Lopez looked up and down again swiftly. He was thinking how he could turn this thing to advantage and go his own course at the same time. He did not hear the tinkle of the telephone-bell behind him; he took no heed as Mrs. Benstein placed the receiver to her ear.
"Yes," she said. "I am home. See you in ten minutes. Ask him to wait outside the drawing-room door. Oh, yes, the messenger came quite safely. Good night."
If Lopez heard all this it was quite in a mechanical way. He spoke presently, urging the uselessness of the proceedings that Isa Benstein suggested. She said something in reply, something cold and cutting, but she was taking no further interest in the matter. She was listening for something, the ring of the front-door bell and a step outside. It came at length, and she rose.
"My mind is quite made up," she said. "And I am not going to give you a chance to go back upon me. Will you open that door, please? I thank you. Inspector Townsend, will you be so good as to step in? As I told you over the telephone, the messenger arrived quite safely."
Lopez's hand shot swiftly behind him; then he dropped it to his side and smiled. He had been beaten, but he showed no emotion or the slightest sign of anger.
"I think you had better come quietly," he said. "I have plenty of assistance outside. The charge is wilful murder over that affair at Streatham. Shall I call a cab for you?"
Lopez nodded. As he passed out of the house Isa Benstein went to the telephone again, and called up the office of the _Evening Banner_. There was a hurried conversation, then the communication was cut off. It seemed to Mrs. Benstein that she had every reason to be pleased with her evening's work. "It would be good to see Frobisher's face when he knows that," she said. "And he will know to-night."
It was getting late now, but some of the evening papers were running extra specials. There had been a big railway accident in the North, and there was a little capital out of that. Frobisher heard the raucous cry of the boys as he came out of his club. He was restless and ill at ease; he could not sit down and contemplate the beauty of his orchids to-night.
"Terrible accident," a boy screamed as he passed. "More about the Streatham 'orror. Arrest of Paul Lopez to-night. Arrest of the missing witness. Speshul."