The Lodger (11 page)

  She nodded. And then he went through into the room
where the father and daughter were sitting.

  "Well?" said Bunting, starting up. "Well, Joe? Now
you can tell us all about that mysterious clue I suppose it'd be
too good news to expect you to tell us they've caught him?"

  "No fear of such good news as that yet awhile. If
they'd caught him," said Joe ruefully, "well, I don't suppose I
should be here, Mr. Bunting. But the Yard are circulating a
description at last. And - well, they've found his weapon!"

  "No?" cried Bunting excitedly. "You don't say so!
Whatever sort of a thing is it? And are they sure 'tis his?"

  "Well, 'tain't sure, but it seems to be likely."

  Mrs. Bunting had slipped into the room and shut the
door behind her. But she was still standing with her back against
the door, looking at the group in front of her. None of them were
thinking of her - she thanked God for that! She could hear
everything that was said without joining in the talk and
excitement.

  "Listen to this!" cried Joe Chandler exultantly.
"'Tain't given out yet - not for the public, that is - but we was
all given it by eight o'clock this morning. Quick work that eh?" He
read out:

  "WANTED

  A man, of age approximately 28, slight in figure,
height approximately 5 ft. '8 in. Complexion dark. No beard or
whiskers. Wearing a black diagonal coat hard felt hat, high white
collar, and tie. Carried a newspaper parcel. Very respectable
appearance."

  Mrs. Bunting walked forward. She gave a long,
fluttering sigh of unutterable relief.

  "There's the chap!" said Joe Chandler triumphantly.
"And now, Miss Daisy" - he turned to her jokingly, but there was a
funny little tremor in his frank, cheerful-sounding voice - "if you
knows of any nice, likely young fellow that answers to that
description - well, you've only got to walk in and earn your reward
of five hundred pounds."

  "Five hundred pounds!" cried Daisy and her father
simultaneously.

  "Yes. That's what the Lord Mayor offered yesterday.
Some private bloke - nothing official about it. But we of the Yard
is barred from taking that reward, worse luck. And it's too bad,
for we has all the trouble, after all"

  "Just hand that bit of paper over, will you?" said
Bunting. "I'd like to con it over to myself."

  Chandler threw over the bit of flimsy.

  A moment later Bunting looked up and handed it back.
"Well, it's clear enough, isn't it?"

  "Yes. And there's hundreds - nay, "thousands - of
young fellows that might be a description of," said Chandler
sarcastically. "As a pal of mine said this morning, 'There isn't a
chap will like to carry a newspaper parcel after this.' And it
won't do to have a respectable appearance - eh?"

  Daisy's voice rang out in merry, pealing laughter.
She greatly appreciated Mr. Chandler's witticism.

  "Why on earth didn't the people who saw him try and
catch him?" asked Bunting suddenly.

  And Mrs. Bunting broke in, in a lower voice, "Yes,
Joe - that seems odd, don't it?"

  Joe Chandler coughed. "Well, it's this way," he
said. "No one person did see all that. The man who's described here
is just made up from the description of two different folk who
think they saw him. You see, the murders must have taken place -
well, now, let me see - perhaps at two o'clock this last time. Two
o'clock - that's the idea. Well, at such a time as that not many
people are about, especially on a foggy night. Yes, one woman
declares she saw a young chap walking away from the spot where
'twas done; and another one - but that was a good bit later - says
The Avenger passed by her. It's mostly her they're following in
this 'ere description. And then the boss who has charge of that
sort of thing looked up what other people had said - I mean when
the other crimes was committed. That's how he made up this
'Wanted."'

  "Then The Avenger may be quite a different sort of
man?" said Bunting slowly, disappointedly.

  "Well, of course he may be. But, no; I think that
description fits him all right," said Chandler; but he also spoke
in a hesitating voice.

  "You was saying, Joe, that they found a weapon?"
observed Bunting insinuatingly.

  He was glad that Ellen allowed the discussion to go
on - in fact, that she even seemed to take an intelligent interest
in it. She had come up close to them, and now looked quite her old
self again.

  "Yes. They believe they've found the weapon what he
does his awful deeds with," said Chandler. "At any rate, within a
hundred yards of that little dark passage where they found the
bodies - one at each end, that was - there was discovered this
morning a very peculiar kind o' knife - 'keen as a razor, pointed
as a dagger' - that's the exact words the boss used when he was
describing it to a lot of us. He seemed to think a lot more of that
clue than of the other - I mean than of the description people gave
of the chap who walked quickly by with a newspaper parcel. But now
there's a pretty job in front of us. Every shop where they sell or
might a' sold, such a thing as that knife, including every
eating-house in the East End, has got to be called at!"

  "Whatever for?" asked Daisy.

  "Why, with an idea of finding out if anyone saw such
a knife fooling about there any time, and, if so, in whose
possession it was at the time. But, Mr. Bunting" - Chandler's voice
changed; it became businesslike, official - "they're not going to
say anything about that - not in newspapers - till to-morrow, so
don't you go and tell anybody. You see, we don't want to frighten
the fellow off. If he knew they'd got his knife - well, he might
just make himself scarce, and they don't want that! If it's
discovered that any knife of that kind was sold, say a month ago,
to some customer whose ways are known, then - then - "

  "What'll happen then?" said Mrs. Bunting, coming
nearer.

  "Well, then, nothing'll be put about it in the
papers at all," said Chandler deliberately. "The only objec' of
letting the public know about it would be if nothink was found - I
mean if the search of the shops, and so on, was no good. Then, of
course, we must try and find out someone - some private
person-like, who's watched that knife in the criminal's possession.
It's there the reward - the five hundred pounds will come in.

  "Oh, I'd give anything to see that knife!" exclaimed
Daisy, clasping her hands together.

  "You cruel, bloodthirsty, girl!" cried her
stepmother passionately.

  They all looked round at her, surprised.

  "Come, come, Ellen!" said Bunting reprovingly.

  "Well, it is a horrible idea!" said his wife
sullenly. "To go and sell a fellow-being for five hundred
pounds."

  But Daisy was offended. "Of course I'd like to see
it!" she cried defiantly. "I never said nothing about the reward.
That was Mr. Chandler said that! I only said I'd like to see the
knife."

  Chandler looked at her soothingly. "Well, the day
may come when you will see it," he said slowly.

  A great idea had come into his mind.

  "No! What makes you think that?"

  "If they catches him, and if you comes along with me
to see our Black Museum at the Yard, you'll certainly see the
knife, Miss Daisy. They keeps all them kind of things there. So if,
as I say, this weapon should lead to the conviction of The Avenger
- well, then, that knife 'ull be there, and you'll see' it!"

  "The Black Museum? Why, whatever do they have a
museum in your place for?" asked Daisy wonderingly. "I thought
there was only the British Museum - "

  And then even Mrs. Bunting, as well as Bunting and
Chandler, laughed aloud.

  "You are a goosey girl!" said her father fondly.
"Why, there's a lot of museums in London; the town's thick with
'em. Ask Ellen there. She and me used to go to them kind of places
when we was courting - if the weather was bad."

  "But our museum's the one that would interest Miss
Daisy," broke in Chandler eagerly. "It's a regular Chamber of
'Orrors!"

  "Why, Joe, you never told us about that place
before," said Bunting excitedly. "D'you really mean that there's a
museum where they keeps all sorts of things connected with crimes?
Things like knives murders have been committed with?"

  "Knives?" cried Joe, pleased at having become the
centre of attention, for Daisy had also fixed her blue eyes on him,
and even Mrs. Bunting looked at him expectantly. "Much more than
knives, Mr. Bunting! Why, they've got there, in little bottles, the
real poison what people have been done away with."

  "And can you go there whenever you like?" asked
Daisy wonderingly. She had not realised before what extraordinary
and agreeable privileges are attached to the position of a
detective member of the London Police Force.

  "Well, I suppose I could - " Joe smiled. "Anyway I
can certainly get leave to take a friend there." He looked
meaningly at Daisy, and Daisy looked eagerly at him.

  But would Ellen ever let her go out by herself with
Mr. Chandler? Ellen was so prim, so - so irritatingly proper. But
what was this father was saying? "D'you really mean that, Joe?"

  "Yes, of course I do!"

  "Well, then, look here! If it isn't asking too much
of a favour, I should like to go along there with you very much one
day. I don't want to wait till The Avenger's caught " - Bunting
smiled broadly. "I'd be quite content as it is with what there is
in that museum o' yours. Ellen, there " - he looked across at his
wife-" don't agree with me about such things. Yet I don't think I'm
a bloodthirsty man! But I'm just terribly interested in all that
sort of thing - always have been. I used to positively envy the
butler in that Balham Mystery!"

  Again a look passed between Daisy and the young man
- it was a look which contained and carried a great many things
backwards and forwards, such as - "Now, isn't it funny that your
father should want to go to such a place? But still, I can't help
it if he does want to go, so we must put up with his company,
though it would have been much nicer for us to go just by our two
selves." And then Daisy's look answered quite as plainly, though
perhaps Joe didn't read her glance quite as clearly as she had read
his: "Yes, it is tiresome. But father means well; and 'twill be
very pleasant going there, even if he does come too."

  "Well, what d'you say to the day after to-morrow,
Mr. Bunting? I'd call for you here about - shall we say half-past
two? - and just take you and Miss Daisy down to the Yard.
'Twouldn't take very long; we could go all the way by bus, right
down to Westminster Bridge." He looked round at his hostess:
"Wouldn't you join us, Mrs. Bunting? 'Tis truly a wonderful
interesting place."

  But his hostess shook her head decidedly. "'Twould
turn me sick," she exclaimed, "to see the bottle of poison what had
done away with the life of some poor creature!

  "And as for knives - !" a look of real horror, of
startled fear, crept over her pale face.

  "There, there!" said Bunting hastily. "Live and let
live - that's what I always say. Ellen ain't on in this turn. She
can just stay at home and mind the cat - I beg his pardon, I mean
the lodger!"

  "I won't have Mr. Sleuth laughed at," said Mrs.
Bunting darkly. "But there! I'm sure it's very kind of you, Joe, to
think of giving Bunting and Daisy such a rare treat " - she spoke
sarcastically, but none of the three who heard her understood
that.

  
T
he moment she
passed though the great arched door which admits the stranger to
that portion of New Scotland Yard where throbs the heart of that
great organism which fights the forces of civilised crime, Daisy
Bunting felt that she had indeed become free of the Kingdom of
Romance. Even the lift in which the three of them were whirled up
to one of the upper floors of the huge building was to the girl a
new and delightful experience. Daisy had always lived a simple,
quiet life in the little country town where dwelt Old Aunt and this
was the first time a lift had come her way.