Free The Hansa Protocol by Norman Russell Page B

fleeting moment Box imagined that they were in the countryside.
    ‘And then,’ Inspector Lewis continued, ‘there’s Miss Seligmann – Miss Ottilie, as she’s called. She’s Dr Seligmann’s niece. She’s little more than a girl, very pretty, and very nice to the English staff. I don’t know what she’s like with the Germans, as I don’t speak German. I think she just lives in the house because she’s no parents. Came here six months ago, she did.’
    ‘What about the staff?’
    ‘There’s Mr Lodge, the butler, who I mentioned to you before. A very nice man, he is, fond of a glass or two of stout when the fancy takes him. I know a niece of his in the Borough. There’s a full house of English servants, and Mr Lodge is in charge of them. They’re all localfolk. And there’s Mrs Poniatowski, who’s the housekeeper. All starch and vinegar, she is. I rather think—’
    Lewis broke off as a clutch of lively men in raincoats and bowler hats suddenly appeared at the corner of a narrow lane, waving their arms excitedly. Some of them were carrying notebooks. Inspector Box smiled.
    ‘The gentlemen of the Press, unless I’m very much mistaken,’ he said. ‘So the flies are already buzzing round the jampot. I take it we’ve arrived at Lavender Walk?’
    ‘We have, Mr Box. It’s just along that little lane. I don’t know why it’s called Lavender Walk. It’s more like a little square. We’ll leave the cab here, and walk down beside the hospital wall. Look at those men! What do they expect me to say?’
    ‘Would you like me to vouchsafe them a few words, Mr Lewis? I’m used to them, you know.’
    ‘I’d be very grateful if you would, Mr Box. Flies around the jampot? Vultures, more like!’
    As soon as the four police officers alighted from the cab, they were surrounded by the reporters. Each represented a different newspaper, but they also had a team spirit of their own, a communal identity. Box leapt on to a low wall at the side of the road, and immediately the gaggle of men congregated eagerly in front of him.
    ‘Now, gents,’ said Box, in a loud, clear voice, ‘you all know me, and I won’t let you down. This is a very sinister business, and there are implications that, at the moment, it would not be prudent to make public. So if you come along at noon today, to the Clarence Vaults in Victoria Street, I’ll make a statement, and answer any questions. For the moment, though, I’ll ask you to disperse. Good day.’
    The reporters seemed very satisfied with Box’s words. They moved away slowly in the general direction of Ormond Gate, chattering among themselves, and glancing back occasionally at the cab, which had been halted at the side of the road. The driver had come down from the box gratefully and shut himself up snug inside.
    There had been a sickly sun shining for most of the journey, but now the fog began to descend with greater determination. The four policemen made their way into Lavender Walk, which proved to be a number of very ancient houses of modest size arranged around a patch of green. A few people were standing around, apparently heedless of the cold rain.They were talking quietly together, and looking up at one of the houses, an old Tudor dwelling with mullioned windows and carved beams. The front door stood wide open, despite the bitter cold. The onlookers parted to make way for the policemen. Box was conscious of their curious glances as they stepped over the threshold of the stricken house.
     
    ‘Behold, Herr Schneider, the majesty of the British Law!’
    Ottilie Seligmann was looking down at the neglected garden from one of the few rear windows of Dr Seligmann’s house to have escaped the destruction of the previous night. The secretary, stiff and respectful, stood on the landing behind her. He had heard the Scotland Yard men being admitted to the house a few minutes earlier. Lodge would have conducted them through the hall passage, and out into the garden.
    Ottilie turned