There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. ‘You were right, miss. All this was the work of a minute. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. You, sir,” he added, turning to Brendon, “had better take my card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady.
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