“The same as Dangle’s?”
“The same as Dangle’s, or rather, to be strictly accurate, Dangle’s is the same as Blessington’s. Blessington lives at this place and has for several years; Dangle joined him about six weeks ago, to be precise, on the day after the incident which I have just forgotten.”
Cheyne nodded with a rueful smile.
“Well, then, these men’s occupations?”
Mr. Speedwell was not to be hurried.
“Fourth question,” he proceeded methodically, “Dangle’s occupation. Dangle, Mr. Cheyne, is just an ordinary town sharp. He has a bit of money and adds to it in the usual ways. He’s in with a cardsharping gang and helps them in their stunts—for a consideration. He frequents a West End gaming room, and if there is any fat pigeon around he’ll lend a hand in the plucking. The sister helps as a decoy. They’re a warm pair and I should think are watched by the police. They’ll not want their dealings with you to come into the limelight anyway, so you’ve a pull over them there.”
“Has Dangle no ostensible profession?”
“Not that I know of, unless you call billiard playing a profession.”
“You might give me the address of the gaming rooms.”
“27 Greenway Lane, Knightsbridge.”