“I told you to watch him, didn’t I?” he said furiously. “What do you think you’re going to do now?”

“I’m going after him,” Butch said. “He can’t get away.”

“Don’t be a fool! You might slip. It’s a long drop down there.”

“I won’t slip,” Butch said, but he made no move to get through the window.

Rollo again looked out of the window at Joe. “Now be sensible, my boy,” he said mildly. “This won’t get you anywhere. You’d better come in before you meet with an accident.”

Joe gripped the warm tiles and leaned forward. “In a little while,” he said, “I’m going to jump. I’ve thought it all out. If I don’t, I’ll talk. I know that, so I’m going to jump.”

Rollo stared at him. Joe’s white face was stark and frightening in the moonlight and Rollo suddenly realized with a feeling of chill that he meant what he said.

“Don’t be a fool,” he urged. “We won’t hurt you. Tell us where the body is and we’ll leave you alone.”

Joe shook his head. “No!” He had difficulty in stopping his teeth from chattering. Although the night was hot and the roof still kept the heat of the summer sun, he himself was shivering with cold fear.

Rollo whispered to Butch “Get a rope. We might drop a noose over him.”

Butch grunted and went away down the corridor.

Rollo turned back to the window. “Let’s be sensible about this,” he said persuasively, as if talking to a child. “You’re young. You don’t want to die. Tell me where the body is and I’ll give you ten thousand pounds. Think of it, my boy. Think what you could do with ten thousand pounds.”

“You don’t understand,” Joe said, peering at Rollo’s great face. “They did everything for me. You’ve no idea how good they’ve been to me. I know what you’re going to do, and I won’t let you. You’ll never find Cornelius now and without him you can’t do anything. That’s why I’m going to jump. It’ll spoil your little game and Mr. Kester will be safe from you.” He glanced over his shoulder, looking down at the garden below.

Rollo saw him sway and clutch at the roof and for a moment he thought Joe was going to fall.

“Take care!” he said in sudden agony, knowing that if Joe fell the chances of finding Cornelius were very slim.

Just then Butch came back. He had a long thin rope in his hand.

Rollo whispered, “Keep out of sight. Don’t let him see you. How will you do it?”

“I’m going to try to get on the roof from some other point,” Butch said. “You keep the little rat talking while I sneak up on him.”

Rollo wiped the perspiration from his eyes. “I think he means to jump,” he said. “He’s mad. He must be. You can’t afford to make a mistake.”

Butch’s face went sullen. “I won’t make a mistake,” he said.

“Be careful. He may try to drag you after him.”

“Just keep him talking,” Butch returned and went away down the corridor again.

Joe, out of the corner of his eye, saw something move. He jerked round and as he did so, there came a faint swishing sound of a falling rope.

“You fool!” Rollo shouted, seeing the rope tighten round Joe’s throat.

It was too late.

With a thin scream of terror, Joe disappeared off the roof. The slack of the rope suddenly whipped tight, and jerked with a loud snap against the tiles.

Butch crawled into sight. He paid no attention to Rollo’s vituperation. He reached the gable, swung himself across it and crept forward to the edge. He leaned forward and looked down at Joe’s white face, as he swung limply at the end of the rope.

* * *

Cedric Smythe had just taken off his coat and waistcoat as he prepared to go to bed when he was startled by Susan’s wild scream. For a moment he stood petrified, then seizing his dressing gown, he hurried along the passage and halted at the foot of the stairs.

The house was in darkness and after the first alarming scream, there was silence. Cedric wished some of his other boarders would join him to find out what was the matter. But apparently they were too preoccupied with sleep to bother with his fears.

“Miss Hedder!” he called. “Are you all right?”

He listened and as he could hear nothing he began a slow and reluctant move up the stairs.

Then suddenly he heard a door open, slam shut, the sound of a key being turned in the lock and hurried footsteps down the passage.

“Oh, my goodness!” he exclaimed under his breath and crouched against the wall, his eyes popping out of his head and his heart racing with alarm.

Susan swept to the foot of the stairs and came down with a rush. She was holding her hat and coat in her hand and she didn’t see him until she was on top of him.

It was doubtful whether Cedric startled her more than her horror stricken face startled him.

She shied away from him with a little squeak, hesitated for a second and then made as if to rush on.

Cedric stopped her. “What is it?” he said, looking past her to the upstairs landing as if expecting to see someone creeping down on them. “What’s the matter? You’re frightening the life out of me!”

“I can’t tell you,” Susan said, wrenching herself free. “I can’t tell you now. I’ve got to go out,” and away she went again, down the stairs, into the hall and out into the street.

Somewhere in the far distance a clock struck two. The long Fulham Road was deserted and the moon lit up the faces of the houses and on the windows, making them look like great blind eyes.

A taxi suddenly turned from a side road into the main road and waving frantically, Susan stopped it.

The taxi driver peered at her curiously. “Out late, Miss, ain’t you?” he asked, then added a little wearily, “I was just going home.”

“It’s not far,” Susan panted, jerking open the cab door. “It’s just by the Green Man. I’ll tell you where to stop.”

It did not take more than three or four minutes to reach the Green Man and then Susan leaned forward. “I want Mr. Kester Weidmann’s place. Do you know where it is?”

“You bet I do,” the driver returned. “The millionaire? Wot do you want with ‘im?”

“Oh—I work there. I’m a maid there,” Susan explained after a moment’s frantic thought. “Don’t drive in. Just put me down at the gates. If anyone hears me, I’ll—I’ll get the sack.”

The driver pulled up after a moment. “ ‘Ere you are, Miss.”

Susan got out, gave him his fare and then hurried through the great stone gateway and down the long twisting drive towards the house. She had no idea where she would find Joe, but even if she had to rouse the house, she was determined to see him. He would have to come back with her and remove the trunk. She was determined to accept no excuse nor to listen to any attempt to persuade her to keep the trunk.

Whatever happened he would have to take it away.

It was a long, lonely walk up the drive. She would have been hopelessly lost had it not been for the brilliant moonlight.

The drive was cut through a dense wood and she walked some distance before she caught a glimpse of the house. As she did so, she noticed a big Packard car standing in the drive. Only then did she remember what Joe had said over the telephone. “They’re coming. He’s sent for them.”

Instantly she stepped off the driveway into the thick undergrowth. They— Rollo and the man in the black shirt—were already there. She had been about to walk right into them. What were they doing? Why had Kester Weidmann sent for them? Where was Joe?

She began to move very cautiously through the undergrowth until she got nearer the house. Then she paused again and peered through the bushes. A tall, thin man was standing in the middle of the broad circular drive. He was motionless, his head thrown back; he seemed to be staring at the sky.

A voice called from above. “I can’t pull the little rat up. I’m going to cut the rope and let him drop.”