use more of it than most
people. But that’s a side line. I also deliver justice. When you get to Dartmoor, you’ll
meet some other men that I’ve sent there. Ask them about it. And then you in your turn will be able to tell
the same story.”
The voice
of Chief Inspector Teal blared short-windedly in his ear.
“Yes
?”
“Oh,
Claud? How’s the old tum-tum getting—— … All right, if it’s a sore subject; but I wondered— .
. . Yes, of course I have. Just a
minute. Did you get six, fourteen, and twenty-seven
?” Simon listened, and the contentment ripened on his face. “Well, didn’t I tell you ? And
now you can have some more for the bag. At any time after nine o’clock
there’s going to be a perfect stampede of
blokes asking for Miracle Tea, so you
can send your squad back for more. They’d better take over the shop and grab
everyone who tries to buy Miracle
Tea. And while they’re doing that I’ve got the Big Shot waiting for you. Come and get him. The address is —— Excuse me.”
The Saint
had the telephone in one hand and a gun in the other, and it seemed impossible
for him to have done it, but a narrow-bladed ivory-hilted knife stuck
quivering in the desk half an inch from the Baron’s fingers as they slid
towards a
concealed bell. And the Saint went on talking as if nothing had happened.
“Sixteen
North Ashley Street, Berkeley Square; and the name is Inescu… . Yes, isn’t
that a coincidence ? But there’s all the evidence you’ll need to make you
happy, so I don’t see why you should complain. Come along over and I’ll show
you.”
“I’ll
send someone over,” Teal said stiffly. “And thanks very
much.”
Simon
frowned a little.
“Why
send someone?” he objected. “I thought—”
“Because
I’m busy!” came a tortured howl that nearly shattered the
receiver. “I can’t leave the office just now. I—I’ll have to send
someone.”
The
Saint’s eyebrows slowly lifted.
“But why ?” he persisted.
Eventually
Mr Teal told him.
XIII
S IMON TEMPLAR sat on
the desk in Chief Inspector Teal’s office a fortnight later. The police court
proceedings had just
concluded after a remand, and Baron Inescu, alias Henry Osbett, had been committed for trial in company
with some three dozen smaller cogs in his machine. The report was in the
evening paper which Simon had bought, and he pointed it out to Teal accusingly.
“At
least you could have rung me up and thanked me again for making you
look like a great detective,” he said.
Mr Teal
stripteased a slice of chewing gum and fed it into his mouth. “I’m
sorry,” he said. “I meant to do it, but there was a lot of clearing-up work
to do on the case. Anyway, it’s out of my
hands now, and the Public Prosecutor is pretty satisfied. It’s a pity there
wasn’t enough direct evidence to charge Inescu with the murder of Nancock, but
we haven’t done badly.”
“You’re
looking pretty cheerful,” said the Saint.
This was
true. Mr Teal’s rosy face had a fresh pink glow, and his cherubic blue
eyes were clear and bright under his sleepily drooping lids.
“I’m
feeling better,” he said. “You know, that’s the thing that
really beats me about this case. Inescu could have made a fortune
out of Miracle Tea without ever going in for espionage —— ”
The Saint’s
mouth fell open.
“You
don’t mean to say—— ” he ejaculated, and couldn’t go on. He
said: “But I thought you were ready to chew the blood out of everyone
who had anything to do with Miracle Tea, if you could only have got away
from—— ”
“I
know it was rather drastic,” Teal said sheepishly. “But it did the
trick. Do you know, I haven’t had a single attack of indigestion since
I took that packet; and I even had roast pork for dinner last
night!”
Simon
Templar drew a long deep breath and closed his eyes. There were times when even he felt
that he was stand ing on holy ground.
PART 2: THE
people. But that’s a side line. I also deliver justice. When you get to Dartmoor, you’ll
meet some other men that I’ve sent there. Ask them about it. And then you in your turn will be able to tell
the same story.”
The voice
of Chief Inspector Teal blared short-windedly in his ear.
“Yes
?”
“Oh,
Claud? How’s the old tum-tum getting—— … All right, if it’s a sore subject; but I wondered— .
. . Yes, of course I have. Just a
minute. Did you get six, fourteen, and twenty-seven
?” Simon listened, and the contentment ripened on his face. “Well, didn’t I tell you ? And
now you can have some more for the bag. At any time after nine o’clock
there’s going to be a perfect stampede of
blokes asking for Miracle Tea, so you
can send your squad back for more. They’d better take over the shop and grab
everyone who tries to buy Miracle
Tea. And while they’re doing that I’ve got the Big Shot waiting for you. Come and get him. The address is —— Excuse me.”
The Saint
had the telephone in one hand and a gun in the other, and it seemed impossible
for him to have done it, but a narrow-bladed ivory-hilted knife stuck
quivering in the desk half an inch from the Baron’s fingers as they slid
towards a
concealed bell. And the Saint went on talking as if nothing had happened.
“Sixteen
North Ashley Street, Berkeley Square; and the name is Inescu… . Yes, isn’t
that a coincidence ? But there’s all the evidence you’ll need to make you
happy, so I don’t see why you should complain. Come along over and I’ll show
you.”
“I’ll
send someone over,” Teal said stiffly. “And thanks very
much.”
Simon
frowned a little.
“Why
send someone?” he objected. “I thought—”
“Because
I’m busy!” came a tortured howl that nearly shattered the
receiver. “I can’t leave the office just now. I—I’ll have to send
someone.”
The
Saint’s eyebrows slowly lifted.
“But why ?” he persisted.
Eventually
Mr Teal told him.
XIII
S IMON TEMPLAR sat on
the desk in Chief Inspector Teal’s office a fortnight later. The police court
proceedings had just
concluded after a remand, and Baron Inescu, alias Henry Osbett, had been committed for trial in company
with some three dozen smaller cogs in his machine. The report was in the
evening paper which Simon had bought, and he pointed it out to Teal accusingly.
“At
least you could have rung me up and thanked me again for making you
look like a great detective,” he said.
Mr Teal
stripteased a slice of chewing gum and fed it into his mouth. “I’m
sorry,” he said. “I meant to do it, but there was a lot of clearing-up work
to do on the case. Anyway, it’s out of my
hands now, and the Public Prosecutor is pretty satisfied. It’s a pity there
wasn’t enough direct evidence to charge Inescu with the murder of Nancock, but
we haven’t done badly.”
“You’re
looking pretty cheerful,” said the Saint.
This was
true. Mr Teal’s rosy face had a fresh pink glow, and his cherubic blue
eyes were clear and bright under his sleepily drooping lids.
“I’m
feeling better,” he said. “You know, that’s the thing that
really beats me about this case. Inescu could have made a fortune
out of Miracle Tea without ever going in for espionage —— ”
The Saint’s
mouth fell open.
“You
don’t mean to say—— ” he ejaculated, and couldn’t go on. He
said: “But I thought you were ready to chew the blood out of everyone
who had anything to do with Miracle Tea, if you could only have got away
from—— ”
“I
know it was rather drastic,” Teal said sheepishly. “But it did the
trick. Do you know, I haven’t had a single attack of indigestion since
I took that packet; and I even had roast pork for dinner last
night!”
Simon
Templar drew a long deep breath and closed his eyes. There were times when even he felt
that he was stand ing on holy ground.
PART 2: THE
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