The master criminal

by G. Sidney Paternoster

Detective Inspector Kenly was a married man, and when Mrs. Detective Inspector determined to have her own way, Mr. Detective Inspector, however clever he was at circumventing the wiliest of criminals, invariably succumbed to the wiles of the smiling lady who ruled over his household. Happily any difference between them was rare, but there was one subject upon which they never could agree. The Inspector liked to keep his home to himself. He thought that his good lady had quite enough to do to look after himself and the two little Kenlys. But that was not Mrs. Kenly's opinion at all. She thought that no home was complete without a lodger. To her such a thing as a spare bedroom in her house was an abomination. She looked upon it as so much capital lying idle, instead of being put out at interest with some eligible young man or young woman. When he had taken Woodbine Cottage, Melpomene Road, Wimbledon, Kenly had thought that he should have circumvented Mrs. Kenly's little idiosyncrasy. But there were two attics in the cottage which had not entered into his calculations. It did not occur to him that they could be utilised for any other purpose than as box-rooms. But Mrs. Kenly thought differently. In her eyes they would make quite adequate, if small, bedrooms, so before he had been settled in the house for a month, all the Inspector's arrangements were recast, the youthful Kenlys were relegated to the attics, while the largest bedroom on the first floor was furnished as a bed sitting-room and a card placed in the window announced to all and sundry that "furnished apartments" were to be secured at Woodbine Cottage.

The card did not remain there very long. Woodbine Cottage looked so spick and span; the bright windows, the white curtains, the spotless doorstep, and shining brass knocker were such attractive testimonials to the quality of the accommodation to be found within, that the eligible lodger was speedily secured. For six years Inspector Kenly entertained a single lady of mature years and a small income. He did not repine overmuch, for she had few friends, gave little trouble, and was more or less of a companion to Mrs. Kenly when his business, as it often did, took him away from home.

But, when she left, Inspector Kenly made another effort to persuade his wife to do without "the lodger." In vain he argued that his income was ample for the wants of the household. Mrs. Kenly would not listen. Once again the card appeared in the window, and in due course Cornelius Jessel, passing by, saw it there, and, being at the time in want of a quiet retreat in a really respectable neighbourhood, thought that the apartments, if not too expensive, would suit him. He saw the bed sitting-room. He liked its appearance so well that he paid a week's rent there and then in advance, and thus, when Inspector Kenly returned home one evening, he found that he was once more possessed of a lodger.

Possibly, if Cornelius Jessel had been acquainted with the position and occupation of the head of the household into which he had entered, he might not have been so ready to take possession of the comfortable bed sitting-room. But Inspector Kenly did not think it desirable to blazon abroad his connection with Scotland Yard. He had particularly insisted upon any lodger who entered his house remaining unacquainted with his profession. So Cornelius Jessel had not the slightest idea that he was living under the roof of one of the men whom he had long ago learned to look upon as an enemy. Indeed, he had real reasons to fear the emissaries of law and order. Not that he was by any means a person of importance in the criminal world. He was merely one of those backboneless creatures who have the will but lack the courage to do any daring deed which would make them famous in the annals of crime; one of those poor shrinking, cringing creatures who are content to play the part of jackal to more venturesome spirits, a petty thief sometimes, an astute writer of begging letters at others, a deviser of petty frauds for robbing poor people of a few stamps on every convenient occasion.

As she bent over him a sudden mad impulse to clasp her in his arms seized him.

When he had timidly asked to be shown the vacant apartments in Woodbine Cottage, Mrs. Kenly had decided at once that he would prove amenable to any rules and regulations she might like to impose upon him. He agreed with such a deprecating air to every suggestion she made as to the points which seemed desirable in a well-conducted lodger that her heart quite warmed to him. He thought sixpence a scuttle for coals "most reasonable." He agreed that the room was certainly worth more than the seven and sixpence weekly paid in advance, which Mrs. Kenly demanded for rent and attendance. He exhibited the liveliest satisfaction when Mrs. Kenly informed him that beyond a shilling a week for "gas" she charged "no extras," and came to a most satisfactory arrangement regarding the meals he proposed to take at home, and the price he was to pay for them. Mrs. Kenly thought in her own mind that a bachelor was much more profitable than a maiden of mature years, and congratulated herself on her luck. When she further learned from Cornelius Jessel that he was engaged in "literary pursuits," and would not be disturbed by many callers, though his work might sometimes keep him in the house all day, she thought she was indeed in luck's way, and was fully prepared to defend her action when called upon.

She found it necessary to do so from the first. Inspector Kenly objected most strenuously to the presence of a male lodger in the house. He objected still more when he had made the acquaintance of his new tenant. He disliked Jessel's appearance. The pale hair, pale complexion, pale watery eyes roused his antipathy. He disliked Jessel's manner still more. The lodger did not walk as an ordinary man, he glided from place to place. He glided down the stairs and out of the front door, and he glided in again and up the stairs so that no one ever knew whether he was in or out of the house. His apologetic manner, his dislike of going abroad by day, his abstemiousness, his apparent lack of acquaintances, the very decorum of his habits were to Inspector Kenly reasons for suspicion. The Inspector was no mean judge of men, and he dubbed Jessel thief at sight. "Some day we shall find him and the spoons missing," he said to his wife. She laughed at the idea.

"Well, if that should happen, I shall depend upon you to recover them for me," she replied.

She did not believe that there was any harm in the man. But the Inspector was so certain in his own mind that he spent some hours searching the records at Scotland Yard, after having secured some of his tenant's finger prints by a trick. The search was quite useless. There was no record against him. Hitherto he had always managed to evade the law.