For a little, while the two men smoked, there was silence. They did not quite set each other's genius, it was clear. Between them was a subtle antagonism, which yet on both sides did not deny a claim to respect. Saul Hartz, at any rate, had now modified considerably his first estimate of "the pseudo-oriental."
"There's a second question I hope you'll not mind my asking," he said at last. "Do you know exactly what agent was used to compass Garland's death?"
"Oh, yes." Wygram's tone removed every shred of doubt from the mind of his questioner.
"Your information would be of considerable value to—shall we say—the police?"
"The police are in possession of it," said Wygram unconcernedly.
"May I ask how you know that?"
"I have been acting for them."
Hartz was at once alive to the significance of the statement. "Are you at liberty to disclose the full extent of your knowledge?"
"At liberty, yes," was the cool reply. "I never, in
