The Stowmarket Mystery Part 35

CHAPTER XX

THE TRAIL

Standing on the steps of the hotel, Brett cast a searching glance along the line of waiting hansoms. He wanted a strong, sure-footed horse, one of those marvellous animals, found only in the streets of London, which trots like a dog, slides down Savoy Street on its hind legs, slips in and out among the traffic like an eel, and covers a steady eight miles an hour for a seemingly indefinite period.

"Shall I whistle for a cab, sir?" said the hall-porter.

"No. You whistle without discrimination," replied the barrister.

He found the stamp of gee-gee he needed fourth on the rank.

"How long has your horse been out of the stable?" he asked the driver.

"I've just driven him here, sir."

"Is he up to a hard day's work?"

"The best t.i.t in London, sir."

"Pull him up to the pavement."

The man obeyed. Instantly his three predecessors on the rank began a chorus:

"'Ere! Wot th'--"

"All right, Jimmy. Wait till--"

"Well, I'm--"

"What is the matter?" inquired Brett, "You fellows always squeal before you are hurt. Here is a fare each for you," and he solemnly gave them a s.h.i.+lling a-piece.

Even then they were not satisfied. They all objurgated Jimmy for his luck as he drove off.

It was an easy matter to find the constable who had been on point duty at the crossing when the "accident" happened. This man produced his note-book containing the number of the Road Car Company's Camden Town and Victoria 'bus, the driver of which had so cleverly avoided a catastrophe. The policeman knew nothing of events prior to the falling of the horse. There was the usual crowd of hurrying people; the scream of a startled woman; a rush of sightseers; and the rescue of Frazer from beneath the prostrate animal.

"Did you chance to notice the destination of the omnibus immediately preceding the Road Car vehicle?" said Brett.

"Yes, sir. It was an Atlas."

"Have you noted the exact time the accident occurred?"

"Here it is, sir--10.45 a.m."

At Victoria he was lucky in hitting upon the Camden Town 'bus itself, drawn up outside the District Railway Station, waiting its turn to enter the enclosure.

The driver was a sharp fellow, and disinclined to answer questions. Brett might be an emissary of the enemy. But a handsome tip and the a.s.surance that a very substantial present would be forwarded to his address by the friends of the gentleman whose life he saved unloosed his tongue.

"I never did see anything like it, sir," he confided. "The road was quite clear, an' I was bowlin' along to get the inside berth from a General just behind, when this yer gent was chucked under the 'osses' 'eds. Bli-me, I would ha' thort 'e was a suicide if I 'adn't seed a bloke shove 'im orf the kerb."

"Oh, you saw that, did you?"

"Couldn't 'elp it, sir. I was lookin' aht for fares. Jack, my mate, sawr it too."

The conductor thus appealed to confirmed the statement. They both described the a.s.sailant as very like his would-be victim in size, appearance, and garments.

Jack said he could do nothing, because the sudden swerving of the 'bus, the fall of the horse, and the instant gathering of a crowd, prevented him from making the attempt to grab the other man, who vanished, he believed, down Whitehall.

"You did not tell the police about the a.s.sault?" inquired Brett.

"Not me, guv'nor," said the driver. "The poor chap in the road was not much 'urt. I knew that, though the mob thort 'e was a dead 'un. An' wot does it mean? A day lost in the polis-court, an' a day lost on my pay-sheet, too."

"Well," said Brett, "the twist you gave to the reins this morning meant several days added to your pay-sheet. Would either of you know the man again if you saw him?"

This needed reflection.

"I wouldn't swear to 'im," was the driver's dictum, "but I would swear to any man bein' like 'im."

"Same 'ere," said the conductor.

The barrister understood their meaning, which had not the general application implied by the words. He obtained the addresses of both men and left them.

His next visit was to an Atlas terminus. Here he had to wait a full hour before the 'bus arrived that had pa.s.sed Trafalgar Square on a south journey at 10.45.

The conductor remembered the sudden stoppage of the Road Car vehicle.

"Ran over a man, sir, didn't it?" he inquired.

"Nearly, not quite. Now, I want you to fix your thoughts on the pa.s.sengers who entered your 'bus at that point. Can you describe them?"

The man smiled.

"It's rather a large order, sir," he said. "I've been past there twice since. If it's anybody you know particular, and you tell me what he was like, I may be able to help you."

Brett would have preferred the conductor's own unaided statement, but seeing no help for it, he gave the man a detailed description of David Hume, plus the beard.

"Has he got black, snaky eyes and high cheek-bones?" the conductor inquired thoughtfully.

The barrister had described a fair man, with brown hair; and the question in no way indicated the colour of the Hume-Frazer eyes. Yet the odd combination caught his attention.

"Yes," he said, "that may be the man."

"Well, sir, I didn't pick him up there, but I dropped him there at nine o'clock. I picked him up at the Elephant, and noticed him particular because he didn't pay the fare for the whole journey, but took penn'orths."

"I am greatly obliged to you. Would you know him again?"

"Among a thousand! He had a funny look, and never spoke. Just shoved a penny out whenever I came on top. Twice I had to refuse it."