A Bid for Fortune by Guy Boothby (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📕

and corkscrew curls. She seemed at a loss to understand our errand, but bade us be seated, and then asked in what way she could be of service to us.

“In the first place, madam,” said the Inspector, “let me tell you that I am an officer of police. A serious crime has been perpetrated, and I have reason to believe that it may be in your power to give us a clue to the persons who committed it.”

“You frighten me, sir,” replied the lady. “I cannot at all see in what way I can help you. I lead a life of the greatest quietness. How, therefore, can I know anything of such people?”

“I do not wish to imply that you do know anything of them. I only want you to carry your memory back as far as yesterday, and to answer me the few simple questions I may ask you.”

“I will answer them to the best of my ability.”

“Well, in the first place, may I ask if you remember seeing a brougham drive up to that house opposite about midday yesterday?”

“No, I cannot say that I do,” the old lady replied after a moment’s consideration.

“Do you remember seeing a number of men leave the house during the afternoon?”

“No. If they came out I did not notice them.”

“Now, think for one moment, if you please, and tell me what vehicles, if any, you remember seeing stop there.”

“Let me try to remember. There was Judge’s baker’s cart, about three, the milk about five, and a furniture van about half-past six.”

“That’s just what I want to know. And have you any recollection whose furniture van it was?”

“Yes. I remember reading the name as it turned round. Goddard & James, George Street. I wondered if the tenant was going to move.”

The Inspector rose, and I followed his example.

“I am exceedingly obliged to you, Miss Tiffins. You have helped me materially.”

“I am glad of that,” she answered; “but I trust I shall not be wanted to give evidence in court. I really could not do it.”

“You need have no fear on that score,” the Inspector answered. “Good day.”

“Good day.”

When we had left the house the Inspector turned to me and said: “It was a great piece of luck finding a dressmaker opposite. Commend me to ladies of that profession for knowing what goes on in the street. Now we will visit Messrs Goddard & James and see who hired the things. Meantime, Williams” (here he called the plain-clothes constable to him), “you had better remain here and watch that house. If the man we saw comes out, follow him, and let me know where he goes.”

“Very good, sir,” the constable replied, and we left him to his vigil.

Then, hailing a passing cab, we jumped into it and directed the driver to convey us to George Street. By this time it was getting on for midday, and we were both worn out. But I was in such a nervous state that I could not remain inactive. Phyllis had been in Nikola’s hands nearly fourteen hours, and so far we had not obtained one single definite piece of information as to her whereabouts.

Arriving at the shop of Messrs Goddard & James, we went inside and asked to see the chief partner. An assistant immediately conveyed us to an office at the rear of the building, where we found an elderly gentleman writing at a desk. He looked up as we entered, and then, seeing the Inspector’s uniform, rose and asked our business.

“The day before yesterday,” began my companion, “you supplied a gentleman with a number of South-Sea weapons and curios on hire did you not?”

“I remember doing so⁠—yes,” was the old gentleman’s answer.

“What about it?”

“Only I should be glad if you would favour me with a description of the person who called upon you about them⁠—or a glimpse of his letter, if he wrote.”

“He called and saw me personally.”

“Ah! That is good. Now would you be so kind as to describe him?”

“Well, in the first place, he was very tall and rather handsome he had, if I remember rightly, a long brown moustache, and was decidedly well dressed.”

“That doesn’t tell us very much, does it? Was he alone?”

“No. He had with him, when he came into the office, an individual whose face singularly enough remains fixed in my memory⁠—indeed I cannot get it out of my head.”

Instantly I became all excitement.

“What was this second person like?” asked the Inspector.

“Well, I can hardly tell you⁠—that is to say, I can hardly give you a good enough description of him to make you see him as I saw him. He was tall and yet very slim, had black hair, a sallow complexion, and the blackest eyes I ever saw in a man. He was clean-shaven and exquisitely dressed, and when he spoke, his teeth glittered like so many pearls. I never saw another man like him in my life.”

“Nikola for a thousand!” I cried, bringing my hand down with a thump upon the table.

“It looks as if we’re on the track at last,” said the Inspector. Then turning to Mr. Goddard again: “And may I ask now what excuse they made to you for wanting these things!”

“They did not offer any; they simply paid a certain sum down for the hire of them, gave me their address, and then left.”

“And the address was?”

“83, Charlemagne Street. Our van took the things there and fetched them away last night.”

“Thank you. And now one or two other questions. What name did the hirer give?”

“Eastover.”

“And when they left your shop how did they go away?”

“A cab was waiting at the door for them, and I walked out to it with them.”

“There were only two of them, you think?”

“No. There was a third person waiting for them in the cab, and it was that very circumstance which made me anxious to have my things brought back as soon as possible. If I had been able to, I should have even declined to let them go.”

“Why so?”

“Well, to tell