediately my people telephoned to tell me that they had caught two spies. It is a great convenience that one of my bases should be adjacent to my private burial ground. The tide is running out. It will be low at six ten this morning. A stone's throw from the cottage here we have the river Stour, which flows through Sandwich and empties itself into the sea by a deep channel in the bay. At five o'clock, while the tide is still running out, my men will take you in a boat down the river and out to sea; then they will throw you overboard in a place where it is too shallow for you to swim and which the tide will probably have left dry by the time you are engulfed in the sand up to your armpits. You have a little over three hours now to exercise your imagination as to what will happen after that.'
'God! you're not human,' Gregory gasped.
Lord Gavin wriggled forward in the armchair and shuffled to his feet. 'I am as the God you invoke made me,' he said with sudden venom and all the stored up bitterness of years seemed concentrated in his voice. His childish body shook with a sudden gust of passion and he spat out at them: 'You have had health and strength, been able to run and leap, and take your women, during your time. Now, your feet shall be tied by the grip of the sands and your great muscles will not help you. You chose to match your wits with mine, and I have proved your master. In your little minds you plotted to interfere with the work that I would do. All right then! You shall gasp out your lives repenting of your folly.'
Suddenly the storm passed and he went quiet again. 'You'll see to it,' he said softly to the Limper, and drawing his black cloak about him he left the cottage without another word.
As the door banged to behind him Wells let out a sharp breath. Little beads of perspiration were now thick upon his forehead. He had been in some tight corners before now, criminal dens in the East End where crooks would have given him a nasty mauling if they had suspected he was a policeman, but nothing to compare with this where he would lose his life unless he could think of a way out.
'Tie their feet again,' said the Limper, 'and push them in the scullery.'
His order was the signal for a fresh struggle. Gregory and Wells both kicked out with savage violence and tried to break away but their arms were still tied and they had four of the Limper's men against them. The uneven tussle could only end one way. The pugilist hit Gregory in the pit of the stomach; one of the others sloshed Wells on the side of the jaw. The Limper did not even need to go to the assistance of his underlings. The prisoners were forced down on the floor and their ankles tied again with thick cord. Then they were dragged across the room and laid out side by side upon the scullery floor.
Gregory had given up the fight before Wells, and as soon as he got his strength back he was thinking, 'If only they shut us in we'll cheat the devils yet. If Wells rolls over on his face I'll unpick the knots that tie his arms with my teeth. The rest'll be easy providing they don't hear us going out through the window.' But even as he was planning an escape the Limper's voice came again:
'Don't shut the door. Leave it wide open; so I can keep my eye on them in case they start any tricks.'
The ex pugilist put a kettle on the hob and then produced a greasy pack of cards. He and his three companions sat down to a game of nap while the Limper picked up a tattered magazine and settled himself in the armchair to read.
A grim silence fell inside the cottage, broken only by an occasional murmur from one of the card players or the squeak of a chair as it was pushed back a little across the boards.
Gregory turned over twice to ease his position but each time he moved he saw the Limper glance up and stare in his direction.
For a quarter of an hour, that seemed like and eternity, he decided to try bribery.
Straggling into a sitting position he spoke softly to the Limper. 'Come here a minute will you.'
The Limper put down his magazine and walked over to the entrance of the cupboard like scullery. 'What is it?'
'Just wanted a word with you,' Gregory said in a low tone. 'You're in this game for what you can get out of it aren’t you?'
'That's so,' agreed the Limper noncommittally.
'Well, I don't know what Gavin Fortescue pays you but I'm a bidder for your services. I'm not a rich man myself, although I could raise a tidy sum, but there's a friend of mine who's next door to being a millionaire Sir Pellinore Gwaine-Cust you may have heard of him. He looks on me as a sort of adopted son and he'll honour any arrangement that I make without a murmur. Fix it how you like with the others, but get us out of this and we'll pay you £5,000, besides seeing to it that you get safely out of the country. It's Gavin Fortescue we're after and we can afford to shut our eyes to anything you've done if you'll give us a break. How about it?'