He nodded.
"Of course I know. But that was Lauber's story, and from what I've heard he's sticking to it. Didn't you hear Graner say that he'd put a man to watch the shop where the ticket came from, in case anybody tried to cash it?"
Talking about Graner reminded the Saint that he had put Graner's drink down when he went out to Hoppy's room. He fetched it and returned to the bed.
"What else did they say about it?" she asked.
"Nothing. The subject was dropped when I walked in. Reuben asked me a lot of questions, and ended up by telling me that I wasn't to come back here. I don't think he suspected me, but he just didn't want me knocking around Santa Cruz where I might hear too much or talk too much. I argued about it, but I had to stay."
He told her about his other experiences the night before, about the story he had read in the newspaper at breakfast, and about the introduction to his duties which had followed, talking in the same crisp, vivid phrases that smacked home every vital detail like bullets; until he reached the point where he had walked into the room with Graner and found her there.
"You know the rest," he said.
"But where is Joris?"
"Tell me what you know."
"I awakened rather late," she said. "About ten o'clock I went and listened at the door, but I couldn't hear anything, and I didn't want to disturb them if they were still asleep. I couldn't hear anything in your room, either. I got dressed and sent for some breakfast, and presently I went back again. I still couldn't hear anything, so I knocked on the door. They didn't answer. I went on knocking until I got scared and opened the door. There wasn't anyone there. I rushed back here, and when you didn't answer either I came in. I saw that your bed hadn't been slept in, and I simply flopped. It was only a moment or two before you came in. That's why I was sitting on your bed. I just went weak in the knees and couldn't stand up for a bit. I didn't know what to think or what to do."
"Don't you know what to think now?" said the Saint reluctantly.
He found her touching his hand.
"But Graner said they hadn't found Joris."
"They haven't-so far as he knows," said the Saint. "But remember what I told you about Lauber. A thing like that spreads, once it starts."
"But do you know?"
"I know this. Hoppy sent for breakfast this morning, before you were awake. I'd told him not to open the door to anybody, but I suppose he didn't think he was meant to starve. He didn't see any harm in having breakfast. The chambermaid brought it; but another guy who answers to Aliston's description met her at the door and said he wanted to take it in for a joke. Probably he gave her some money to make the joke seem funnier. She let him do it. He was wearing a white waiter's coat, and Hoppy wouldn't have thought anything of it. Aliston could easily have cracked Hoppy over the back of the head with something; and once Hoppy was out, Joris wouldn't have given them any trouble."
Her fingers tightened over his.
"You ought to have let me stay with him," she whispered.
"It wouldn't have done any good if they'd taken you at the same time."
"I could have looked after him. . . . But why didn't they take me?"
"Because they didn't know. Joris came in with Hoppy last night, and you came in with me some time afterwards. They'd have been asking for you first, and that night porter is so dumb that he wouldn't have connected the two. He didn't even know that Hoppy and I had any connection. Probably they expected to find you with Joris, anyhow. When they didn't find you, they probably didn't want to waste any more time looking for you. Graner was waiting for them to call him, and as far as they were concerned Joris and Hoppy were the important people. So I guess they left it at that."
She was silent for quite a long while, but no more tears came into her eyes. He could guess what she must be feeling, but she gave no outward sign. There was an inward strength in her which he had still not measured completely. When she looked at him again, she had herself completely under control.
"So you think Aliston and Palermo have joined up with Lauber to double-cross Graner?"
"I don't think that for a minute. I think it was just that suspecting Lauber put the idea into their heads. And if they were out to do any double-crossing, why should they cut Lauber in? Why not keep it all to themselves? They've got Joris now, and they'll start by trying to find out something about the ticket from him and Hoppy. If the trail turns back to Lauber again, they'll go after him."
"And what about Graner?"
"He may start getting some suspicions of his own, and if he does he'll do something about them. It's just an open competition to see who can do the fastest and smartest double-crossing."
"How much are you doing?"
The Saint met her eyes steadily over his cigarette.
"Now you're coming to that drink I gave you," he said.
He gave her a full account of his conversation with Graner after she had gone to sleep, leaving nothing out. She was watching him all the time, but his recital never faltered.
"I couldn't have got off a quarter of that in front of you," he said. "You can see that, can't you? As far as Graner's concerned, you've got no reason to trust me any more than you'd trust the rest of his gang; so apart from everything else, I had to put you out before he began to wonder why you kept so quiet when I was talking."
"So you told him that you were going to tell me just about what you've told me now-to try and make me think you were on my side?"
He nodded without hesitation.
"Yes."
3 "I think I'm well enough to smoke a cigarette," she said.
He gave her one, and a light. She went on looking at him, with detached and contemplative brown eyes. He knew that he was being weighed in the balance, and knew just how much there was against him at the other end of the scales. It was even more than he had to overcome when he made the original suggestion to Graner; but he faced the ordeal without a trace of anxiety. Whichever way the verdict was fated to fall, so let it be.
"Do you think Graner believed you?" she asked noncommittally.
"I'm hoping so. At all events, he acted as if he did. And there's no reason why he shouldn't. He thinks I'm intending to work for him; he thinks I value my share in his other boodle more than a difference in my share of the ticket; he knows nothing against me, he's got my passport --"
"Your passport?"
"Yes. He asked for it, just for insurance, so I gave it to him to keep him happy. It's quite a good one, but I've got plenty more-only he doesn't know that. . . . Maybe he has some suspicions about me-I don't know-but the worst you can call them is suspicions. So long as he hasn't any proof, it doesn't make much odds. I've got the bulge."
She said: "Do you think I believe you?"
He moved his shoulders in the faintest sketch of a shrug.
"I'm waiting for you to tell me, Christine."
She turned her cigarette in the ash tray, making random patterns in the ash. For a while she didn't give him an answer.
Then she looked at him again, and he realised that the detachment had gone from her eyes. He would have liked a brush and palette and canvas, and the time and talent to capture the tilt of her chin and the expressive arch of her brows. He had been aware of her beauty from the first moment he saw her, but he had not felt it so deeply before now. And yet her conscious parade of it had some of the pathetic simplicity of a child; and it was with the same childish simplicity that she said: "Don't you think I could give you more than Graner ever could?"
He tried not to look too much at the soft curve of her lips and the elusive temptation of her eyes.
"He's not very beautiful, is he?" he said lightly.
"I'm beautiful."
The sheer silk of her dress brought out the lines of her long slender legs as she swung them off the bed. She stood over him, her hands resting on her hips; the silk clung to her waist and moulded the pattern of her firm young breasts. She was all young desire, infinitely desirable. . . . He did not want to think about that.