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Updated: June 12, 2025
Grell is not dead," retorted the detective smoothly. "Yes, I know that." He counted the rough-and-tumble but little against the fact that the Russian had now admitted that he knew it was not Grell's body that had been found in the study. Here was a starting-point at last. "What I want now," he went on slowly, "is an explanation of how you came to have possession of these."
Grell's movements were pretty well chronicled in the American Press at that time, and it is at any rate conceivable that Goldenburg went there with the express intention of meeting him. More than that, Grell was staying at the Waldorf Astoria in New York two years ago.
He walked across the room, picked up a magazine, and sat down, again facing his prisoner, while he idly turned over the pages. Presently Grell's head drooped forward. He was asleep. The hours dragged wearily with Foyle. The soft breathing of the sleeping man as he rested with his head pillowed on his arms was the only sound that broke the stillness of the night.
And if so, might not Robert Grell's hiding-place have been betrayed? Her heartbeats became unsteady. What if the visit of the detectives down the river had been not to identify a drowned corpse, but a living prisoner? Suppose Grell were already in their hands? She jumped to her feet. The watch on her wrist spoke to quarter to eleven. Her reflections had occupied many hours.
I have them sent over to me by a friend direct from Havana." All the while he was speaking he was scrutinising the man who had been Grell's valet with deliberate care. Ivan was sleek and well-groomed, with a dark face and prominent cheekbones that betrayed his Caucasian origin.
He caught at his breath once or twice and his temples flamed scarlet. "Speak plainly now!" he cried hoarsely. "What are you hinting at?" Slowly Heldon Foyle began to tear the sheet of paper bearing Grell's finger-marks into minute fragments. He was calm, inscrutable. "I thought I made myself clear," he replied.
Let's hear all about it," he said, diving into his pocket for the inevitable cigar. "It's all fixed up. Ike walks into the place with Grell's keys at eight o'clock to-night, while Freddy keeps watch outside " "And some one keeps an eye on Freddy, if I'm any judge. Go on. Who put Ike up to it?" "He won't say. He's as tight as a drum about all that, according to Freddy.
I suppose she was really infatuated with Grell. You never know how women are going to take things. I wonder if I can get a set of his finger-prints. That ought to settle the matter one way or the other, so far as he is concerned. But it won't clear up what Goldenburg was doing in Grell's place. I'll have to fix that somehow."
The only plausible motive for Grell's actions, if he was not guilty himself and that we are fairly certain of was his desire to shield some one else. There could be only one person for whom he was willing to make such a sacrifice Lady Eileen Meredith." "Yes, I understand that. But the finger-prints on the warning?" "They puzzled me for a while. But that was made clear when I talked to Ivan.
The superintendent felt all his fighting qualities rise. He was determined to break down the other's wall of imperturbability. He accepted Grell's silence as a challenge. Thornton's gentle, cultured voice broke in. "We are only anxious to spare you as much as possible. You are a prominent man, and though you must be brought in, it will serve no purpose to increase what will create enough scandal."
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