Dimly he could hear Innes speaking. He half-turned, raised the
pistol, and knew a sudden intense pain at the back of his skull.
A thousand lights seemed suddenly to split the darkness. He felt
himself sinking into an apparently bottomless pit.
CHAPTER XX. CONFLICTING CLUBS
"Any news, Wessex?" asked Innes, eagerly, starting up from his
chair as the inspector entered the office.
Wessex shook his head, and sitting down took out and lighted a
cigarette.
"News of a sort," he replied, slowly, "but nothing of any value,
I am afraid. My assistant, Stokes, has distinguished himself."
"In what way?" asked Innes, dully, dropping back into his chair.
These were trying days for the indefatigable secretary. Believing
that some clue of importance might come to light at any hour of
the day or night he remained at the chambers in Chancery Lane,
sleeping nightly in the spare room.
"Well," continued the inspector, "I had detailed him to watch
Nicol Brinn, but my explicit instructions were that Nicol Brinn
was not to be molested in any way."
"What happened?"
"To-night Nicol Brinn had a visitor--possibly a valuable witness.
Stokes, like an idiot, allowed her to slip through his fingers
and tried to arrest Brinn!"
"What? Arrest him!" cried Innes.
"Precisely. But I rather fancy," added the inspector, grimly,
"that Mr. Stokes will think twice before taking leaps like that
in the dark again.
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