POLTAVO STRIKES
It was half-past nine when T. B. sent and received the last message;
and an hour later he had interviewed the Commissioner.
"Get your lady away all right?" his chief greeted him.
"Well away, sir," said T. B. serenely. "Out of reach of Poltavo--his
agents were watching the flat--there was a burglary there the very
night the book arrived."
"And the lady?"
"She is due in Jamaica in a few days."
"And now----"
T. B. told the story of the developments.
The Commissioner nodded from time to time.
"You're an ingenious young man," he said. "One of these fine days
somebody will badly want your blood."
"It has often happened," T. B. granted.
He sat over a companionable cigar and a whisky and soda, talking
until the hands of the clock were near on midnight; then he rose to
take his leave.
"You will leave for Spain to-morrow?" asked the chief.
"Yes; by the first train. I shall take Van Ingen with me; he speaks
Spanish with ease, while I can only blunder through with a phrase or
two. I can get the warrants from the Yard before I leave," he
continued, "and the Spanish authorities will give me all the help I
need."
"And what of Poltavo?" asked the Chief Commissioner.
T. B. shrugged his shoulders.
"We had a murderer there," he said. "I am satisfied that he killed
Moss. Whether he actually stabbed Hyatt, I am not sure. The man had
such a perfect organisation in London that it is possible that one of
his cutthroat friends served him in the case of that unfortunate
young man. Count Poltavo can wait. If we get the others, we shall
get him. He has powerful friends; we must move with caution.
"Good-night, sir."
He grasped the proffered hand, and his host ushered him into the
silent street.
He took two steps forward, when a man rose apparently from the
ground, and two shots rang out. T. B. had drawn his revolver and
fired from his hip, and his assailant staggered back cursing as a
dark shadow came running from the opposite side of the road to his
help.
Then T. B. swayed, his knees bent under him, and he fell back into
the Commissioner's arms.
"I'm done," he said, and the third man, hesitating a moment in the
roadway, heard the words and slipped his revolver back into his
pocket and fled.