not know?" pleaded Hutchins,rather crest-fallen. "It won't go any further."
Carrados laughed quietly to himself as he felt Margaret Hutchins'sstartled and questioning eyes attempting to read his mind. He shookhands with the engine-driver without further comment, however, andwalked out into the commonplace little street under Parkinson'sunobtrusive guidance.
"Very nice of Miss Hutchins to go into half-mourning, Parkinson," heremarked as they went along. "Thoughtful, and yet not ostentatious."
"Yes, sir," agreed Parkinson, who had long ceased to wonder at hismaster's perceptions.
"The Romans, Parkinson, had a saying to the effect that gold carriesno smell. That is a pity sometimes. What jewellery did Miss Hutchinswear?"
"Very little, sir. A plain gold brooch representing amerry-thought--the merry-thought of a sparrow, I should say, sir. Theonly other article was a smooth-backed gun-metal watch, suspended froma gun-metal bow."
"Nothing showy or expensive, eh?"
"Oh dear no, sir. Quite appropriate for a young person of herposition."
"Just what I should have expected." He slackened his pace. "We arepassing a hoarding, are we not?"
"Yes, sir."
"We will stand here a moment. Read me the letterpress of the posterbefore us."
"This 'Oxo' one, sir?"
"Yes."
"'Oxo,' sir."
Carrados was convulsed with silent laughter. Parkinson had infinitelymore dignity and conceded merely a tolerant recognition of theludicrous.
"That was a bad shot, Parkinson," remarked his master when he couldspeak. "We will try another."
For three minutes, with scrupulous conscientiousness on the part ofthe reader and every appearance of keen interest on the part of thehearer, there were set forth the particulars of a sale by auction ofsuperfluous timber and builders' material.
"That will do," said Carrados, when the last detail had been reached."We can be seen from the door of No. 107 still?"
"Yes, sir."
"No indication of anyone coming to us from there?"
"No, sir."
Carrados walked thoughtfully on again. In the Holloway Road theyrejoined the waiting motor-car.
"Lambeth Bridge Station" was the order the driver received.
From the station the car was sent on home and Parkinson was instructedto take two first-class singles for Richmond, which could be reachedby changing at Stafford Road. The "evening rush" had not yet commencedand they had no difficulty in finding an empty carriage when the traincame in.
Parkinson was kept busy that journey describing what he saw at variouspoints between Lambeth Bridge and Knight's Cross. For a quarter of amile Carrados's demands on the eyes and the memory of his remarkableservant were wide and incessant. Then his questions ceased. They hadpassed the "stop" signal, east of Knight's Cross Station.
The following afternoon they made the return journey as far asKnight's Cross. This time, however, the surroundings failed tointerest Carrados. "We are going to look at some rooms," was theinformation he offered on the subject, and an imperturbable "Yes, sir"had been the extent of Parkinson's comment on the unusual proceeding.After leaving the station they turned sharply along a road that ranparallel with the line, a dull thoroughfare of substantial, elderlyhouses that were beginning to sink into decrepitude. Here and there acorner residence displayed the brass plate of a professional occupant,but for the most part they were given up to the various branches ofsecond-rate apartment letting.
"The third house after the one with the flagstaff," said Carrados.
Parkinson rang the bell, which was answered by a young servant, whotook an early opportunity of assuring them that she was not tidy as itwas rather early in the afternoon. She informed Carrados, in reply tohis inquiry, that Miss Chubb was at home, and showed them into amelancholy little sitting-room to await her appearance.
"I shall be 'almost' blind here, Parkinson," remarked Carrados,walking about the room. "It saves explanation."
"Very good, sir," replied Parkinson.
Five minutes later, an interval suggesting that Miss Chubb also foundit rather early in the afternoon, Carrados was arranging to take roomsfor his attendant and himself for the short time that he would be inLondon, seeing an oculist.
"One bedroom, mine, must face north," he stipulated. "It has to dowith the light."
Miss Chubb replied that she quite understood. Some gentlemen, sheadded, had their requirements, others their fancies. She endeavouredto suit all. The bedroom she had in view from the first _did_ facenorth. She would not have known, only the last gentleman, curiouslyenough, had made the same request.
"A sufferer like myself?" inquired Carrados affably.
Miss Chubb did not think so. In his case she regarded it merely as afancy. He had said that he could not sleep on any other side. She hadhad to turn out of her own room to accommodate him, but if one kept anapartment-house one had to be adaptable; and Mr. Ghoosh was certainlyvery liberal in his ideas.
"Ghoosh? An Indian gentleman, I presume?" hazarded Carrados.
It appeared that Mr. Ghoosh was an Indian. Miss Chubb confided that atfirst she had been rather perturbed at the idea of taking in "a blackman," as she confessed to regarding him. She reiterated, however, thatMr. Ghoosh proved to be "quite the gentleman." Five minutes ofaffability put Carrados in full possession of Mr. Ghoosh's manner oflife and movements--the dates of his arrival and departure, hissolitariness and his daily habits.
"This would be the best bedroom," said Miss Chubb.
It was a fair-sized room on the first floor. The window looked out onto the roof of an outbuilding; beyond, the deep cutting of the railwayline. Opposite stood the dead wall that Mr. Carlyle had spoken of.
Carrados "looked" round the room with the discriminating glance thatsometimes proved so embarrassing to those who knew him.
"I have to take a little daily exercise," he remarked, walking to thewindow and running his hand up the woodwork. "You will not mind myfixing a 'developer' here, Miss Chubb--a few small screws?"
Miss Chubb thought not. Then she was sure not. Finally she ridiculedthe idea of minding with scorn.
"If there is width enough," mused Carrados, spanning the uprightcritically. "Do you happen to have a wooden foot-rule convenient?"
"Well, to be sure!" exclaimed Miss Chubb, opening a rapid successionof drawers until she produced the required article. "When we did outthis room after Mr. Ghoosh, there was this very ruler among the thingsthat he hadn't thought worth taking. This is what you require, sir?"
"Yes," replied Carrados, accepting it, "I think this is exactly what Irequire." It was a common new white-wood rule, such as one might buyat any small stationer's for a penny. He carelessly took off the widthof the upright, reading the figures with a touch; and then continuedto run a finger-tip delicately up and down the edges of theinstrument.
"Four and seven-eighths," was his unspoken conclusion.
"I hope it will do sir."
"Admirably," replied Carrados. "But I haven't reached the end of myrequirements yet, Miss Chubb."
"No, sir?" said the landlady, feeling that it would be a pleasure tooblige so agreeable a gentleman, "what else might there be?"
"Although I can see very little I like to have a light, but not anykind of light. Gas I cannot do with. Do you think that you would beable to find me an oil lamp?"
"Certainly, sir. I got out a very nice brass lamp that I havespecially for Mr. Ghoosh. He read a good deal of an evening and hepreferred a lamp."
"That is very convenient. I suppose it is large enough to burn for awhole evening?"
"Yes, indeed. And very particular he was always to have it filledevery day."
"A lamp without oil is not very useful," smiled Carrados, followingher towards another room, and absent-mindedly slipping the foot-ruleinto his pocket.
Whatever Parkinson thought of the arrangement of going intosecond-rate apartments in an obscure street it is to be inferred thathis devotion to his master was sufficient to ov
ercome his privateemotions as a self-respecting "man." At all events, as they wereapproaching the station he asked, and without a trace of feeling,whether there were any orders for him with reference to the proposedmigration.
"None, Parkinson," replied his master. "We must be satisfied with ourpresent quarters."
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Parkinson, with some constraint. "Iunderstand that you had taken the rooms for a week certain."
"I am afraid that Miss Chubb will be under the same impression.Unforeseen circumstances will
Four Max Carrados Detective Stories Page 7
