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      In a few brief sentences Wells told his superior of the call they had traced, the telegram, and its interpretation. Marrowfat spread out his map upon the bare deal table, but he shook his head angrily.

      'Mermaid Tavern! Mermaid Arms! must be dozens of pubs with names like that scattered round the Cinque Ports and the North Kent coast.'

      'That's right,' sneered the Limper. 'I'll bet you fifty quid you don't pick on the right one.'

      The Chief Constable consulted with his principal officers from various districts who had pushed their way in behind him. Marrowfat proved right: each of them added to the list by some little house or teagarden hotel called the 'Mermaid', in towns and villages as far apart as Hythe, Broadstairs and Whitstable.

      Marrowfat and his colleagues acted with amazing promptitude. In less than five minutes the Yard Squad had been disbanded and told off to accompany local officers to twenty different places on the Kent Coast; where a 'Mermaid' tavern might prove the key to Lord Gavin's secret rendezvous.

      Wells was left in charge of the Limper while the Superintendent's party hurried off to Canterbury; which he had selected as the most central place for their new headquarters.

      Five minutes after their arrival the little kitchen living room of the cottage was empty again, except for Gregory, Rudd, Wells, the Limper and the two officers who held him.

      Gregory stood there staring at the floor. He was faced once more with an appalling choice of courses and if he selected the wrong one Sabine's life would prove the forfeit.

      With the whole of the Kent constabulary in a ferment of activity there was little doubt that they would discover the new base within the next half hour. A fleet of aeroplanes might land at a quiet spot unobserved upon a normal night but they could not do so with hundreds of police out on the watch for them all over the county. Should he wait until news came in, over the humming telephone wires, which 'Mermaid' Tavern or hotel was the focus for the aeroplane landing; or should he make direct for Quex Park on the assumption that the Limper was lying and Lord Gavin had left Sabine there.

      The more he thought of it the more certain it seemed that if Gavin Fortescue had made his last throw that night he would surely have already arranged to leave the country by one of the returning aeroplanes himself; therefore he would have taken Sabine to the 'Mermaid', wherever that might be, with him.

      How long would the police take to find it? Half an hour, an hour perhaps. By that time it might be too late, or they were lucky enough to arrive before Sabine was murdered and Lord Gavin gone, she would be arrested with the others. Gregory saw clearly now that, somehow, he must find out where the 'Mermaid' was and not only get there, but get there before the police.

      He glanced at Wells. 'Can you spare me a moment outside?'

      The Inspector nodded and followed him from the cottage into the dark, now silent, night.

      'Listen,' said Gregory. 'I want you to do something for me.'

      'What?' asked Wells cautiously.

      'I want you to call your chaps out here and remain with them while I have a word alone with the Limper.'

      'Why?'

      'Never mind why. Rudd can remain there with me. The Limper won't get away from both of us and you'll be outside with your men to pinch him again if he did manage to knock the two of us out.'

      Wells shook his head. 'Sorry, I can't do that. He's under arrest.'

      'You can  and you're darned well going to,' Gregory said with a friendly grin. 'You'll be a made man when this case is over, and, in a few years' time, the youngest Superintendent in the force. You've done a lot to deserve that yourself but you owe it even more to the help I've given you. You remember too the night I jumped out of your aeroplane; risking my neck with that blasted parachute. You promised then you'd give me a break later if I needed it and a few minutes' conversation with the Limper isn't much to ask.'

      'You win,' smiled Wells. 'I'll call the boys out and post them by the windows. In you go.'

      A moment later Gregory was facing the Limper across the kitchen table. Rudd stood, a silent spectator, in the comer.

      'Now,' said Gregory grimly, 'you're going to tell me the place indicated by that phrase "seanymphs hourly ring his knell". I've got no time to waste so be quick about it.'

      "The hell I am!' the Limper sneered.

      Gregory pulled the table to one side. 'Rudd, you'll stay where you are,' he said quietly, 'and see fair play.' Next second his left fist shot out and caught the Limper in the stomach.

      The Limper had already raised his arms to guard his face. He doubled up under the unexpected blow. Gregory's right fist jerked like a piston and catching him on the ear sent him sprawling to the floor.

      'Now, are you going to talk?' rasped Gregory, standing over him.

      For a moment the Limper lay gasping for breath upon the ground. Suddenly he dived for Gregory's legs, clutched him below the knees, and sent him hurtling backwards. But Gregory kicked out as he fell. The Limper lost his hold and the two men rolled in different directions.

      Both staggered to their feet and stood panting angrily as they faced each other. The Limper was much the bigger of the two, but Gregory was far more agile. He feinted, then hit out again, and his fist crunched on the Limper's nose.

      The Limper staggered as water gushed up into his eyes, blinding him momentarily; but he shook his head and charged in like a bull, raining a hail of blows upon his smaller opponent.

      Gregory grabbed at the edge of the table and fell. The Limper came down on top of him and kneed him in the stomach.

      For a second Gregory squirmed under him, white with agony, then he buried both his thumbs in the flesh of the Limper's neck, gave his head a sudden violent twist and rolled from under him.

      Clear of each other, they stumbled up again, bleeding and breathless. The Limper charged but, quick as a cat, Gregory leapt to one side and dealt him a terrific blow on the side of the chin as his head shot forward.

      The floor shook under the weight of the Limper's body as he fell sideways on it. He muttered something then lay there, face downwards, on the boards.

      'Now will you talk,' gasped Gregory. 'If you don't, I'll beat you till you're dead. I've got to know and the life of such scum as you isn't going to stop me.'

      The Limper pulled himself up on to his hands and knees. 'You devil,' he croaked, 'I won't. You can do your damnedest.'

      'You will. I'm going to make you.' As the Limper came rocking to his feet Gregory caught him another frightful blow full in the mouth, sending him crashing backwards into a corner.

      He lay there moaning; blood trickling from his broken nose and the corner of his mouth.

      'Talk, damn you,' shouted Gregory, his eyes blazing. 'If you don't I'll murder you.'

      Groaning, the Limper feebly shook his head.

      Gregory seized him by the collar of his jacket and threw him over on his face. 'All right,' he muttered. 'Rudd, get me that clothes line.'

      Rudd jumped to obey. In spite of the Limper's renewed struggles they soon had his wrists tied tightly together behind, his back with one end of the stout cord. Then, between them, they hauled his heavy body across the floor.

      'Take the other end of the line and put it over that big hook on the door,' Gregory ordered Rudd. 'This bird is going to squeal if I have to break both his arms to make him do it.'