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Updated: June 12, 2025
The evening papers with the story of the raid were already upon the streets. What would be the effect upon Grell's plans when he learned that Ivan had been captured? In the case of an ordinary criminal, Heldon Foyle might have forecasted what would happen with a fair degree of certainty. But Grell was not an ordinary criminal, even if he were a criminal at all.
Go to the Yard and wait till I come," he said, and, walking swiftly across the room, thrust his arm through that of the new arrival. "You are the man who used to be Mr. Grell's valet," he said quietly in French. "I am a police officer, and you must come with me." The man tried to jerk himself free, but the detective's fingers closed tightly about his wrist.
"I'll repeat it when you like," answered Ivan, squaring his shoulders. "Now you say that you want to prove Mr. Grell's innocent I have nothing to hide. For I am certain that he is innocent." "Tell me one other thing," said the superintendent. "What is the association between Petrovska and Grell? Why should she have taken part in this business?" Ivan spread out his white hands.
Apart from all the other facts, Grell's manner was more than sufficient confirmation of the fact that he was holding something back something vital to the success of the investigation. The superintendent had a very shrewd idea of his reasons. Grell was a strong man a man likely to hold to his own line at all costs. He had already proved that no personal considerations would move him.
Surprise had leapt into Grell's face as the superintendent drily recounted his movements. It was succeeded by a flash of fury at the last words. "Be careful, sir," he said tensely. "You need not lie to me." "It is the simple truth. Lady Eileen got a note from you asking for money. She had none, and her father was out, so she signed a cheque in his name and cashed it personally."
The supposition that you were being blackmailed was borne out by inquiries made for us by Pinkerton's, which proved that Goldenburg had visited you several times and that he was always in funds after he left you, however low he might be before. I think it is a fair inference." "Quite fair." Grell's face was a little drawn, but he spoke quietly. "You are quite correct, Mr. Foyle.
"I can't say, I'm sure. He met me here for dinner at seven and has been here since." He hung up the receiver viciously. He had not expected to have to lie to Grell's fiancée when he had promised not to disclose his friend's absence from the club. It was too bad of Grell. His eye met the clock, and with a start he realised that it was a few minutes to eleven o'clock.
He brought a little standard lamp closer, and under its rays studied the two sets of prints closely. He did not need a magnifying-glass to see that none of Grell's finger-marks agreed with the two that were clear on the dagger. Grell leaned back in his chair as though the matter were one of complete indifference to him. "Does that satisfy you, Mr. Foyle?" he asked at last.
He had fallen in with Grell's mood for many reasons, but he chuckled to himself as he made the polite suggestion of handcuffs. Grell did not seem to mind. His self-possession was wonderful. Foyle reflected that it might be reaction the man was possibly glad the tension was over. "By all means, if it will make you easier," he said.
A little apprehensive shudder swept through Grell's frame. His lips opened to say something, but he checked himself suddenly. "What's that to do with me?" he demanded quietly. "A great deal, if it's true, as I know it to be. Now, Mr.
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