is!’ he exclaimed. ‘He can be Sir Graham Forbes himself, as far as I’m concerned. All I know is, he can certainly organize. A cool forty thousand in three months. Boy, that’s what I call money!’
‘I’m not grumbling!’ replied Skid. ‘I’m just sort of curious, that’s all.’
‘Same ’ere!’ ejaculated Horace. ‘Who the ’ell is the Knave, Doc?’
Dr. Milton began to laugh. ‘You’ll find out my friends. All in good time! All in good time!’
Dixie came back to the matter in hand. ‘I say, Doc, where do you come into this Leamington business? Does Diana…?’
‘As soon as you pass the stuff to Diana, she drives to Warwick. I take it over at Warwick, and get the stuff back here. Horace does the rest. It’ll be in Amsterdam by Saturday.’
‘Any idea what cut we’re going to get out of this?’
‘I’m not sure, Skid,’ the doctor replied. ‘Frobisher’s got a pretty heavy stock. There’s a ring worth £6,000.’
‘Six thousand!’ repeated Skid, almost savouring the words with his tongue.
Dixie whistled. ‘The Knave can certainly pick ’em!’
Suddenly they heard a loud knock. Even the nonchalant Skid jumped.
‘There’s somebody at the panel!’ he whispered, with alarm.
Dr. Milton hastened to reassure him. ‘It’s only Diana.’
‘Blimey!’ was Horace’s comment. ‘You ain’t ’alf jumpy!’
In the far wall, away from the hall door, a panel moved, disclosing an open space. Then a figure appeared, and the four men recognized Diana Thornley. The opening in the wall was about a foot above the floor and some four feet high. Normally, it was completely invisible, effectively camouflaged by the old oak panelling.
Diana Thornley stepped out of the opening, and came towards the waiting men.
‘Sorry I’m late, Doc!’ she apologized. She turned to see Horace Daley closing the panel behind her.
‘No, don’t shut the panel!’
‘Why not?’ asked the doctor.
Quietly, almost with reverence in her voice, Diana answered him. ‘The Chief’s coming!’
‘Here?’ exclaimed Dr. Milton.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh!’ There was a pause. ‘Still I think we’d better shut it,’ he said, and signed to Horace Daley to do so.
‘He’s coming here? The Knave?’ asked Dixie, with surprise.
‘Yes,’ answered Diana. ‘He’s got the Birmingham money. It came through this morning.’
‘Blimey, that’s quick work!’ came from Skid. For the first time the air of bored indifference had fallen from him. He smiled very broadly.
‘Have you given them the Leamington details?’ Diana was speaking to Milton, yet there was a note of authority in her voice.
‘Yes.’
‘How do you feel about it, Skid? Think you can manage the smash all right?’
A smile spread across Skid’s face, and he rubbed his hands.
‘As easy as falling off a log!’
‘Good,’ said Diana, obviously pleased, ‘but we want as much row as possible, remember that!’
‘Sure.’
‘And don’t forget to dash back to the shop, Dixie,’ she continued. ‘There’s bound to be a crowd.’
‘O.K.,’ was the reply. ‘Have you got a list of the stuff?’
Diana opened her handbag. From its capacious depths, she extracted three folded quarto sheets of paper. It was a list of the articles about which they had inquired, complete with their values. She passed it across to Dixie. He looked down the list, page after page.
‘Any good, Dixie?’ inquired Horace somewhat anxiously.
‘Any good,’ repeated Dixie with a wealth of intonation in his voice. ‘Any good—’
At that moment, another knock came from the mysterious panel. It was Horace this time who looked round in alarm. ‘What’s that?’ he asked nervously.
‘It’s the Chief,’ Diana informed him. ‘Open the panel, Doc.’
Dr. Milton walked quickly over to the wall and fingered the oak panelling. Presently the panel began to move.
Dr. Milton stepped forward.
In an impressive voice, he made his announcement.
‘Gentlemen, meet the Knave!’
Absolute astonishment greeted his words. For a few seconds, no one spoke.
‘The Knave, but—’ said Horace Daley at last.
Then they all began to speak at once.
‘I thought you said the Chief was a—’ Skid was not allowed to complete his sentence. Dixie’s amazement made him almost shriek his surprise.
‘But—but this isn’t the Knave!’ he shouted. ‘Why…Why—’
Dr. Milton looked round with satisfaction and amusement.
‘Surprised, gentlemen?’ he asked. ‘Surprised?’
Again he looked round, this time into each of their astonished faces. Then he began to laugh, slowly, deeply.
During the previous summer Paul Temple had spent several months in Holland and he had noticed, with amusement, that on several of the houses miniature windows were fitted into the front doors. Most of the windows were also equipped with stout grills for protection. Now, however, when callers were frequent and newspaper reporters had become an intolerable nuisance, he was beginning to appreciate the advantages of such a device. He summoned carpenters from the nearby village, and much to their astonishment, they found themselves fitting such safety windows in all the doors at Bramley Lodge.
It was no insignificant precaution. Paul Temple fully realized that the Lorraine gang would stop at nothing. They were quite capable of despatching a member to Bramley Lodge and putting a simultaneous end to his investigations and existence.
But
