The Law of the Three Just Men by Edgar Wallace

Author:Edgar Wallace
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ManyBooks.net

"There she is," said Leon.

A girl was crossing the road. She was neatly, even well-dressed for one of her class. She carried a market bag in one gloved hand, a purse in the other.

"She's pretty enough," said Manfred.

The girl had paused to look in a jeweller's window and Manfred had time to observe her. Her face was sweet and womanly, the eyes big and dark, the little chin firm and rounded.

"What do you think of her?" said Leon.

"I think she's rather a perfect specimen of young womanhood," said Manfred.

"Come along and meet her," said the other, and took his arm.

The girl looked round at first in surprise, and then with a smile. Manfred had an impression of flashing white teeth and scarlet lips parted in amusement. Her voice was not the voice of a lady, but it was quiet and musical.

"Good morning, Doctor," she said to Leon. "What are you doing in this part of the world so early in the morning."

"Doctor," noted Manfred.

The adaptable Gonsalez assumed many professions for the purpose of securing his information.

"We have just come from Guy's Hospital. This is Dr. Selbert," he introduced Manfred. "You are shopping, I suppose?"

She nodded.

"Really, there was no need for me to come out, Mr. Prothero being away at the Docks for three days," she replied.

"Have you seen your brother this morning?" asked Leon.

A shadow fell over the girl's face.

"No," she said shortly.

Evidently, thought Manfred, she was not particularly proud of her relationship. Possibly she suspected his illicit profession, but at any rate she had no desire to discuss him, for she changed the subject quickly.

They talked for a little while, and then with an apology she left them and they saw her vanish through the wide door of a grocer's store.

"Well, what do you think of her?"

"She is a very beautiful girl," said Manfred quietly.

"The kind of girl that would make a bald-headed criminal commit a murder?" asked Leon, and Manfred laughed.

"It is not unlikely," he said, "but why should he murder you?"

"Nous verrons," replied Leon.

When they returned to their flat in the afternoon the mail had been and there were half a dozen letters. One bearing a heavy crest upon the envelope attracted Manfred's attention.

"Lord Pertham," he said, looking at the signature. "Who is Lord Pertham?"

"I haven't a Who's Who handy, but I seem to know the name," said Leon. "What does Lord Pertham want?"

"I'll read you the note," said Manfred. "'Dear Sir,'" it read.

"'Our mutual friend Mr. Fare of Scotland Yard is dining with us tonight at Connaught Gardens, and I wonder whether you would come along? Mr. Fare tells me that you are one of the cleverest criminologists of the century, and as it is a study which I have made particularly my own, I shall be glad to make your acquaintance.'"

It was signed "Pertham" and there was a postscript running--

"Of course, this invitation also includes your friend."

Manfred rubbed his chin.

"I really do not want to dine fashionably tonight," he said.

"But I do," said Leon promptly.

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