“I suppose it will.”
“Not a doubt of it. That narrows the thing down very comfortably. But the bright lads will have to be their very brightest. We must come down to details. First of all, where will the sacred formula be tonight? Will Eberhard have it, or Sir Oswald Coote?”
“Neither. I understand it’s to be handed over to the Air Minister this evening, for him to take to town tomorrow. In that case O’Rourke will have it. Sure to.”
“Well, there’s only one thing for it. If we believe someone’s going to have a shot at pinching that paper, we’ve got to keep watch tonight, Bill, my boy.”
Bundle opened her mouth as though to protest, but shut it again without speaking.
“By the way,” continued Jimmy, “did I recognise the commissionaire from Harrods in the hall this evening, or was it our old friend Lestrade from Scotland Yard?”
“Scintillating, Watson,” said Bill.
“I suppose,” said Jimmy, “that we are rather butting in on his preserves.”
“Can’t be helped,” said Bill. “Not if we mean to see this thing through.”
“Then it’s agreed,” said Jimmy. “We divide the night into two watches?”
Again Bundle opened her mouth, and again shut it without speaking.
“Right you are,” agreed Bill. “Who’ll take first duty?”
“Shall we spin for it?”
“Might as well.”