“How do you know?” asked Latimer, while Miss Grison sniffed disdainfully.
“Jotty told me.”
“Yuss,” said the boy, brisking up, for he had nodded in a sleepy way during the recital, “he guv me a quid fur tellin’ him; he wantin’ thet there blessed peacock, somehow.”
“But how did you know Miss Grison had it Jotty?” questioned Alan.
“Sawr it afore him es was good t’ me was buried. I wen up t’ ’er house in Bloomsbury es I’d orfen gone afore, fur him es was good t’ me, and I ses as ’er brother was a deader. Sh’ sawr me in ’er room an’ I sawr ’er smuggle awaiy thet peacock and thet thing,” and Jotty pointed to the stiletto, which was lying on the table where Moon had thrown it.
“You liar! oh, you little liar!” shrieked Miss Grison, shaking her fist.
“It’s trewth, fur sure,” insisted Jotty, “an’ cos I knowed too much, y’ tuck me int’ yer bloomin’ ouse an’ guv me thet button suit. I didn’t say nuffin, I didn’t, es y’ wasn’t a bad ole gal, an I oped t’ maike quids out of y’. An’ when y’ come daown ’ere, t’ the fun’rel of him es was good t’ me, y’ tuck awaiy thet peacock an’ thet stabbin’ thing. Oh, I kep’ m’ eye peeled, y’ bet, fur I wanted thet peacock m’self, wuth plenty of quids it is anyhow. Sawr’s y’ packin’ them in a bag when y’ thought es I wasn’t lookin’. But I ain’t no fool, nohow, tho’ y’ did git me t’ help t’ git thet Sorley cove int’ trouble.”
“How was that, Jotty,” asked the inspector while Miss Grison ripped her handkerchief to shreds in silent anger.
“Why sh’ fun’ out es I’d got that letter fro’ him,” he pointed to Sorley “an’ she ses, as I’d better taike it t’ Mr. Fuller there, who’d give me quids fur it anyhow. An’ I did, gettin’ two quids fur it. An’ then I was ’opin’ t’ git more quids fro the Sorley cove, and comes daown ’ere t’ saiy es the gaim was up, an’ show’d him th’ noospaiper. She,” he indicated Miss Grison with his chin, “made me tell ’er as Mr. Sorley ’ad the peacock, es I’d seen the doring of it on Mr. Fuller’s taible and missus she ses as there wasn’t no dorin’ maid, an’ thet Mr. Fuller mus’ ’ave got it fro’ the Sorley cove. ‘An’ ses she, ‘he’s cort naow, so I’ll tell the noospaipers es my poor brother was killed for the bloomin’ peacock’s saik.’ An——”
“Lies! lies! all lies!” cried Miss Grison, who had been gradually working herself up into a passion “you want to save that beast of a husband of mine, you know you do, you know you do.”