The Herapath Property Part 25

"Wherefore," observed Triffitt sardonically, "you want to make a bit."

"Ain't no harm in a man doing his best for his-elf, guv'nor, I hope,"

said the would-be informant. "If I don't look after myself, who's a-going to look after me--I asks you that, now?"

"And I ask you--how much?" said Triffitt. "Out with it!"

The taxi-cab driver considered, eyeing his prospective customer furtively.

"The other gent told you what it is I can tell, guv'nor?" he said at last. "It's information of what you might call partik'lar importance, is that."

"I know--you can tell the name of the man whom you drove that morning from the corner of Orchard Street to Kensington High Street," replied Triffitt. "It may be important--it mayn't. You see, the police haven't been in any hurry to approach you, have they? Come now, give it a name?"

The informant summoned up his resolution.

"Cash down--on the spot, guv'nor?" he asked.

"Spot cash," replied Triffitt. "On this table!"

"Well--how would a couple o' fivers be, now?" asked the anxious one.

"It's good stuff, guv'nor."

"A couple of fivers will do," answered Triffitt. "And here they are." He took two brand-new, crackling five-pound notes from his pocket, folded them up, laid them on the table, and set a gla.s.s on them. "Now, then!"

he said. "Tell your tale--there's your money when it's told."

The taxi-cab driver eyed the notes, edged his chair further into the half-lighted corner in which Triffitt and Carver sat, and dropped his voice to a whisper.

"All right, guv'nor," he said. "Thanking you. Then it's this here--the man what I drove that morning was the nephew!"

"You mean Mr. Barthorpe Herapath?" said Triffitt, also in a whisper.

"That's him--that's the identical, sir! Of course," continued the informant, "I didn't know nothing of that when I told the old gent in Portman Square what I did tell him. Now, you see, I wasn't called at that inquest down there at Kensington--after what I'd told the old gent, I expected to be, but I wasn't. All the same, there's been a deal of talk around about the corner of Orchard Street, and, of course, there is them in that quarter as knows all the parties concerned, and this man Barthorpe, as you call him, was pointed out to me as the nephew--nephew to him as was murdered that night. And then, of course, I knew it was him as I took up at two o'clock that morning."

"How did you know?" asked Triffitt.

The taxi-cab driver held up a hand and tapped a bra.s.s ring on its third finger.

"Where I wears that ring, gentlemen," he said triumphantly, "he wears a fine diamond--a reg'lar swell 'un. That morning, when he got into my cab, he rested his hand a minute on the door, and the light from one o'

the lamps across the street shone full on the stone. Now, then, when this here Barthorpe was pointed out to me in Orchard Street, a few days ago, as the nephew of Jacob Herapath, he was talking to another gentleman, and as they stood there he lighted a cigar, and when he put his hand up, I see that ring again--no mistaking it, guv'nor! He was the man. And, from what I've read, it seems to me it was him as put on his uncle's coat and hat after the old chap was settled, and----"

"If I were you, I'd keep those theories to myself--yet awhile, at any rate," said Triffitt. "In fact--I want you to. Here!" he went on, removing the gla.s.s and pus.h.i.+ng the folded banknotes towards the taxi-cab driver, "put those in your pocket. And keep your mouth shut about having seen and told me. I shan't make any use--public use, anyway--of what you've said, just yet. If the old gentleman, Tertius, comes to you, or the police come along with or without him, you can tell 'em anything you like--everything you've told me if you please--it doesn't matter, now.

But you're on no account to tell them that I've seen you and that you've spilt to me--do you understand?"

The informant understood readily enough, and promised with equal readiness, even going so far as to say that that would suit him down to the ground.

"All right," said Triffitt, "keep a still tongue as regards me, and there'll be another fiver for you. Now, Carver, we'll get."

Outside Triffitt gave his companion's arm a confidential squeeze.

"Things are going well!" he said. "I wasn't a bit surprised at what that fellow told me--I expected it. What charms me is that Barthorpe Herapath, who is certainly to be strongly suspected, is in touch with Burchill--I didn't tell you that I met him on the stairs at Calengrove Mansions this afternoon. Of course, he was going to see my next-door neighbour! What about, friend Carver?"

"If you could answer your own last question, we should know something,"

replied Carver.

"We know something as it is," said Triffitt. "Enough for me to tell Markledew, anyway. I don't see so far into all this, myself, but Markledew's the sort of chap who can look through three brick walls and see a mole at work in whatever's behind the third, and he'll see something in what I tell him, and I'll do the telling as soon as he comes down tomorrow morning."

Markledew listened to Triffitt's story next day in his usual rapt silence. The silence remained unbroken for some time after Triffitt had finished. And eventually Markledew got up from his elbow-chair and reached for his hat.

"You can come with me," he said. "We'll just ride as far as New Scotland Yard."

Triffitt felt himself turning pale. New Scotland Yard! Was he then to share his discoveries with officials? In spite of his awful veneration for the great man before him he could not prevent two words of despairing e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n escaping from his lips.

"The police!"

"Just so--the police," answered Markledew, calmly. "I mean to work this in connection with them. No need to alarm yourself, young man--I know what you're thinking. But you won't lose any 'kudos'--I'm quite satisfied with you so far. But we can't do without the police--and they may be glad of even a hint from us. Now run down and get a taxi-cab and I'll meet you outside."

Triffitt had never been within the mazes of New Scotland Yard in his life, and had often wished that business would take him there. It was very soon plain to him, however, that his proprietor knew his way about the Criminal Investigation Department as well as he knew the _Argus_ office. Markledew was quickly closeted with the high official who had seen Mr. Halfpenny and Mr. Tertius a few days previously; while they talked, Triffitt was left to kick his heels in a waiting-room. When he was eventually called in, he found not only the high official and Markledew, but another man whose name was presently given to him as Davidge.

"Mr. Davidge," observed the high official, "is in charge of this case.

Will you just tell him your story?"

It appeared to Triffitt that Mr. Davidge was the least impressionable, most stolid man he had ever known. Davidge showed no sign of interest; Triffitt began to wonder if anything could ever surprise him. He listened in dead silence to all that the reporter had to say; when Triffitt had finished he looked apathetically at his superior.

"I think, sir, I will just step round to Mr. Halfpenny's office," he remarked. "Perhaps Mr. Triffitt will accompany me?--then he and I can have a bit of a talk."

Triffitt looked at Markledew: Markledew nodded his big head.

"Go with him," said Markledew. "Work with him! He knows what he's after."

Davidge took Triffitt away to Mr. Halfpenny's office--on the way thither he talked about London fogs, one of which had come down that morning.

But he never mentioned the business in hand until--having left Triffitt outside while he went in--he emerged from Mr. Halfpenny's room. Then he took the reporter's arm and led him away, and his manner changed to one of interest and even enthusiasm.

"Well, young fellow!" he said, leading Triffitt down the street, "you're the chap I wanted to get hold of!--you're a G.o.dsend. And so you really have a flat next to that occupied by the person whom we'll refer to as F. B., eh?"

"I have," answered Triffitt, who was full of wonderment.

"Good--good!--couldn't be better!" murmured the detective. "Now then--I dare say you'd be quite pleased if I called on you at your flat--quietly and un.o.btrusively--at say seven o'clock tonight, eh?"

"Delighted!" answered Triffitt. "Of course!"

"Very good," said Davidge. "Then at seven o'clock tonight I shall be there. In the meantime--not a word. You're curious to know why I'm coming? All right--keep your curiosity warm till I come--I'll satisfy it. Tonight, mind, young man--seven, sharp!"

Then he gave Triffitt's arm a squeeze and winked an eye at him, and at once set off in one direction, while the reporter, mystified and inquisitive, turned in another.

CHAPTER XXI