CHAPTER 10
The Sleeveless Errand
Out of the remarkable assortment of people who had a direct interest in the movements of Felix Perdreau there were two who reported the news to Mr. Campion. Both of them rang him at his London flat on Monday morning, nearly thirty-six hours after the disappearance had first been noticed.
Rupert, speaking from a call box outside the grounds of the Turrets, sounded breathless and conspiratorial.
“Couldn’t get through before,” he said. “Guests to see off and all that malarky. They make me work here, you know. I think I’ll go back to simple playacting when this is all over. Well, he’s gone—vanished—sunk without trace. His car is missing too, so he may have pushed off in a huff, though I don’t think so. He was making all the running with the Diaz and she’s q
