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Good-humor being now restored, the party quitted the flat and adjourned to a neighboring hotel, where the barrister started White on the full, true, and particular account of his pursuit and capture of the Winchmore Hill burglars, an exploit which was the pride of the detective's life.
At the end of a bottle of champagne and a cigar they all parted excellent friends, but Bruce did not attempt to revisit Raleigh Mansions that night.
Instead, he partook of a quiet meal at a restaurant, and hurried to his chambers to await the advent of the ticket-collector.
Punctual to the hour, this new witness arrived, and was admitted by Smith in obedience with previous instructions. The man was somewhat awed by the surroundings and the appearance of a servant in livery, but Bruce quickly put him at his ease.
"Come, sit near the fire. Do you drink whisky and soda? That box contains your favorite cigars. Now, tell me all you know about this business."
"I can't s'y as I know anythink about it, sir, but by puttin' two and two together it makes four sometimes--not always."
"Quite right. You're a philosopher. Let me hear the two two's. We will see about the addition afterwards."
"Well, sir, this yer lydy was a-missin' early in November. She tykes a ticket at Victoria Station on the District for Richmond; she gives it up to me at Sloane Square, arsks a newsboy the w'y to Raleigh Mansions, for 'e tell'd me so after you'd bin to see me, an' from what you s'y, 'as bin swallered up ever since."
"The Lord Chief couldn't state the case more simply."
"That's the first two. Now, for the second two, an' you won't forgit as I knew nothink about the lydy bein' dead, or I should 'ave opened my mouth long afore this."
"Go on. No one can blame you."
"There's an old chap--Foxey they calls 'im, but I don't know 'is right nyme--who drives a four-wheeler around Chelsea, an' 'e 'ad tyken a fare from the Square to the City. It might be four o'clock or it might be five, but 'e was on 'is w'y back from Cornhill when a gent, a tall, good-looking gent, a youngish, military chap, 'ails 'im and says: 'Cabby, drive me to Sloane Square. There's no 'urry, but tyke care, because it's foggy.' Old Foxey nearly jumped out of 'is skin at this bit of good luck. 'E was pretty full then, for 'e's a regular beer-barrel, 'e is, but 'e made up 'is mind to 'ave a fair old skinful that night.
Well, Foxey drives 'im all right to the Square. The gent gives 'im five bob and says: 'Wite 'ere for me, cabby. You can drive me 'ome in about an hour's time.' This was at 5.30. Foxey drew up near the stytion, tells me all about it, an' stan's me two beers, 'e was that pleased with 'isself. 'E goes to give 'is 'oss the nose-bag, in comes the Richmond train, and out pops the lydy with the Richmond ticket. D'ye follow me?"
"Every word."
"An' you see now 'ow it is I can fix the d'y?"
"Perfectly."
"Well, I sees no more of Foxey. I missed 'im about the Square, so one d'y I axes at the rank,--'Where's Foxey?' An' where d'ye think 'e was?"
"I can not tell."
"In quod."
"In jail. Why?"
"That's. .h.i.t. That's number two of the twos. Pardon me, but I'm gettin' a bit mixed. Well, it seems that that very night, comin' back from Putney as drunk as a lord, old Foxey runs over a barrer. 'E an' the coster 'as a fight. The police come, and Foxey dots one bobby in the blinkers and another on the boko. You wouldn't think it was in 'im. 'E must 'ave bin paralytic."
"So he was locked up?"
"Locked up! 'E was dragged there by the 'eels. Next mornin' 'e comes before the beak. 'We was all drunk together, your wurshup,' 'e says. 'I took a fare from the City to Sloane Square, an' 'e left me for more'n an hour. 'E comes back excited like--bin boozin' 'ard, I suppose--brings my keb up to a 'ouse, carries in a lydy who was that 'toxicated she couldn't stand, an' tells me to drive to Putney. We gits there, an' I says 'you've nearly killed my 'oss, guv'nor.' With that 'e tips me a fiver--a five-pun note, your wurshup.' 'What has that got to do with the charge?' says the beak. 'Wot?' says Foxey. 'If a chap give you a fiver for drivin' 'im to Putney wouldn't you get drunk?' With that the magistrate gives 'im three months for a.s.saulting the police, and fines 'im the balance of the fiver for bein' drunk in charge of a 'oss and keb."
The ticket collector took a long drink after this recital.
"I hope you will not follow Foxey's example," said Bruce, rising.
"'Ow do you mean, sir?"
"Because I am going to keep my word. Here are the four sovereigns I owe you. In your case your two and two have made five."
"Thank you, sir. You're a brick. No fear of me meltin' this little lot.
The missus will be on 'em like a bird w'en I tell her." And the man spat upon the coins with evident relish as he handled them.
"One word more," said Bruce. "Where was this man tried?"
"At the West London Police Court."
"You can get me his real name and post it to me?"
"Sure, sir. Anyway, I'll try."
"I am greatly obliged to you."
"An' 'as my yarn bin of any use to you, sir?"
"The greatest. It has solved a puzzle. However, I will see you again.
Good-bye. Don't forget to write."
"Cornhill is the direct line from Leadenhall Street," mused Claude, when he was alone. "Any one coming to Sloane Square from Dodge & Co.'s office would pa.s.s through it. Upon my word, things look very black against Mensmore. Yet I cannot believe it."
CHAPTER XVII
A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION
Bruce now had several lines of inquiry open.
Apart from the main and vital question as to the exact method of Lady d.y.k.e's death, and the ident.i.ty of the person responsible for it, a number of important matters required attention.
Why had Jane Harding quitted her situation so suddenly?
Whence did she obtain the money that enabled her to blossom forth as Marie le Marchant?
Who was Sydney H. Corbett?
Why did Mensmore adopt a false name; and, in any case, why adopt the name of Corbett?
Why did Mrs. Hillmer exhibit such sudden terror lest her brother might be guilty?
Whom did Mrs. Hillmer marry? Was her husband alive or dead?
Was the man who conveyed Lady d.y.k.e's body from Raleigh Mansions to Putney responsible also for her death?