He arrived a little before ten o'clock at the appointed rendezvous that evening, and found Barnsley Street to be a drab road connecting the main thoroughfare of Glassmere Road with the prim respectability of Letchley Gardens. Glassmere Road, which the Sergeant knew well, was a busy street, and at the corner of Barosley Street, close to an omnibus stopping-place, was a coffeestall. The Sergeant bought himself a cup of coffee, and entered into idle chat with the proprietor. He was soon joined by Hannasyde, who came walking along the Glassmere Road from an Underground Railway Station a few hundred yards distant.
"Evening," Hannasyde said, nodding to the coffee-stall proprietor. "Not much of a pitch, this, is it?"
"Not bad," replied the man. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I get folks coming out of the Regal Cinema later on. Of course, it's quiet now, but then, it's early. Can't complain."
The Sergeant pushed his empty cup and saucer across the counter, bade the man a cheerful good-night, and strolled away with his superior.
The sky was overcast, and although the daylight had not yet failed entirely, it was growing dark. Barnsley Street, curling round in a half-circle towards Letchley Gardens, was ill lit, a depressing street lined with thin, drab houses. No. 43 was discovered midway down it. A card in the window on the ground-floor advertised Apartments, and a shallow flight of six steps led up to the front door. A light was burning at the top of the house, but the basement was in darkness. "Looks as though we're too early," remarked the Sergeant, pulling the bellknob. "Of course, if he's got a job at a really swell restaurant, it isn't likely he'd be back yet."
"We can but try," Hannasyde replied.
After an interval, the Sergeant pulled the bell again. He was about to pull it a third time when a light appeared in the fanlight over the door, and slip-shod feet were heard approaching inside the house.
The door was opened by a stout lady of disagreeable aspect, who held it slightly ajar, and said pugnaciously: "Well? What do you want? If you've come about lodgings, I'm full up."
"If I had, that would break my heart," said the Sergeant instantly. "I don't know when I've taken such a fancy to anyone as I have to you. Came over me the instant I laid eyes on you."
"I don't want none of your sauce," responded the lady, eyeing him with acute dislike.