“It was a risk,” said the thin man, adding a touch of admiration to keep him talking.
“Not really.” Arnold spoke happily. “The dodgy moment was getting him done. It was late, but I was right in London, don’t forget. A van isn’t like a car either. I was driving, and he was in a hurry and kept fidgeting. There’s a lot of light about in the old S.W. district even after midnight. I took a side turn at last into an alley near Harrods, pretending it was a short cut. When I found I couldn’t get through, I switched off my lights by-mistake-on-purpose while I was swearing and trying to reverse. He started to try to see where we were, as if he was in a car, and as his head went back I got him. I only took one cut. I’ve never needed more since the first time. After that, of course, I couldn’t lose h
