“You won’t hurt him?”
“I’ll not do him the slightest damage.”
I opened the door for her to leave the room. She passed upstairs; I went out into the street. The man was still at the corner; he eyed me intently as I passed. I paid no attention to him whatever. Strolling leisurely, I crossed the Fulham Road, and, through some devious and dirty by-streets, I gained the King’s Road. At an oilman’s shop I purchased a dozen yards of stout clothes line. Looking at my watch, I found that I had been absent nearly ten minutes. With the same leisurely gait I retraced my steps. The man was still at his corner.
He was an out-size in policemen; all of five foot ten, well set up, with a carriage which denoted muscle. Fortunately for my purpose, his face did not point to a surplus of brains; he struck me as being as stupid as I was. I marched straight up to him with an air of brusqueness.
“You’re from the Yard. Why on earth didn’t you give me the tip when I drove past you at first? You saw me staring at you hard enough. I’ve been on a wild goose chase, all because of your stupidity; you shall hear of it again!” He touched his hat. “I’ve just come from the court; Inspector Symonds is detained; I’m on this job at present. Has anybody come out of 22 since I did?”
“A young woman, sir.”
“A young woman. And you let her go?”
“It was only the servant.”
“Only the servant! Which way did she go?”
“She came out into the road here, and then got on to a Piccadilly ’bus. My instructions were to keep an eye on the young lady. I wasn’t told anything about the servant.”