Murder of the Nineth Baronet by Fletcher J. S

Author:Fletcher, J. S.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Distributed Proofreaders Canada
Published: 1932-09-15T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIII

MALMESBURY MANSIONS

I have already said that Miss Fanny Pratt had been employed by us on a previous occasion. At Chippendale’s instance she had been commissioned to watch and track a certain ne’er-do-well parson whom we suspected of complicity in a murder, and she had done her work very well. Consequently when we knew that Chippendale had once more enlisted her services, we anticipated some good results and on her entrance became at once curious to know what she had to tell us.

“Well,” demanded Chaney, after complimenting our ally on her increasing good looks and undoubted charms, “any luck last night? Find out anything worth reporting?”

Chippendale signed to Miss Pratt to proceed. Miss Pratt plunged straight into detailed narrative:

“Lots, Mr. Chaney!” she replied. “At least, considering the short time we were at work. I’ll begin at the beginning—my beginning, anyway. I was down at the entrance at Warriner’s Wharf at five minutes to five, sharp, yesterday afternoon, with the taxi-cab which Chippendale had commissioned and the driver to whom he’d already given special and particular instructions. Of course, I was lying low—there’s plenty of cover about there. At five o’clock a private car came in at the other end of the wharf and pulled up at the offices of the Heronswood Colliery Company. A minute or two later, two gentlemen came out of the front door. From what Chip had told me, I knew which of these was Mr. Maxtondale and which Mr. Collinghurst. They got into the car. The car passed my taxi-cab. I came out of my hiding-place, got into the cab, and we followed, cautiously—of course both the driver and I had taken care to note the private car’s number. We followed by way of Monument Street, King William Street, Cheapside, Newgate Street, Holborn, as far as the Holborn Restaurant. The two gentlemen got out there and went into a bar, but they weren’t in there more than a few minutes—I suppose they called for a drink.”

“Correct supposition, no doubt, my dear,” remarked Chaney.

“Then they came out and resumed their journey,” continued Miss Pratt. “So did we. It was easy, Oxford Street, Portman Street, two or three turns through those small streets between Portman Square and Edgware Road to that big block of new flats called Malmesbury Mansions. There the chase came to an end. At Malmesbury Mansions—the front entrance—both gentlemen got out.”

“And entered?” asked Chaney.

“And entered,” assented Miss Pratt. “Both. The car drove away and went to a garage close by.”

“Oh, you made sure of that!”

“Certainly I did, Mr. Chaney. The two gentlemen were safe for the time being.”

“Well—and afterwards?”

“Having ascertained that, I went to meet Chip at the spot we’d arranged on—”

“Minerva Café, Oxford Street,” interrupted Chippendale, softly.

“—and there,” continued Miss Pratt, “I reported to him what I’d discovered. That finished my share in the job—up to then. He came in where I left off.”

Chaney turned to Chippendale.

“Anything more, Chip?” he asked. “That all?”

“Not by a long chalk, Mr. Chaney!” replied Chippendale, cheerfully. “That’s only the beginning, sir.

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