by Sax Rohmer
IX
THE MAN IN BLACK
Mrs. Brian started back, with a wild look, a trapped look, in her eyes.
"What's he done?" she inquired. "What's he done? Tom's not doneanything!"
"Be good enough to waken him," persisted the inspector. "I wish to speakto him."
Mrs. Brian walked slowly from the room and could be heard entering onefurther along the passage. An angry snarling, suggesting that of a wildanimal disturbed in its lair, proclaimed the arousing of Taximan ThomasBrian. A thick voice inquired, brutally, why the sanguinary hell he (Mr.Brian) had had his bloodstained slumbers disturbed in this gory mannerand who was the vermilion blighter responsible.
Then Mrs. Brian's voice mingled with that of her husband, and bothbecame subdued. Finally, a slim man, who wore a short beard, or hadomitted to shave for some days, appeared at the door of the living-room.His face was another history upon the same subject as that which mightbe studied from the walls, the floor, and the appointments of the room.Inspector Dunbar perceived that the shadow of the neighboring hostelryoverlay this home.
"What's up?" inquired the new arrival.
The tone of his voice, thickened by excess, was yet eloquent of thegentleman. The barriers passed, your pariah gentleman can be thecompletest blackguard of them all. He spoke coarsely, and the infectiousCockney accent showed itself in his vowels; but Dunbar, a trainedobserver, summed up his man in a moment and acted accordingly.
"Come in and shut the door!" he directed. "No"--as Mrs. Brian sought toenter behind her husband--"I wish to speak with you, privately."
"Hop it!" instructed Brian, jerking his thumb over his shoulder--andMrs. Brian obediently disappeared, closing the door.
"Now," said Dunbar, looking the man up and down, "have you been into thedepot, to-day?"
"No."
"But you have heard that there's an inquiry?"
"I've heard nothing. I've been in bed."
"We won't argue about that. I'll simply put a question to you: Wheredid you pick up the fare that you dropped at Palace Mansions at twelveo'clock last night?"
"Palace Mansions!" muttered Brian, shifting uneasily beneath theunflinching stare of the tawny eyes. "What d'you mean? What PalaceMansions?"
"Don't quibble!" warned Dunbar, thrusting out a finger at him. "This isnot a matter of a loss of license; it's a life job!"
"Life job!" whispered the man, and his weak face suddenly relaxed,so that, oddly, the old refinement shone out through the new, vulgarveneer.
"Answer my questions straight and square and I'll take your word thatyou have not seen the inquiry!" said Dunbar.
"Dick Hamper's done this for me!" muttered Brian. "He's a dirty, lowswine! Somebody'll do for him one night!"
"Leave Hamper out of the question," snapped Dunbar. "You put down a fareat Palace Mansions at twelve o'clock last night?"
For one tremendous moment, Brian hesitated, but the good that was inhim, or the evil--a consciousness of wrongdoing, or of retributionpending--respect for the law, or fear of its might--decided his course.
"I did."
"It was a man?"
Again Brian, with furtive glance, sought to test his opponent; but hisopponent was too strong for him. With Dunbar's eyes upon his face, hechose not to lie.
"It was a woman."
"How was she dressed?"
"In a fur motor-coat--civet fur."
The man of culture spoke in those two words, "civet fur"; and Dunbarnodded quickly, his eyes ablaze at the importance of the evidence.
"Was she alone?"
"She was."
"What fare did she pay you?"
"The meter only registered eightpence, but she gave me half-a-crown."
"Did she appear to be ill?"
"Very ill. She wore no hat, and I supposed her to be in evening dress.She almost fell as she got out of the cab, but managed to get intothe hall of Palace Mansions quickly enough, looking behind her all thetime."
Inspector Dunbar shot out the hypnotic finger again.
"She told you to wait!" he asserted, positively. Brian looked to rightand left, up and down, thrusting his hands into his coat pockets, andtaking them out again to stroke his collarless neck. Then:--
"She did--yes," he admitted.
"But you were bribed to drive away? Don't deny it! Don't dare to triflewith me, or by God! you'll spend the night in Brixton Jail!"
"It was made worth my while," muttered Brian, his voice beginning tobreak, "to hop it."
"Who paid you to do it?"
"A man who had followed all the way in a big car."
"That's it! Describe him!"
"I can't! No, no! you can threaten as much as you like, but I can'tdescribe him. I never saw his face. He stood behind me on the near sideof the cab, and just reached forward and pushed a flyer under my nose."
Inspector Dunbar searched the speaker's face closely--and concluded thathe was respecting the verity.
"How was he dressed?"
"In black, and that's all I can tell you about him."
"You took the money?"
"I took the money, yes"...
"What did he say to you?"
"Simply: 'Drive off.'"
"Did you take him to be an Englishman from his speech?"
"No; he was not an Englishman. He had a foreign accent."
"French? German?"
"No," said Brian, looking up and meeting the glance of the fierce eyes."Asiatic!"
Inspector Dunbar, closely as he held himself in hand, started slightly.
"Are you sure?"
"Certainly. Before I--when I was younger--I traveled in the East, and Iknow the voice and intonation of the cultured Oriental."
"Can you place him any closer than that?"
"No, I can't venture to do so." Brian's manner was becoming,momentarily, more nearly that of a gentleman. "I might be leading youastray if I ventured a guess, but if you asked me to do so, I should sayhe was a Chinaman."
"A CHINAMAN?" Dunbar's voice rose excitedly.
"I think so."
"What occurred next?"
"I turned my cab and drove off out of the Square."
"Did you see where the man went?"
"I didn't. I saw nothing of him beyond his hand."
"And his hand?"
"He wore a glove."
"And now," said Dunbar, speaking very slowly, "where did you pick upyour fare?"
"In Gillingham Street, near Victoria Station."
"From a house?"
"Yes, from Nurse Proctor's."
"Nurse Proctor's! Who is Nurse Proctor?"
Brian shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, which obviouslybelonged to an earlier phase of existence.
"She keeps a nursing home," he said--"for ladies."
"Do you mean a maternity home?"
"Not exactly; at least I don't think so. Most of her clients are societyladies, who stay there periodically."
"What are you driving at?" demanded Dunbar. "I have asked you if it is amaternity home."
"And I have replied that it isn't. I am only giving you facts; you don'twant my surmises."
"Who hailed you?"
"The woman did--the woman in the fur coat. I was just passing the doorvery slowly when it was flung open with a bang, and she rushed out asthough hell were after her. Before I had time to pull up, she threwherself into my cab and screamed: 'Palace Mansions! Westminster!' Ireached back and shut the door, and drove right away."
"When did you see that you were followed?"
"We were held up just outside the music hall, and looking back, I sawthat my fare was dreadfully excited. It didn't take me long to find outthat the cause of her excitement was a big limousine, three or four backin the block of traffic. The driver was some kind of an Oriental, too,although I couldn't make him out very clearly."
"Good!" snapped Dunbar; "that's important! But you saw nothing more ofthis car?"...
"I saw it follow me into the Square."
"Then
where did it wait?"
"I don't know; I didn't see it again."
Inspector Dunbar nodded rapidly.
"Have you ever driven women to or from this Nurse Proctor's before?"
"On two other occasions, I have driven ladies who came from there. Iknew they came from there, because it got about amongst us that the tallwoman in nurse's uniform who accompanied them was Nurse Proctor."
"You mean that you didn't take these women actually from the door of thehouse in Gillingham Street, but from somewhere adjacent?"
"Yes; they never take a cab from the door. They always walk to thecorner of the street with a nurse, and a porter belonging to the housebrings their luggage along."
"The idea is secrecy?"
"No doubt. But as I have said, the word was passed round."
"Did you know either of these other women?"
"No; but they were obviously members of good society."
"And you drove them?"
"One to St. Pancras, and one to Waterloo," said Brian, droppingback somewhat into his coarser style, and permitting a slow grin tooverspread his countenance.
"To catch trains, no doubt?"
"Not a bit of it! To MEET trains!"
"You mean?"
"I mean that their own private cars were waiting for them at the ARRIVALplatform as I drove 'em up to the DEPARTURE platform, and that theysimply marched through the station and pretended to have arrived bytrain!"
Inspector Dunbar took out his notebook and fountain-pen, and began totap his teeth with the latter, nodding his head at the same time.
"You are sure of the accuracy of your last statement?" he said, raisinghis eyes to the other.
"I followed one of them," was the reply, "and saw her footman gravelytake charge of the luggage which I had just brought from Victoria; and apal of mine followed the other--the Waterloo one, that was."
Inspector Dunbar scribbled busily. Then:--
"You have done well to make a clean breast of it," he said. "Take astraight tip from me. Keep off the drink!"
