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Updated: May 18, 2025
Foyle rose and touched him gently on the shoulder. "Yes, then?" "The room was only dimly lit, sir, and I could see that he was lying on the couch, rather awkwardly, his face turned from me. I thought he might have dozed off, and I went into the room and touched him on the shoulder. My hand came away wet!" His voice rose to a scream. "It was blood blood everywhere and he with a knife in his heart."
"Take those handcuffs off. You may go, Mr. Abramovitch." The Russian stood motionless, as though not understanding. Foyle wheeled about as though the whole matter had been dismissed from his mind, and caught Norman by the sleeve. "Drop everything," he said in a curt whisper. "Take a couple of men and don't let that man out of your sight for an instant.
"I'll do this myself, Jo," he whispered to the girl presently. "Go into another room. I'll bring him here." In another minute Goatry was leading the horse away from the post-office, while Foyle stood waiting quietly at the door. The departing footsteps of the horse brought Halbeck swiftly to the doorway, with a letter in his hand.
Can't you see, Ivan came out and that Waverley never had time to give the tip to his man, but followed him straight away? There ought to have been three men on the job." Green drew himself up stiffly. Foyle had not recovered from the irritation caused by his own mistake, otherwise he would not have spoken as he did. Green was not the kind of man to hastily jump to conclusions.
That he preferred the dock was proof of the strength of the motive which actuated him. No amount of persuasion, Foyle knew, would make him open his lips. Disgrace by the fear of a public trial had failed to move him. If he was to be induced to tell his secret it must be by strategy. Heldon Foyle held his own code of ethics in his profession.
A broad-shouldered man with side whiskers, who was writing at a desk, looked up as they entered. "Good morning, Mr. Norman," said Foyle. "This gentleman wants to tell me something about the Grell case. Just give him a chair, will you, and send in a shorthand writer who understands French to take a statement."
Can you suggest any steps we can take?" Foyle banged his fist viciously on his desk. "There! We're not the only people who have made blunders to-day, Green. Look at that. Wire to them a full description of this woman Petrovska, and tell 'em to detain her if they come across her. We charge her with administering a noxious drug, and that'll hold her safe till we get the business cleared up.
"If you want to give any explanation before I formally charge you, you may. Only don't forget that anything you say may be used in evidence against you." "Is it an offence to go to a fancy-dress ball in a police officer's uniform?" asked the prisoner. "Because if it is, I shall plead guilty." "You can make that defence if you like if you think it will be believed," retorted Foyle.
He knew something of Red Ike's methods, and felt certain that some proposal was coming. He could see the gratitude of Foyle taking some tangible form if he were able to bring this off. He had no scruples. Even if Ike suspected treachery after the event well, he could look after himself. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head doubtfully. "It isn't like a lonely suburban street." Ike grinned.
You know the kind of thing." "Yes, I know," agreed Foyle, with a smile and a glance at the waiting boats. "Well, it's nice weather. Green and I are just going off with Wrington. There's some question of increasing the river staff, and we've got to go into it." Jerrold nodded as gravely as though he quite accepted the explanation.
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