"If you can go on like this," he said, "you will have no reason to regret joining us. I can use someone like you; especially . . ."
He turned slowly round as a muffled groan interrupted him. Lauber turned also. They all looked at Palermo, who was sitting up with one hand holding his jaw and the other clasping the back of his head.
". . . especially as there will be some vacancies in the organisation," Graner said corrosively.
Palermo stared up at them, his face grey and pasty, while the meaning of his position was borne in upon him and he made a desperate effort to drag some reply out of his numbed and aching brain. Lauber drew a deep breath, and his under lip jutted savagely. He took three steps across the room and grasped Palermo's coat lapels in one of his big-boned hands, dragging him almost to his feet and shaking him like a rag doll.
"You dirty little double-crossing rat!" he snarled.
Palermo struggled feebly in the big man's savage grip.
"What have I done?" he demanded shrilly. "You can't say that to me. He's the guy who's double-crossing us-Tombs! Why don't you do something about him --"
Lauber drew back his free fist and knocked Palermo spinning with a brutal blow on the mouth.
"Say that again, you louse," he grated. "Last night you were trying to make out I was double-crossing you. Now it's Tombs. It 'll be Graner next."
Simon put his hands in his pockets and made himself comfortable against the door, prepared to miss none of the riper gorgeousness of Lauber's display of righteous indignation. The spectacle of the ungodly falling out with one another could have diverted him for some time; but Reuben Graner intervened.
"That will do, Lauber," he said in his soft, evil voice. "Have you anything to say, Palermo?"
"It's a frame-up!" panted the Italian. "Tombs came here and beat me up --"
"Did you have Joris and another man here?"
"I never saw them!"
"Tombs-and Maria-saw them here."
"They're lying."
"Then how do you explain the ropes on the bed? And why did you bring Tombs here? And why were you going to torture Tombs?"
Palermo swallowed, but no words came from his throat for a full half minute.
"I can explain," he began, and then the words dried up again before the concentrated malignity of Graner's gaze.
"You have taken a long time to think of your explanation," Graner said coldly. "We will see if you have anything better to say at the house. If not-I fear that we shall not miss you very much. . . ."
He turned to Lauber.
"Take him down to the car."
Palermo gasped, hesitated, and made a sudden bolt for the door. But the hesitation lost him any chance he might have had. Lauber caught him by the coat and wrapped his arms round him in a bear hug in which Palermo writhed and kicked as futilely as a child. Palermo got one hand to the coat pocket where he had once had a gun; and when he found it empty he let out one short squeal of terror like a trapped rabbit.
Simon picked up the cord that had been cut away from his own wrists, and sorted out enough of it to tie Palermo's hands behind his back, while Lauber kept hold of him.
"Aliston may be coming back here," he remarked, as he went through to the bedroom to fetch one of the gags which had been left there.
"I had thought of that." Graner held the knob of his slender cane between his thumb and forefinger and swung it like a pendulum. "They took the other car when they went out."
"They brought me here in a car-wasn't it outside when you arrived?"
"No."
"Aliston must have taken it, then."
"Where was he going?"
"I gathered that he was going to look for Christine. Anyway, that was the excuse."
"Did he know where to look?"
Simon busied himself with carefully packing the last square inches of the dishcloth into Palermo's mouth.
He could estimate just how hopeful a chance Aliston had-in Santa Cruz, the stand to which a taxi is allotted can be identified from the number, and business is not so brisk that a driver forgets his fares quickly. Given the number of the cab, which he knew Aliston had got, it would only be a matter of time before the chauffeur was located; and from then on the trail would be as easy to follow as if it had been blazed in luminous paint. The Saint dared not think how much time had slipped away since Aliston left; somehow, before much more of it had elapsed, he had got to find a way to ditch Graner and Lauber and leave himself free to tackle that problem. And yet Lauber was the one man in Santa Cruz to whom the Saint wanted to talk-but in private.
"I think he's wasting his time," answered the Saint confidently. "I got back to the hotel in a taxi, just before Aliston and Palermo caught me, and Aliston got the number. But I changed taxis a couple of times, with a walk in between, so he's got a long hunt in front of him. When he finds the scent doesn't lead anywhere he'll probably be back. I'll wait for him if you like."
Graner thought for a moment, and then nodded.
"Yes, you had better do that. Lauber can wait with you in case he gives any trouble."
Lauber stopped on his way to the door.
"I can't stay here," he said loudly; and Graner looked at him.
"Why not?"
"Because-well, what are you going to do with Palermo by yourself?"
"Take him back to the house."
"You've got to drive the car."
"Palermo is tied up and gagged. He will give no trouble. If he tried to, he would regret it."
"I can clip him over the head again if you like," suggested the Saint helpfully.
"That is quite unnecessary. Manoel is still waiting in the square, and I can pick him up. Since you have removed Christine there is no further need for him to remain there."
Lauber thrust out his heavy jaw.
"Well, I still think it's all wrong"
"Are you disputing my orders?" Graner inquired purringly.
He had his right hand in his pocket again, and his voice had the soft rustle of satin. Lauber glowered at him blackly for several seconds with his fist clenched and his mouth jammed up like a trap; but his gaze wavered before the bright menace of Graner's eyes.
Simon's imagination raced away again-with the domination he had established over Graner, he might still be able to bring about a change of plan. But he certainly wanted Palermo out of the way, and he wasn't very frightened of what Palermo might say to Graner when they were alone. Manoel would doubtless be making his report sooner or later, anyhow; and it didn't much matter if it was a little sooner. Simon wasn't convinced that they would try to do anything about Joris on the spot, with Palermo on their hands; besides, an abduction would take a certain time to get organised, and they still had to locate Joris' room. Meanwhile the Saint did want to talk to Lauber. It was a matter of timing by split seconds and balancing arguments without the weight of a flake of ash to choose between them, but Simon had spent his life betting on snap decisions.
"Don't be a fool, Lauber," he said encouragingly. "We don't want two of us off duty looking after Palermo while there's Aliston to be taken care of."
Lauber seemed as though he was about to make another protest. Graner laid his stick on the table and picked his perfumed silk handkerchief out of his breast pocket to fan it gently under his nose, and his bright little eyes never shifted from the other's face.
"All right!" Lauber gritted savagely. His sullen stare switched momentarily on to the Saint. "But if anything goes wrong it's no good blaming me."
He yanked Palermo round and shoved him roughly out of the door; and Graner put away his handkerchief and picked up his cane. Simon followed him out of the room.
"If Aliston comes back you will use his car to bring him back to the house," Graner said as they went down the stairs. "If I have not heard from you in a reasonable time I shall send further instructions."
Outside, it was still raining. They stood in the doorway and watched Lauber bundle Palermo into the back of the car. It caused no commotion. The inhabitants of the street slept in the daytime, and any chance passers-by there might have been had been driven to cover by the torrential storm. As soon as Lauber had settled the cargo and stepped back, Graner scuttled across the twelve-inch pavement and wriggled into the driving seat. The car swished away through the rivulets that bubbled between the cobblestones.