Part 97 (1/2)
WHICH TELLS HOW AND WHY MR. SHRIG'S CASE WAS SPOILED
”Why,” exclaimed Barnabas, starting, ”is that you, Mr. Shrig?”
”As ever vas, sir. I ain't partial to disguises as a rule, but circ.u.mstances obleeges me to it now and then,” sighed Mr. Shrig as they turned into Hatton Garden. ”Ye see, I've been keeping a eye--or as you might say, a fatherly ogle on vun o' my fambly, vich is the v'y and the v'erefore o' these 'ere v'iskers. Yesterday, I vas a market gerdener, vith a basket o' fine wegetables as n.o.body 'ad ordered,--the day afore, a sailor-man out o' furrin parts, as vos a-seeking and a-searchin' for a gray-'eaded feyther as didn't exist,--to-day I'm a riverside cove as 'ad found a letter--a letter as I'd stole--”
”Stolen!” repeated Barnabas.
”Vell, let's say borreyed, sir,--borreyed for purposes o' obserwation, --out o' young Barrymaine's pocket, and werry neatly I done it too!”
Here Mr. Shrig chuckled softly, checked himself suddenly, and shook his placid head. ”But life ain't all lavender, sir,--not by no manner o' means, it ain't,” said he dolefully. ”Things is werry slack vith me,--nothing in the murder line this veek, and only vun sooicide, a couple o' 'ighvay robberies, and a 'sault and battery!
You can scrag me if I know v'ot things is coming to. And then, to make it vorse, I 've jest 'ad a loss as vell.”
”I'm sorry for that, Mr. Shrig, but--”
”A loss, sir, as I shan't get over in a 'urry. You'll remember V'istlin' d.i.c.k, p'r'aps,--the leary, flash cove as you give such a leveller to, the first time as ever I clapped my day-lights on ye?”
”Yes, I remember him.”
”Veil sir,' e's been and took, and gone, and got 'isself kicked to death by an 'orse!”
”Eh,--a horse?” exclaimed Barnabas, starting.
”An 'orse, sir, yes. Vich I means to say is coming it a bit low down on _me_, sir,--sich conduct ain't 'ardly fair, for V'istlin' d.i.c.k vos a werry promising cove as Capitals go. And now to see 'im cut off afore 'is time, and in such a outrageous, onnat'ral manner, touches me up, Mr. Barty, sir,--touches me up werry sharp it do! For arter all, a nice, strong gibbet vith a good long drop is qvicker, neater, and much more pleasant than an 'orse's 'oof,--now ain't it?
Still,” said Mr. Shrig, sighing and shaking his head again, ”things is allus blackest afore the dawn, sir, and--'twixt you and me,--I'm 'oping to bring off a nice little murder case afore long--”
”Hoping?”
”Veil--let's say--expecting, sir. Quite a bang up affair it'll be too,--n.o.bs, all on 'em, and there's three on 'em concerned. I'll call the murderer Number Vun, Number Two is the accessory afore the fact, and Number Three is the unfort'nate wictim. Now sir, from private obserwation, the deed is doo to be brought off any time in the next three veeks, and as soon as it's done, v'y then I lays my right 'and on Number Vun, and my left 'and on Number Two, and--”
”But--what about Number Three?” inquired Barnabas.
Mr. Shrig paused, glanced at Barnabas, and scratched his ear, thoughtfully.
”V'y sir,” said he at last, ”Number Three vill be a corp.”
”A what?” said Barnabas.
”A corp, sir--a stiff--”
”Do you mean--dead?”
”Ah,--I mean werry much so!” nodded Mr. Shrig.
”Number Three vill be stone cold,--somev'eres in the country it'll 'appen, I fancy,--say in a vood! And the leaves'll keep a-fluttering over 'im, and the birds'll keep a-singing to 'im,--oh, Number Three'll be comfortable enough,--'e von't 'ave to vorry about nothink no more, it'll be Number Vun and Number Two as'll do the vorrying, and me--till I gets my 'ooks on 'em, and then--”
”But,” said Barnabas earnestly, ”why not try to prevent it?”
”Prewent it, sir?” said Mr. Shrig, in a tone of pained surprise.
”Prewent it? Lord, Mr. Barty, sir--then vere vould my murder case be?
Besides, I ain't so onprofessional as to step in afore my time.