CHAPTER FIVE

  SPARGO WISHES TO SPECIALIZE

  The barrister and the journalist, left thus unceremoniously on acrowded pavement, looked at each other. Breton laughed.

  "We don't seem to have gained much information," he remarked. "I'mabout as wise as ever."

  "No--wiser," said Spargo. "At any rate, I am. I know now that this deadman called himself John Marbury; that he came from Australia; that heonly landed at Southampton yesterday morning, and that he was in thecompany last night of a man whom we have had described to us--a tall,grey-bearded, well-dressed man, presumably a gentleman."

  Breton shrugged his shoulders.

  "I should say that description would fit a hundred thousand men inLondon," he remarked.

  "Exactly--so it would," answered Spargo. "But we know that it was oneof the hundred thousand, or half-million, if you like. The thing is tofind that one--the one."

  "And you think you can do it?"

  "I think I'm going to have a big try at it."

  Breton shrugged his shoulders again.

  "What?--by going up to every man who answers the description, andsaying 'Sir, are you the man who accompanied John Marbury to theAnglo----"

  Spargo suddenly interrupted him.

  "Look here!" he said. "Didn't you say that you knew a man who lives inthat block in the entry of which Marbury was found?"

  "No, I didn't," answered Breton. "It was Mr. Elphick who said that. Allthe same, I do know that man--he's Mr. Cardlestone, another barrister.He and Mr. Elphick are friends--they're both enthusiasticphilatelists--stamp collectors, you know--and I dare say Mr. Elphickwas round there last night examining something new Cardlestone's gothold of. Why?"

  "I'd like to go round there and make some enquiries," replied Spargo."If you'd be kind enough to----"

  "Oh, I'll go with you!" responded Breton, with alacrity. "I'm just askeen about this business as you are, Spargo! I want to know who thisman Marbury is, and how he came to have my name and address on him.Now, if I had been a well-known man in my profession, you know, why--"

  "Yes," said Spargo, as they got into a cab, "yes, that would haveexplained a lot. It seems to me that we'll get at the murderer throughthat scrap of paper a lot quicker than through Rathbury's line. Yes,that's what I think."

  Breton looked at his companion with interest.

  "But--you don't know what Rathbury's line is," he remarked.

  "Yes, I do," said Spargo. "Rathbury's gone off to discover who the manis with whom Marbury left the Anglo-Orient Hotel last night. That's hisline." "And you want----?"

  "I want to find out the full significance of that bit of paper, and whowrote it," answered Spargo. "I want to know why that old man was comingto you when he was murdered."

  Breton started.

  "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I--I never thought of that. You--you reallythink he was coming to me when he was struck down?"

  "Certain. Hadn't he got an address in the Temple? Wasn't he in theTemple? Of course, he was trying to find you."

  "But--the late hour?"

  "No matter. How else can you explain his presence in the Temple? Ithink he was asking his way. That's why I want to make some enquiriesin this block."

  It appeared to Spargo that a considerable number of people, chiefly ofthe office-boy variety, were desirous of making enquiries about thedead man. Being luncheon-hour, that bit of Middle Temple Lane where thebody was found, was thick with the inquisitive and thesensation-seeker, for the news of the murder had spread, and thoughthere was nothing to see but the bare stones on which the body hadlain, there were more open mouths and staring eyes around the entrythan Spargo had seen for many a day. And the nuisance had become sogreat that the occupants of the adjacent chambers had sent for apoliceman to move the curious away, and when Spargo and his companionpresented themselves at the entry this policeman was being lectured asto his duties by a little weazen-faced gentleman, in very snuffy andold-fashioned garments, and an ancient silk hat, who was obviouslygreatly exercised by the unwonted commotion.

  "Drive them all out into the street!" exclaimed this personage. "Drivethem all away, constable--into Fleet Street or upon theEmbankment--anywhere, so long as you rid this place of them. This is adisgrace, and an inconvenience, a nuisance, a----"

  "That's old Cardlestone," whispered Breton. "He's always irascible, andI don't suppose we'll get anything out of him. Mr. Cardlestone," hecontinued, making his way up to the old gentleman who was nowretreating up the stone steps, brandishing an umbrella as ancient ashimself. "I was just coming to see you, sir. This is Mr. Spargo, ajournalist, who is much interested in this murder. He----"

  "I know nothing about the murder, my dear sir!" exclaimed Mr.Cardlestone. "And I never talk to journalists--a pack of busybodies,sir, saving your presence. I am not aware that any murder has beencommitted, and I object to my doorway being filled by a pack of officeboys and street loungers. Murder indeed! I suppose the man fell downthese steps and broke his neck--drunk, most likely."

  He opened his outer door as he spoke, and Breton, with a reassuringsmile and a nod at Spargo, followed him into his chambers on the firstlanding, motioning the journalist to keep at their heels.

  "Mr. Elphick tells me that he was with you until a late hour lastevening, Mr. Cardlestone," he said. "Of course, neither of you heardanything suspicious?"

  "What should we hear that was suspicious in the Temple, sir?" demandedMr. Cardlestone, angrily. "I hope the Temple is free from that sort ofthing, young Mr. Breton. Your respected guardian and myself had a quietevening on our usual peaceful pursuits, and when he went away all wasas quiet as the grave, sir. What may have gone on in the chambers aboveand around me I know not! Fortunately, our walls are thick,sir--substantial. I say, sir, the man probably fell down and broke hisneck. What he was doing here, I do not presume to say."

  "Well, it's guess, you know, Mr. Cardlestone," remarked Breton, againwinking at Spargo. "But all that was found on this man was a scrap ofpaper on which my name and address were written. That's practically allthat was known of him, except that he'd just arrived from Australia."

  Mr. Cardlestone suddenly turned on the young barrister with a sharp,acute glance.

  "Eh?" he exclaimed. "What's this? You say this man had your name andaddress on him, young Breton!--yours? And that he came from--Australia?"

  "That's so," answered Breton. "That's all that's known."

  Mr. Cardlestone put aside his umbrella, produced a bandannahandkerchief of strong colours, and blew his nose in a reflectivefashion.

  "That's a mysterious thing," he observed. "Um--does Elphick know allthat?"

  Breton looked at Spargo as if he was asking him for an explanation ofMr. Cardlestone's altered manner. And Spargo took up the conversation.

  "No," he said. "All that Mr. Elphick knows is that Mr. Ronald Breton'sname and address were on the scrap of paper found on the body. Mr.Elphick"--here Spargo paused and looked at Breton--"Mr. Elphick," hepresently continued, slowly transferring his glance to the oldbarrister, "spoke of going to view the body."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Cardlestone, eagerly. "It can be seen? Then I'll goand see it. Where is it?"

  Breton started.

  "But--my dear sir!" he said. "Why?"

  Mr. Cardlestone picked up his umbrella again.

  "I feel a proper curiosity about a mystery which occurs at my verydoor," he said. "Also, I have known more than one man who went toAustralia. This might--I say might, young gentlemen--might be a man Ihad once known. Show me where this body is."

  Breton looked helplessly at Spargo: it was plain that he did notunderstand the turn that things were taking. But Spargo was quick toseize an opportunity. In another minute he was conducting Mr.Cardlestone through the ins and outs of the Temple towards Blackfriars.And as they turned into Tudor Street they encountered Mr. Elphick.

  "I am going to the mortuary," he remarked. "So, I suppose, are you,Cardlestone? Has anything more been discovered, young man?"

  Spargo tried a
chance shot--at what he did not know. "The man's namewas Marbury," he said. "He was from Australia."

  He was keeping a keen eye on Mr. Elphick, but he failed to see that Mr.Elphick showed any of the surprise which Mr. Cardlestone had exhibited.Rather, he seemed indifferent.

  "Oh?" he said--"Marbury? And from Australia. Well--I should like to seethe body."

  Spargo and Breton had to wait outside the mortuary while the two eldergentlemen went in. There was nothing to be learnt from either when theyreappeared.

  "We don't know the man," said Mr. Elphick, calmly. "As Mr. Cardlestone,I understand, has said to you already--we have known men who went toAustralia, and as this man was evidently wandering about the Temple, wethought it might have been one of them, come back. But--we don'trecognize him."

  "Couldn't recognize him," said Mr. Cardlestone. "No!"

  They went away together arm in arm, and Breton looked at Spargo.

  "As if anybody on earth ever fancied they'd recognize him!" he said."Well--what are you going to do now, Spargo? I must go."

  Spargo, who had been digging his walking-stick into a crack in thepavement, came out of a fit of abstraction.

  "I?" he said. "Oh--I'm going to the office." And he turned abruptlyaway, and walking straight off to the editorial rooms at the_Watchman_, made for one in which sat the official guardian of theeditor. "Try to get me a few minutes with the chief," he said.

  The private secretary looked up.

  "Really important?" he asked.

  "Big!" answered Spargo. "Fix it."

  Once closeted with the great man, whose idiosyncrasies he knew prettywell by that time, Spargo lost no time.

  "You've heard about this murder in Middle Temple Lane?" he suggested.

  "The mere facts," replied the editor, tersely.

  "I was there when the body was found," continued Spargo, and gave abrief resume of his doings. "I'm certain this is a most unusualaffair," he went on. "It's as full of mystery as--as it could be. Iwant to give my attention to it. I want to specialize on it. I can makesuch a story of it as we haven't had for some time--ages. Let me haveit. And to start with, let me have two columns for tomorrow morning.I'll make it--big!"

  The editor looked across his desk at Spargo's eager face.

  "Your other work?" he said.

  "Well in hand," replied Spargo. "I'm ahead a whole week--both articlesand reviews. I can tackle both."

  The editor put his finger tips together.

  "Have you got some idea about this, young man?" he asked.

  "I've got a great idea," answered Spargo. He faced the great mansquarely, and stared at him until he had brought a smile to theeditorial face. "That's why I want to do it," he added. "And--it's notmere boasting nor over-confidence--I know I shall do it better thananybody else."

  The editor considered matters for a brief moment.

  "You mean to find out who killed this man?" he said at last.

  Spargo nodded his head--twice.

  "I'll find that out," he said doggedly.

  The editor picked up a pencil, and bent to his desk.

  "All right," he said. "Go ahead. You shall have your two columns."

  Spargo went quietly away to his own nook and corner. He got hold of ablock of paper and began to write. He was going to show how to dothings.