Roger smiled. “Yes, you’re right.” He looked at Lois reassuringly. “It will all work out well. We’re far more interested in finding these people and stopping their crimes.”
Lois looked more rested.
Before he looked at the list, Roger said :
“There’s just one thing. While Malone is free—”
“I’ve talked to her about that,” Tennant said; “this afternoon you said the safest place for her would be a police- cell, didn’t you? Malone can’t get into one of those! Well, Lois agrees!”
Lois nodded.
“You couldn’t have made a wiser decision,” said Roger.
He did not know how Tennant had made the girl feel that it was safe to trust the police. She did not protest, nor did she try to stipulate any conditions.
Before going to Mark, who was still on the phone to the Yard, and taking over from him, he ran his eye down the list of names and addresses which Lois had dictated to Tennant, thinking that it would probably be enough to break the case wide open. The last entry but one made him start and look up eagerly into her eyes.
“Oliphant — Mortimer Oliphant, at Cheyne Walk, Chelsea?”
“Yes,” said Lois, quietly.
“Did you ever go there with stolen jewels?”
“No — only with messages about men whom Pickerell knew. He was the Society’s legal adviser, but these weren’t Society problems. Pickerell always saw him alone.” She hesitated. “I rather liked Mr Oliphant. He was always very friendly.”
“Oh, yes, he would be,” Roger said, “he would be very friendly indeed!”
Mark came back like a man with good tidings, but suddenly deflated when he learned that Lois had already given the information.
Roger felt on edge, in spite of the way the case was shaping. He wanted to see Oliphant, to report his discoveries, and to make sure that Lois was absolutely safe. He realised that few bad men had made such an impression on him as Malone. He did not feel sure that the short journey to the Yard could be negotiated safely and he went out, to see Pep Morgan’s men and the two police who were watching the hotel. They assured him that nothing suspicious had happened. He sent one of the police back to the Yard to get a car.
The policeman took the wheel.
Tennant had been persuaded, with some difficulty, to stay behind. Mark had accepted the inevitable with commendable fortitude, but Janet would have her hands full with the two men.
Lois was very quiet; at least she did not seem to share any of his fears.
As they turned into Parliament Square, he said :
“We won’t be long, now.”
Lois spoke quietly, unexpectedly using his first name.
“Roger, I — don’t know how to thank you. Those tablets were powerful.”
“Forget it,” Roger said. “I have.” As he spoke he realised what a fool he was, how the spectre of Malone and the dazzling prospect of outwitting Oliphant had driven other thoughts from his mind. “That is, I’d forgotten you were going to take them,” he amended hastily. “Where did you get them from, Lois ?”
“Pickerell,” she said.
“You know what’s in them ?”
“Yes,” she said. “Cyanide.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “Did he tell you what was in them?”
“No,” said Lois, “I took some from a bottle he kept in a cupboard. He always had them by him. I’ve heard him say that he would rather die than be caught. I felt the same, so I took them.”
“How did you know what was in them?” Roger asked.
“He once told Malone in my hearing.”
Roger wished he could understand why she had been quite so determined to keep silent. She must have realised the gravity of the situation. Time and time again she had been compelled to face up to it, and yet until almost the last she had refused to speak. Then, for the first time, he wondered whether she had told all the truth. He was going to assure Chatworth that she had, meant to use his influence to make sure that she was not victimised. But could there be something else?
He was uneasy when he walked up the steps of the Yard and yet he did and said nothing to give Lois an inkling of his doubts. Although it was late, he took her to Abbott’s office. He wished some other Superintendent were in charge. Surprisingly, however, Abbott greeted her without a fuss, listened to the story, and then spoke reassuringly. Perhaps Abbott understood something of the nervous strain on the girl, and the importance of what might come from it. At all events, the man did nothing to make Lois regret her decision. Less than an hour afterwards, Roger took her across the dark square and through the gates to Cannon Row, where she was housed in one of the rooms, not a cell. Roger saw her smile, and could not believe that she had deceived him, yet he still remained uneasy.
Only when he was back in Abbott’s office did he realise that his anxiety about Malone’s actions had, for once, been unjustified.
Then he told Abbott about Mortimer Oliphant.
CHAPTER 20
Janet Delivers News of Importance
“WHAT DO you suggest we do, West?” asked Abbott.
“I don’t think we should act too quickly, do you?” Roger said. Abbott shook his head. “We’ve this list of names to investigate and when we’ve interviewed each man we should have a better idea of what it’s all about.”
Abbott looked surprised.
“The disposal of stolen goods, surely ?”
“Only that?” asked Roger.
“Do you think there’s something else?”
“They’ve gone pretty far for simple fencing,” Roger pointed out. “I think we ought to keep an open mind.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Theorising isn’t going to help much, but Pickerell wouldn’t keep tablets of cyanide of potassium handy because he was afraid of being picked up for trafficking in looted goods.”
“No,” admitted Abbott, “I had missed the significance of that.”
“And I think it knocks out the more straightforward crimes,” Roger went on. “It could be espionage very carefully hidden.”
“You’ve no hard and fast ideas?”
“I wish I had. All I feel is that it’s something of exceptional size. Malone’s gang, Oliphant, the Society — suggesting something which had been working for nearly three years — the murder of Joe Leech and, probably, that of Mrs Cox — add these things together and you have a formidable business, which no ordinary motive will account for.”
Abbott pressed the tips of his thin fingers together, admitting :
“I am inclined to agree.”
“And, of course, the Society is of primary importance,”, Roger said. “I wish I were more sure of Mrs Cartier. Perhaps she got in touch with me for some ulterior motive of her own and hasn’t told me all the truth. Have you had reports on her and her husband ?”
“Yes,” said Abbott. He pushed a file across. “Read the reports — there’s no hurry.”
The office, on the third floor of the Yard, was very quiet as Roger read through the report on Mrs Cartier. She was of French birth but had become a naturalised Englishwoman in 1946 — the year before her marriage to Sylvester Cartier. Daughter of a wealthy Lyons merchant, she had been educated in England for several years. She had been one of the first to offer hospitality to refugees from the iron curtain countries. According to the report, she had first thought of the League of European Relief when she had been approached by some East Germans of the professional classes. There were many cases of hardship. She had helped them and then extended her activities. The Society had been in being for a little more than a year and it had a great deal in its favour. Wealthy Europeans in England and on the Continent had contributed towards the funds. Apparently Mrs Cartier did most of the canvassing for money herself. There was nothing surprising in the fact that she obtained good results — most men would have found the way from their hearts to their pockets after a visit from Mrs Sylvester Cartier!