Mr. J. G. Reeder Returns by Edgar Wallace

Author:Edgar Wallace [Wallace, Edgar]
Format: epub
Tags: JG, reeder, wallace
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2010-04-18T21:29:59+00:00

2

Mr Reeder very seldom went to the theatre. When he did he preferred the strong and romantic drama to the more subtle problem plays which are so popular with the leisured classes.

He went to see Killing Time, and was a little disappointed, for he detected “the man who did it” in the first act, and thereafter the play ceased to have any great interest for him.

The unpleasant happening of the evening occurred between the first and second acts, when Mr Reeder was pacing the vestibule, smoking one of his cheap cigarettes, and speculating upon the advisability of recovering his coat and hat from the cloakroom and escaping after the interval bell had rung and the audience had gone back into the auditorium.

There approached him a resplendent man. He was stout, rather tall, very florid. He wore a perpetual smile, which was made up of nine-tenths of amused contempt. His stubby nails were manicured and polished; Mr Reeder suspected that they were faintly tinted. His clothes fitted him all too perfectly, and when he smiled his way up to Mr Reeder that gentleman had a feeling that he would like to go back and see the second act after all.

“You’re Mr Reeder, aren’t you?” he said in a tone which challenged denial. “My name is Hallaty, Gunnersbury branch of the L and O Bank. You came down to see me one day about a fellow who’d been passing dud cheques.”

Mr Reeder fixed his glasses on the end of his nose and looked over them at his new acquaintance.

“Yes, I – um – remember there was a branch of the bank at Gunnersbury,” he said. “Very interesting how these branches are spreading.”

“It’s rather funny to see you here at a theatre,” smiled Mr Hallaty.

“I – um – suppose it is,” said Mr Reeder.

“It’s a funny thing,” the loquacious man went on, “I was talking to a friend of mine, Lord Lintil – you may have met him. I know him personally; in fact, we’re quite pals.”

Mr Reeder was impressed.

“Really?” he said respectfully. “I haven’t seen Lord Lintil since his third bankruptcy. Quite an interesting man.”

Mr Hallaty was jarred but not shaken.

“Misfortune comes to everybody, even to the landed gentry,” he said, a little sternly.

“You were talking to him about me?”

Mr Reeder spared himself the admonition which was coming.

“And – um – what did you say about me?”

For a moment the Manager of the Gunnersbury branch did not seem inclined to pursue his aristocratic reminiscences.

“I was saying how clever you were.”

Mr Reeder wriggled unhappily.

“We were talking about these bank frauds that are going on, and how impossible it is to bring the – what do you call ’ems – perpetrators to justice, eh? That’s what we want to do, Mr Reeder – bring ’em to justice.”

His pale eyes never left Mr Reeder’s.

“A most admirable idea,” agreed the detective.

He wondered if any helpful advice was likely to be forthcoming.

“I suppose there must be a system by which you can stop this sort of thing going on.

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