Pennik spoke first. It was an optical illusion that his face or the least detail of his appearance had changed: it had not. Yet there was a new set about him, a new cause for satisfaction, which Sanders did not yet understand.
'Sir Henry Merrivale?' inquired Pennik, with his light eyes fixed.
‘That's right. Join us?'
‘Thank you.'
He handed his coat and hat to the waiter, and it was in the waiter's face, not in that of any of the others, that you saw reflected the emotional state round that table. In the waiter's face you saw sudden recognition. Taking Pennik's things, he turned round and walked rapidly away.
‘I must be going,' said Hilary. 'I really must. Jack, if I could have a word with you?'
'Please sit down, Miss Keen,' Pennik requested. His tone was formal, but inside him Sanders felt he was holding his thick ribs with amusement. That was it: he somehow conveyed the impression of being thicker, not only of body and face, but perhaps even of mind. ‘No, no, you must not go. If you are late at the office, all that can be arranged.'
'I only wish it could.'
'Do you? If everything else were as easy!' said Pennik. ' "And you should have the sun and moon to wear, if I were king."'
'That would be very nice,' said Hilary. She sat down.
'How do you do, Mr Masters ?' pursued Pennik, to a chief inspector who was watching him as warily as you might watch a cat at which it may soon be necessary to throw a botde. 'And you, Mr Chase?'
'Sorry. Got to go. You'll excuse me,' said Chase.
He got up stiffly and walked out of the restaurant, whirling his waterproof behind him without even bothering to put it on. They saw him standing just outside, bare-headed and semi-bald in the rain, peering up and down to decide in which direction his appointment lay. He collided with a little group of loungers who had huddled under the shelter of the overhang at the door, and were looking steadily into the restaurant.
Indubitably, something was going to happen. .
'I regret,' Pennik continued, again fixing his attention on H. M., 'I genuinely regret having had to turn you away from the Black Swan the other night. For I have looked forward to a meeting. Under the circumstances, however, I felt that to see you would be a disturbing influence. Can you understand that?'
H. M. had got his cigar lighted.
'No apology necessary, son. - But what are you doin' here now?'
'To tell you the truth, I was following Miss Keen.'
'Then it was you ...' Hilary began.
'Following you in the taxi? Yes, my poppet, I am afraid it was. I like looking at you. Yes, I honestly do like looking at you, if you follow my meaning. You stimulate me. Under your inspiration I feel that even a modest fellow like myself might do great things.' Hilary's face flamed, but she did not dare comment. Pennik was opening and shutting his hands. 'When I saw all of our - er - protagonists seated round the council board here, I could not resist joining in. For one thing, I wanted to see Chief Inspector Masters.' Masters stiffened.
'I wanted to ask him a question,' explained Pennik.
'If there are any questions being asked hereabouts,' Masters said,'I’ll ask 'em, if you please. And I've got a question or two for you, Mr Pennik. What are you doing in London? What's your permanent address, in case we want to get hold of you ? You were last at the Black Swan Hotel. Well?'
Pennik smiled.
'Well, I don't live there, you know. I have a flat in Bloomsbury - a modest flat, as suits my tastes. I will write you the address. Er - what I really wanted to know, Mr Masters, was this. Would there be any objection to my leaving the country?''
A blow in the solar plexus could not have been worse.
'Leaving the country?' breathed Masters. 'Yes, sir, there smacking well would be an objection to your leaving the country. If you think you can start all this rumpus and then walk out, you'll soon find out you can't.'
Again Pennik smiled. Though his little, light, flickering eyes were on Hilary, he gave the question his attention.
'Be comforted, Mr Masters. I have no intention of deserting you. I meant for a few hours only, on a visit to France. I have received a signal honour in being asked to make a radio broadcast -'
'Oh, ah, yes,' said Masters, maliciously. 'I remember. For the cheese company, wasn't it?'
Pennik laughed outright. It gave him an odd look, as though his face were unused to laughter and these new sensations produced queer wrinkles when he did laugh. He seemed genuinely to like the chief inspector; in fact, he bore malice towards nobody.
'No. Hadn't you heard? All that is changed. I have been officially invited to speak over the French government radio station to-morrow night. I shall speak first in French, and then in English. Nine forty-five to ten-fifteen is the time, in case you are interested.' His forehead was ruffled with an annoyance not unmixed with amusement. 'You know, my good friend, I am afraid the French have rather misunderstood the nature of my claims. All these nonsensical rumours of death-machines and-such clap-trap -' He shook his head.
'They will mislead themselves, gentlemen. They will persist in attributing to me powers I don't have and never claimed to have. Heaven knows my thesis is modest enough. It is only surprising because, in its present scientific application, it is new.' Here Pennik hesitated a little; Sanders wondered why. 'I do not want them, therefore, to be misled by such tales and be disappointed. At the same time, when they hear what I have to say I don't think they will be disappointed. Nor will my friends in England be disappointed. By God, gentlemen, the million people who hear me shall not be disappointed.'
They all looked at him.
'Just a minute, son,' said H. M. He put down his cigar on the edge of his plate. 'Do you mean you're proposin' to kill somebody else?'
'Yes,' said Pennik.
Again it was perhaps a full minute before anybody spoke. Then, anticipating any objection, Pennik explained himself with painstaking lucidity.
'You hardly need to point out to me, gentlemen, that so far I have put myself consistently in the wrong. I admit that. I am no master of strategy. I am a human being, and liable to act in a fit of impulse. I killed Mr Constable deliberately, in the firm and solemn conviction that I was 'doing good by it. But Mrs Constable's death - well, why not? Why not? If I acted in anger, why not?'
Masters's tone was flat.
'So you did that,' he said, 'because I said you couldn't kill an ant with a fly-swatter.'
'I accepted her challenge. Now she is dead. But hear me a little further!' He tapped his blunt forefinger on the table. 'I am not going to abuse a force which seems so simple to me and so mysterious to you. I said it must be used for good; and I meant just that. But I will not fail to use an opportunity like the present one. Think of what it means. To me has been given an opportunity such as has been granted to few men in the history of the world. I am explaining to children something they do not understand. I must prove it to them by nursery instances. Very well. When I speak to them tomorrow night, they will not be satisfied with talk. I will take a human life like a globe of glass in my hands, and smash it down on the floor before them: then they can see for themselves. I will tell them who is going to die, and where, and how. When they have seen the bone crack and the heart stop, they may possibly understand that I mean what I say.'
He drew in his breath. His excitement simmered down, and now he became cheerful with a restrained and ghoulish cheerfulness.
'Too much talk, too much talk,' he added, rubbing his hands together briskly. 'As Antony said to Cleopatra (eh, Miss Keen?), I am not here to talk. But there is something about your expression, Mr Masters, if you will excuse me for saying so, which always impels me to get above myself. Anyhow, that is what I propose to do. And I really do not see how you are going to stop me.'