Mr. Pinkerton at the Old Angel by Frome David

Author:Frome, David [Frome, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781479428748
Amazon: 1479428744
Goodreads: 7832911
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 1939-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Mr. Pinkerton went shakily up the stairs, trying to maintain as much dignity as he could, and closed his door behind him. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. A scene in his far off meagre childhood came back and smote his already aching brain. It was one summer Sunday evening. His two aunts who brought him up had taken him to chapel, where a man with a white face and flowing black tie had pointed eloquently to a miserable creature huddled near the pulpit beside him. After two hours or so, the young Pinkerton, guided by his two aunts, had gone forward and signed the pledge. He had not then questioned the wisdom of it for a moment. He questioned it even less as he lay there now, on the bright rayon oriental bedcover, Satan and a thousand imps hammering away inside the little fortress of his head.

There was a sound at the door. Mrs. Humpage, of course, would have a few comforting words about how she’d dealt with the late Humpage in like circumstances. Mr. Pinkerton resigned himself wretchedly, and opened his eyes as the door opened. Then he raised his head. It was not Mrs. Humpage. It was Kathleen, with a little tray with a pot of tea and a jug of hot water on it.

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry you’re feeling badly.” she said. Her face was quite pale and her eyes still red-rimmed and bloodshot with crying. Her hands trembled still as she set the tray down and poured him a steaming fragrant cup.

“There, sir, take this. It will pick you up.”

She held it out. Mr. Pinkerton took it, sitting miserably on the side of the bed.

She stood watching him, then sat down simply on the bed beside him. “I’m sure you must think I’m a very wicked girl, sir,” she said.

Mr. Pinkerton started to shake his head, but it hurt too badly.

“No,” he said. “But you see, I saw him come down those stairs.”

He pointed to the panel. “Last night,” he added, rather unnecessarily. It seemed years ago.

She took a quick little breath.

“But I didn’t tell anybody.” he added hastily. “You see, I’m really not connected with the police at all. Inspector Bull is just a friend of mine, and sometimes he lets me go along with him on his cases.”

“Oh,” Kathleen said in a small voice.

Mr. Pinkerton took a sip of tea.

“Are you …are you happy with him, Kathleen?” he asked timidly. .

The girl looked down. Her long black lashes brushed against her pale cheeks, her red little hands pleated and unpleated the edge of her white apron.

“Nobody can be very happy hiding about this way, sir.” she said simply. “And he’s different. At home we used to plan about when we were married. But here he doesn’t want to be seen with me. He said the other clerks would twig him if they saw him with a chambermaid, and why couldn’t I get a post as a shop assistant?

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