“Yes, sir,” Penwill said, and Melville wandered off.
“It is funny,” Houllier said. “For two years we have all followed this man around the world. We have gone our separate ways after the adventure in America, and now we are back again to ensnare this bomb thrower and bring him to justice. I am most proud to have worked with you, Charles.”
“And I, you, Prosper,” Penwill said. “Most proud indeed, whatever may happen—”
He stopped and stared down the platform, grabbing Houllier’s forearm.
“What is it?” Houllier asked.
“There, just halfway down the platform, approaching us in the black coat and gray hat. Do you see him? That noticeable limp?”
“Yes…yes, I do, Charles. The right height, and the limp, and look how he tries to shield his face, but you can tell it is our man.”
“Right. Let’s head towards him. He’s about to enter the car. And look over there—it appears Melville is on to him, too.”
“Yes, let us go,” Houllier said urgently.
The two men then started walking down the crowded platform, dodging passengers and weaving through the human traffic, until they came to within ten feet of their quarry. Penwill looked over at Melville, who nodded discretely, and then nodded at Houllier. The car’s doors were opening, and the people were jostling to get onboard, so the two inspectors swiftly moved over behind the unsuspecting anarchist bomber and grabbed his arms. Meunier looked at Penwill and started to struggle as passengers gasped with fear. Meunier managed to wrest one arm free, but then Melville moved in and grabbed it again and, with the other two inspectors helping, shoved the suspect to the platform. Penwill and Houllier then carefully placed handcuffs on the stunned prisoner.
“Well, then, Mister Meunier,” Melville said, standing over him, “my understanding is that you do understand the King’s English, so let me tell you that you are, at long last, under arrest for Attempted Murder and Conspiracy to Commit Murder. You will be handed over to your countrymen and finally meet the justice that has been awaiting you, old man.”
“No!” Meunier yelled out with a thick French accent. “To fall into your hands, Melville! You, the only man I feared, and whose description was engraved on my mind!”
“Well, thank you, my good man,” Melville said, “but it isn’t I whom you should have feared—it’s these two men holding you who chased you to the ends of the earth and back and who tracked you here tonight. They are your true tormentors, Meunier.”
Meunier looked up at Penwill and Houllier and appeared to be searching for words, but he could only gape in confusion and stunned silence.
“Let’s go, Meunier,” Penwill said, lifting him up. “Time to go visit Scotland Yard. We’ll take him back, sir. Thanks for the assistance tonight.”
“Very good, Penwill,” Melville said. “And thank you again Inspector Houllier—it looks like your long chase is finally over.”
“Yes, sir,” Houllier said. “Thank you, very much.”
Penwill then nudged Meunier, and, with Houllier’s help, began to escort him off the platform to a waiting paddy wagon.
“Well, Charles,” Houllier remarked, “I am glad that we got our man finally because I am very hungry at this minute.”
“Oh, really, Prosper?” Penwill said. “Well, that’s just grand because after we let our friend here off at Scotland Yard, I know of a wonderful place on Piccadilly Circus. Just outstanding food. Shall we?”
“Mais oui, my friend,” Houllier said, smiling. “At last—a meal with the one and only Inspector Charlie Penwill of Scotland Yard in the infamous Piccadilly Circus…what could be better?”
The two men then trudged off through the train station, leaving the sounds of trains and whistles, people and horses, behind them in the London night.
The Fall Page 38
