Part 39 (2/2)
Davidge suddenly rose from his chair, nudging Triffitt as he moved. He laughed--and the laugh made Burchill start to his feet.
”You needn't trouble yourself, Mr. Burchill!” said Davidge. ”Much obliged to you for your talk, there's nothing like letting some folks wag their tongues till they're tired. I know who murdered Jacob Herapath as well as you do, and who your Mr. X. is. Jacob Herapath, gentlemen,”
he added, turning to his astonished listeners, ”was shot dead and robbed by his office manager, James Frankton, and if James Frankton's eating his Sunday supper in peace and quietness, it's in one of our cells, for I arrested him at seven o'clock this very evening--and with no help from you, Mr. Burchill! I'm not quite such a fool as I may look, my lad, and if I made one mistake when I let you slip I didn't make another when I got on the track of the real man. And now, ma'am,” he concluded, with an old-fas.h.i.+oned bow to Mrs. Engledew, ”there's no more to be said--by me, at all events, and I've the honour to wish you a good night. Mr.
Triffitt--we'll depart.”
Outside, Davidge took the reporter's arm in a firm grip, and chuckled as he led him towards the elevator.
”That's surprise one!” he whispered. ”Wait till we get downstairs and into the street, and you'll have another, and it'll be of a bit livelier nature!”
CHAPTER x.x.xV
THE SECOND WARRANT
Davidge preserved a strict silence as he and Triffitt went down in the elevator, but when they had reached the ground floor he took the reporter's arm again, and as they crossed the entrance hall gave it a significant squeeze.
”You'll see two or three rather heavy swells, some of 'em in evening dress, hanging about the door,” he murmured. ”Look like residents, coming in or going out, puffing their cigars and their cigarettes, eh?
They're my men--all of 'em! Take no notice--there'll be your friend Carver outside--I gave him a hint. Join him, and hang about--you'll have something to do a bit of newspaper copy about presently.”
Triffitt, greatly mystified, joined Carver at the edge of the pavement outside the wide entrance door. Glancing around him he saw several men lounging about--two, of eminently military appearance, with evening dress under their overcoats, stood chatting on the lower steps; two or three others, all very prosperous looking, were talking close by. There was nothing in their outward show to arouse suspicion--at any other time, and under any other circ.u.mstances Triffitt would certainly have taken them for residents of the Herapath Flats. Carver, however, winked at him.
”Detectives,” he said. ”They've gathered here while you were upstairs.
What's up now, Triffitt? Heard anything?”
”Piles!” answered Triffitt. ”Heaps! But I don't know what this is all about. Some new departure. Hullo!--here's the secretary and the Professor.”
c.o.x-Raythwaite and Selwood just then appeared at the entrance door and began to descend the steps. Davidge, who had stopped on the steps to speak to a man, hailed and drew them aside.
”What has gone on up there?” asked Carver. ”Anything really----”
Triffitt suddenly grasped his companion's shoulder, twisting him round towards the door. His lips emitted a warning to silence; his eyes signalled Carver to look.
Burchill came out of the doors, closely followed by Dimambro. Jauntily swinging his walking-cane he began to descend, affecting utter unconsciousness of the presence of c.o.x-Raythwaite, Selwood, and Davidge.
He pa.s.sed close by the men in evening dress, brus.h.i.+ng the sleeve of one.
And the man thus brushed turned quickly, and his companion turned too--and then something happened that made the two reporters exclaim joyfully and run up the steps.
”Gad!--that was quick--quick!” exclaimed Triffitt, with the delight of a schoolboy. ”Never saw the bracelets put on more neatly. Bully for you, Davidge, old man!--got him this time, anyhow!”
Burchill, taken aback by the sudden onslaught of Davidge's satellites, drew himself up indignantly and looked down at his bands, around the wrists of which his captors had snapped a pair of handcuffs. He lifted a face white with rage and pa.s.sion and glanced at c.o.x-Raythwaite and Selwood.
”Liars!” he hissed between his teeth. ”You gave me safe conduct! It was understood that I was to come and go without interference, you hounds!”
”Not with me, nor I should think with anybody, my lad,” exclaimed Davidge, bustling forward. ”Not likely! You forget that you're under arrest for the old charge yet, and though you'll get off for that, you won't go scot-free, my friend! I've got a second warrant for you, and the charge'll be read to you when you get to the station. You'll clear yourself of the charge of murder, but not of t'other charge, I'm thinking!”
”Second warrant! Another charge!” growled Burchill. ”What charge?”
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