Then I became the youngest inspector in the Christiania police office, and spent about two years in fining young men for disorderly conduct in the streets, and keeping order among the erratic female population of the town.
As you can well understand, it was hardly an occupation likely to attract a man for any length of time, and I explained this to our amiable chief superintendent when, one day, I placed my resignation on his desk.
"Stop a moment, my dear Monk," he said, with his genial smile. "Could you not wait a little, before you hand in this resignation? I must admit I have not found that you possess any special talent, either with regard to arresting drunken students, or as a censor of vice; still, on the other hand, I should be much deceived, after my many years of experience, if you do not find your right sphere in the detective department. Practically every one is aware that it is to you we owe our success in the great post office robbery, although officially you had nothing to do with it; and I, at any rate, know how well you cleared up the Fjorstat murder. For many months I have been thinking of offering you an appointment on the detective force. If you will take your resignation back, you can consider the matter as settled."
I gladly accepted the offer, but not until I had obtained a year's leave; a year which I spent abroad in travel, to study languages and life in the great countries.
I need hardly mention how useful my stay abroad has been to me.
I have no doubt that I found my right vocation when I joined the detective police; especially if I am to take into consideration the overwhelming praise which my superiors gradually poured upon me, or the flattering attention which the papers and the public began to bestow upon me.
Monk paused, and for a few minutes paced up and down the floor, as was his habit when he was deeply occupied in thought.
Well, he continued, I think I have now given you an account of my life until the day when the incident occurred which since has played such an important part in my life, and continues to do so to this very day.
It was a rainy and stormy night at the end of September, about seven years ago, when, wet to the skin, and dead beat, I came driving up to my lodgings in University Street. At that time I always had rooms on the ground floor, so that I could get in and out quickly and unobserved.
I had been on an expedition after some burglars high up on the Egeberg hills. The expedition had been long and irksome, both for myself and my assistants, and without result.