This, as I expected, was a bolt from the blue for Larry, because I believe he had no idea that I knew of his growing attachment and increasing encounters with a pretty little English maid from the flat above. At any rate he grinned sheepishly and withdrew, taking the tea with him. For once, a retort of any kind was lacking.
I stripped and plunged into a cold tub, and in fifteen minutes was seated at one of Larry’s inimitable breakfasts, wondering what I should do without him, if anything should come of his attachment to the girl upstairs. Moore had ways of his own of finding things out, and he had told me of Larry’s conversations on the stairs. One of Moore’s maxims was: “Where there’s a woman, there’s trouble.” But neither of us took Larry’s attachment very seriously; there had been too many of them. Moore only feared that he might become too expansive concerning our affairs. But that I never even considered. You must trust somebody, and Larry had shown himself entirely trustworthy.
He stood by until I had taken the edge from my appetite, and then I turned upon him. “Now then, Larry,” I said briskly, “pull up a chair and sit down. We’ve got some plans this afternoon that you’re in on, and I can’t have you making a mess of them.”
Larry grunted. “Twas something else I made a mess of last night, sor,” he remarked. “An’ small thanks I get——”
“Sit down!” I roared. “And shut up!”
Larry sank into a seat, grinning feebly.
“Now,” I began, after a moment, “you and Moore and I are to have a council of war this afternoon. I’ll tell you this much, Larry. Moore is being followed and we’ve got to be careful. His idea is that he should walk through the Park, and that you and I should take a taxi and pick him up in some open space, where his shadow can’t get close to him. What do you think of the plan? You see, they don’t suspect me as yet.”
Larry pricked up his ears at this. “Who’s ‘they,’ sor?” he demanded. “Was it that pasty lad with the gun last night?”
“He and his friends, Larry—and a lot of friends he seems to have. But I think, Larry—I hope—that they may know something about my sister.”
“By gorry, sor, gimme the address again—but sure, don’t I know it?—and I’ll have the heart out av him, ’Tis meself will wring the truth out av the dog, if I have to sthrangle him.”