Part 10 (1/2)

Those words had fallen more sweetly upon the ears of Chief Inspector Kerry than any encomium of the boy's learning could have done. On the purely scholastic side his report was not a good one, admittedly. ”But,”

murmured Kerry aloud, ”he's going to be a man.”

He remembered that he had promised, despite the lateness of the hour, to telephone the lad directly he had received a certain report, and to tell him whether he might wait up for his return or whether he must turn in.

Kerry, stamping his small, neatly shod feet upon the pavement, smiled agreeably. He was thinking of the telephone which recently he had had installed in his house in Brixton. His wife had demanded this as a Christmas box, pointing out how many uneasy hours she would be spared by the installation. Kerry had consented cheerfully enough, for was he not shortly to be promoted to the exalted post of a superintendent of the Criminal Investigation Department?

These reflections were cheering and warming; and, waiting until a gap occurred in the stream of cabs and cars, he crossed Piccadilly and proceeded along Bond Street, swinging his shoulders in a manner which would have enabled any constable in the force to recognize ”Red Kerry”

at a hundred yards.

The fierce eyes scrutinized the occupants of all the lighted cars. At pedestrians also he stared curiously, and at another smaller group of travellers waiting for the buses on the left-hand side of the street he looked hard and long. He pursued his way, acknowledged the salutation of a porter who stood outside the entrance to the Emba.s.sy Club, and proceeded, glancing about him right and left and with some evident and definite purpose.

A constable standing at the corner of Conduit Street touched his helmet as Kerry pa.s.sed and the light of an arc-lamp revealed the fierce red face. The Chief Inspector stopped, turned, and:

”What the devil's the idea?” he demanded.

He snapped out the words in such fas.h.i.+on that the unfortunate constable almost believed he could see sparks in the misty air.

”I'm sorry, sir, but recognizing you suddenly like, I----”

”You did?” the fierce voice interrupted. ”How long in the force?”

”Six months, sir.”

”Never salute an officer in plain clothes.”

”I know, sir.”

”Then why did you do it?”

”I told you, sir.”

”Then tell me again.”

”I forgot.”

”You're paid to remember; bear it in mind.”

Kerry tucked his malacca under his arm and walked on, leaving the unfortunate policeman literally stupefied by his first encounter with the celebrated Chief Inspector.

Presently another line of cars proclaimed the entrance to a club, and just before reaching the first of these Kerry paused. A man stood in a shadowy doorway, and:

”Good evening, Chief Inspector,” he said quietly.

”Good evening, Durham. Anything to report?”

”Yes. Lou Chada is here again.”

”With whom?”

”Lady Rourke.”