I want facts. I want plain speaking. I ask you for
help and you answer in parables. Now perhaps I am saying too
much, and perhaps I am not, but that Mr. Harley was right in what
he believed, the circumstances of his present disappearance go to
prove. He learned too much about something called Fire-Tongue."
Wessex spoke the word challengingly, staring straight into the
eyes of Nicol Brinn, but the latter gave no sign, and Wessex,
concealing his disappointment, continued: "You know more about
Fire-Tongue than you ever told Mr. Paul Harley. All you know I
have got to know. Mr. Harley has been kidnapped, perhaps done to
death."
"Why do you say so?" asked Nicol Brinn, rapidly.
"Because I know it is so. It does not matter how I know."
"You are certain that his absence is not voluntary?"
"We have definite evidence to that effect."
"I don't expect you to be frank with me, Detective Inspector, but
I'll be as frank with you as I can be. I haven't the slightest
idea in the world where Mr. Harley is. But I have information
which, if I knew where he was, would quite possibly enable me to
rescue him."
"Provided he is alive!" added Wessex, angrily.
"What leads you to suppose that he is not?"
"If he is alive, he is a prisoner."
"Good God!" said Nicol Brinn in a low voice. "It has come." He
took a step toward the detective. "Mr. Wessex," he continued, "I
don't tell you to do whatever your duty indicates; I know you
will do it.
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