Part 5 (2/2)
”And you think you can do it?”
”I think I'm going to have a big try at it.”
Breton shrugged his shoulders again.
”What?--by going up to every man who answers the description, and saying 'Sir, are you the man who accompanied John Marbury to the Aglo----”
Spargo suddenly interrupted him.
”Look here!” he said. ”Didn't you say that you knew a man who lives in that block in the entry of which Marbury was found?”
”No, I didn't,” answered Breton. ”It was Mr. Elphick who said that. All the same, I do know that man--he's Mr. Cardlestone, another barrister.
He and Mr. Elphick are friends--they're both enthusiastic philatelists--stamp collectors, you know--and I dare say Mr. Elphick was round there last night examining something new Cardlestone's got hold of. Why?”
”I'd like to go round there and make some enquiries,” replied Spargo.
”If you'd be kind enough to----”
”Oh, I'll go with you!” responded Breton, with alacrity. ”I'm just as keen about this business as you are, Spargo! I want to know who this man Marbury is, and how he came to have my name and address on him.
Now, if I had been a well-known man in my profession, you know, why--”
”Yes,” said Spargo, as they got into a cab, ”yes, that would have explained a lot. It seems to me that we'll get at the murderer through that sc.r.a.p of paper a lot quicker than through Rathbury's line. Yes, that's what I think.”
Breton looked at his companion with interest.
”But--you don't know what Rathbury's line is,” he remarked.
”Yes, I do,” said Spargo. ”Rathbury's gone off to discover who the man is with whom Marbury left the Anglo-Orient Hotel last night. That's his line.” ”And you want----?”
”I want to find out the full significance of that bit of paper, and who wrote it,” answered Spargo. ”I want to know why that old man was coming to you when he was murdered.”
Breton started.
”By Jove!” he exclaimed. ”I--I never thought of that. You--you really think he was coming to me when he was struck down?”
”Certain. Hadn't he got an address in the Temple? Wasn't he in the Temple? Of course, he was trying to find you.”
”But--the late hour?”
”No matter. How else can you explain his presence in the Temple? I think he was asking his way. That's why I want to make some enquiries in this block.”
It appeared to Spargo that a considerable number of people, chiefly of the office-boy variety, were desirous of making enquiries about the dead man. Being luncheon-hour, that bit of Middle Temple Lane where the body was found, was thick with the inquisitive and the sensation-seeker, for the news of the murder had spread, and though there was nothing to see but the bare stones on which the body had lain, there were more open mouths and staring eyes around the entry than Spargo had seen for many a day. And the nuisance had become so great that the occupants of the adjacent chambers had sent for a policeman to move the curious away, and when Spargo and his companion presented themselves at the entry this policeman was being lectured as to his duties by a little weazen-faced gentleman, in very snuffy and old-fas.h.i.+oned garments, and an ancient silk hat, who was obviously greatly exercised by the unwonted commotion.
”Drive them all out into the street!” exclaimed this personage. ”Drive them all away, constable--into Fleet Street or upon the Embankment--anywhere, so long as you rid this place of them. This is a disgrace, and an inconvenience, a nuisance, a----”
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