CHAPTER VII.
"Now for Harley Street," muttered Blount, as he alighted from the trainin London, and though it was 9 o'clock, he did not despair of findingeither his man or something about him.
The motherly old lady who answered his summons at the door, was verymuch like the house--old-fashioned, but eminently respectable.
In the most innocent manner in the world she invited Blount into thesitting-room, but he did not accept the invitation until he had asked ifMr. Hall was at home, and she had answered that Mr. Hall had left townfor a few days.
This was a disappointment, but at any rate he would find out what sheknew about his movements, and sitting just a little in the shade withthe old lady just a little in the light, Blount fired question afterquestion, until even unsuspicious she began to wonder what it all meant.Quick to note this Blount stopped, and thanking her left No. -- HarleyStreet--very much puzzled and disappointed. All his theories wereknocked to the winds by that half-hour's conversation.
According to the old lady, Hall had come home about 7 o'clock on thenight in question, and had not gone out again. That she was positive offor he would have had to pass the open parlor where she together withsome friends had remained until after 12 o'clock, and after that she and"the girl" had spent another hour putting things to rights. There hadbeen a small party in honor of her little grandson's birthday.
* * * * *
The finding of the body was reported to the police by one of the inmatesof the house--a woman, at 1 A. M. She had come in late, as was customarywith her, and had knocked at his door to ask for a match. Receiving noreply she turned the knob and entered. The light was still burning, andseeing at once he was dead she called some of the other tenants whonotified the police. The body was not yet cold when they arrived, sothat death must have occurred just prior to its discovery. The threeother inmates of the house accounted satisfactorily for their movementsthat night, and the verdict of the coroner's jury, next day, was"suicide."
Blount, who had been detailed to look into the case, was, of course,present at the inquest. So, also, was our friend Martin, and, as hestood out in bold relief among the inmates of the alley, he at once cameunder the observation of the detective, who approached him and opened aconversation in his quiet, unassuming way.
"Rather odd case, sir!" he said. "If he had only waited a little whilehe would have gone naturally."
"Yes--it would appear so," replied Martin, looking at him curiously.
"Not interested I suppose--just dropped in through curiosity? Oh! I begpardon! I thought I had seen you before--you are the gentleman whocalled at the office several times about some missing documents,supposed to have been stolen by an old thief named Golden. Hope you'renot offended, sir! It's our business, you know, to know everybody at anaffair like this."
"Not at all!" replied Martin, recognizing in Blount a man who had beenvery attentive to him when making the inquiries referred to.
"Heard anything yet, sir?"
"Not exactly--but I've found my man."
"Found him!" exclaimed Blount, surprised out of his invariably soft,quiet tones.
"Yes,--there he lies."
Blount's business had accustomed him to surprises, but he could hardlyrealize that before him lay a man for whom Martin had offered a thousandpounds.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Positive. Nothing was found upon him or in the room, I presume."
"No, sir--that is, nothing of any account."
"I thought not," commented Martin.
Something in the tone had struck Blount, but before he could speak theinquest had begun. They had moved outside during the conversation, butnow entered the room where the inquest was being held. It was all overin a few minutes, and a verdict of "suicide" rendered.
When the verdict was announced Blount, whose eyes had been roving overthe crowd in a professional way, caught sight of a face which herecognized instantly, and he noticed with considerable surprise the lookof contempt with which the owner of the face received the verdict.
"Well, well, Mr. Jaggers! And what do we know about this?" and thuscommuning with himself, Blount slipped out before the crowd and waitedat the entrance. To Martin, who followed him, he said:
"Wait a minute and keep an eye on me please for----"
The _elite_ of Burn's Alley began coming out just then and almost thefirst was Blount's man. He was allowed to go as far as the corner of thestreet. Blount then tapped him on the shoulder and asked what he knewabout the "suicide."
"Nothin'," replied the man, sullenly.
"Come now, Jaggers, if you will tell me all you know about the case,I'll see no harm comes to you. I mean about that last trick of yours.You know you're wanted now, and badly too, at that!"
"Well, now, I'll tell ye wot I'll do. You come to 'Blind Jim's'to-morrow--no, night arter, 'bout 'leven or twelve, an' I'll tell ye wotlittle I knows an' a 'ole lot I thinks."
"But you must tell me something now. Something to work on for the nexttwo days."
Jaggers considered for a minute and then continued:
"Look ahere, Mr. Blount! It's not safe for me t' stand gabbin' in this'ere way, but I'll tell ye wot you'll do. Just find a chap called Hall.Tall, good lookin' cove, 'n well dressed. Lives sommers about the WestEnd. If ye don't get 'im there, try down 'bout Manchester, an' keep yereye on th' docks."
With the last words Jaggers started off suddenly, muttering somethingabout the "Inspector" and Blount turning leisurely, looked up the alleyand saw the cause of Jaggers' sudden move. Inspector Prime and thecoroner were coming down the alley. He at the same time saw Martinstanding on the opposite corner. Joining him he said:
"Mr. Martin, I asked you to wait because you made a curious remarkup-stairs. You said you expected there would be nothing found on thebody."
"Perfectly correct, Mr. Blount. Find the papers I am looking for, andyou've got the murderer of old Golden!"
"Phew," whistled Blount. "So you don't believe in the suicide theory?"
"Do you?" Martin stopped and faced him.
"Can't say as I do. I did but--you saw my gentleman friend? From what hetold me and what you tell me, I don't."
"Well, the same amount stands for the papers as before. But what did youlearn from your friend?"
Blount informed him. The name and description fitted Hall so well thatboth started for Hanley Hall--with what result we know.
On the way Blount showed Martin a small locket which he had foundbetween the dead man's shirt and vest. There was nothing peculiar aboutit--nothing to distinguish it from hundreds of others of a similarpattern, except that it contained the picture of a pretty young woman.
Martin's connection with Blount being explained, let us return to thatgentleman.
His theories, as he put it himself, were "all gone to pot"--no hope nowbut Jaggers, and he accordingly proceeded to "Blind Jim's."
"Blind Jim's" was a resort of thieves, male and female, of the worstcharacter, and when Blount entered everything came to a standstill. Thesinging and loud talking ceased almost instantaneously. The whisper wentaround "Blount is here," and each wondered "does he want me?"
The proprietor bowed obsequiously, and inquired after Mr. Blount'shealth, and would "he have something?" Before Blount could reply Jaggersrelieved the suspense by coming from the back room and joining him atthe bar.
"Have you a room where we can have a quiet drink?" asked Blount, of theone-eyed proprietor.
"Yes, sir! Cert'nly, sir! Here Mike!" (to one of the waiters), "show thegentleman to the parlor! What shall I send ye, Mr. Blount?"
"Nothing," replied Blount, shortly, "and see that you keep this den alittle more quiet hereafter or you'll rue it!"
"Yes, sir! I will----" and as he passed out of hearing--"D---- you! I'dlike to wring yer neck!"
Up-stairs Blount ordered a pot of ale for Jaggers and "a little gin" forhimself and then settling back in his chair invited his companion to"fire away," which he did to
the following effect.
The old man, who was known to him as Gorman, had for several years beenhis best friend, and had often, after they had become intimate, hintedat the possession of a secret which would one day make him rich. Finallyone day, about six months previous to the murder, he told Jaggers thathe had found a man through whom he could convert his secret into cash.Later, and only shortly before the murder, he told Jaggers that he wasbeginning to be afraid of his man, "and so," said Jaggers in conclusion,"he told me he had valuable papers which a chap named Hall wanted so hecould marry the girl an' get the tin. He didn't know where she lived,but this 'ere Hall did, an' it wos Manchester he got a ticket for everytime."
This was Jaggers' story and confirming his theory in every respect--yethow could he connect him with the crime? The locket was the only thinghe had, and that seemed worthless. Hall appeared to have had nointimate friends who would be likely to recognize it, or rather thephotograph in it. Again, Hall, guilty or not, had slipped through hisfingers like quicksilver.