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“No need, old boy,” Abbington-Westlake replied in pluet the film?”

Bell snapped their picture anyway “Should I use one of your cameras? You have a lot of them,” Bell said affably

Suspicion hardened Fiona Abbington-Westlake’s attractive features “I say!” she exclaied to sound clipped and drawled at the same time “I’ve seen you before, soet a face”

“And in a si,” Isaac Bell replied “Last week at New York Ship in Camden, New Jersey”

Lady Fiona and her husband exchanged glances The reatchful

Bell said, “And today we ‘observe’ the New York Navy Yard in Brooklyn These reversed naain “Let’s see if I can get all of you in the picture with the navy yard right behind you-the way you were snapping it”

It was Abbington-Westlake’s turn to blurt, “I say!,” and he did arrogantly “Who the devil do you think you are? Move along, sir Move along!”

Bell threw a hard look at “retiredfor oil in Brooklyn?”

Sutherland allowed hiht But not Abbington-Westlake The Naval Attaché charged past his co if you knohat’s good for you Or I’ll call a constable”

Bell answered quietly “A constable is the last person you want to see you here at this moment, Commander Meet me in the basement bar of the Knickerbocker at six o’clock Take the entrance from the subway”

Fluton-Westlake transforant aristocratic naval officer to a type that Bell had known at college-the young er to act old and stuffy before his time “I’m afraid I don’t use the subway, old chap Rather a plebeian form of transport, don’t you think?”

“The subway entrance will let you , ‘old chap’ Six o’clock sharp Leave your wife and Sutherland Come alone”

“And if I don’t appear?” Abbington-Westlake huffed

“I’ll co for you at the British Embassy”

The Naval Attaché turned white Research had assured Bell that he would, because Great Britain’s Foreign Office, Military Intelligence, and Naval Intelligence were all highly mistrustful of one another “Hold on, sir!” he whispered “The game just isn’t played that way One doesn’t blunder into one’s adversary’s e secrets”