The Dark Eyes of London Read Online

"There's no doubt about his being drowned?"

    "None whatever," replied the Commissioner, and pulled open a drawer, lifting out a little tray on which were a number of articles. "These were the only things found in his pockets," he said. "A watch and chain, a cigar case, and this roll of brown paper." Larry took up the latter object. It was about an inch in length, and was still sodden with water.

    "There is no writing on it," said Sir John. "I opened it when it first came in, but thought it better to roll it back and leave it as it was for another inspection when it dried." Larry was looking at the watch, which was an ordinary gold half-hunter.

    "Nothing there," he said, snapping back the case, "except that it stopped at twenty past twelve—presumably the hour of his death." Sir John nodded.

    "The chain is gold and platinum," mused Larry, "and at the end is a—what?" There was a little cylinder of gold about an inch and a half long.

    "A gold pencil fitted in here," said Larry. "Have they found the pencil?"

    Sir John shook his head.

    "No, that is all we discovered. Apparently Stuart was not in the habit of wearing rings. I'll have these sent to your office. Now will you take on the case?"

    "But what is the case?" asked Larry slowly. "Do you suspect foul play?"

    The Commissioner was silent.

    "I do and I don't," he said. "I merely say that here are the elements of a terrible crime. But for the fact that he has been found on the steps with the tide still rising, and it was obviously low when he died, I should have thought it was an ordinary case of drowning, and I should not have opposed a verdict of accidental death if the jury reached that conclusion."

    Larry looked at the watch again.

    "It's strange," he said, speaking half to himself, and then: "I'll take these things into my room, if I may."

    "I expected you would want them," said the Commissioner. "Now will you see the body?"

    Larry hesitated.

    "I'll see Doctor Judd first," he said. "Can you give me his address?"

    Sir John looked up at the clock over his mantelpiece.

    "He will be at his office. He's one of those indefatigable persons who work late. Number 17 Bloomsbury Pavement; you can't miss the building."

    Larry gathered up the tray and moved to the door.

    "Now for the unattractive secretary," he said, and Sir John smiled.

    Room No. 47 was on the floor above that where the Commissioner's office was situated. It lay at the end of a long corridor, facing the detective. He carried the tray in one hand and opened the door with the other, walking into a comfortable little bureau.

    "Hallo!" he said in surprise. "Am I in the wrong office?" The girl, who had risen from her desk, was young and extremely pretty. A mass of dull gold hair, dressed low over her broad forehead, gave an added emphasis to clear grey eyes that were regarding him with surprise. She was neat and slim of figure, and when she smiled Larry thought he had hardly ever seen so gracious and pleasant a lady.

    "This is Inspector Holt's office," she said.

    "Good Lord!" said Larry, coming slowly into the room and shutting the door behind him. He went to the other desk and put down the tray, and the girl looked puzzled.

    "This is Inspector Holt's office," she repeated. "Are those things for him?"

    Larry nodded, looking at the girl in wonder.

    "What is that?" he asked suddenly, pointing to a glass and a jug on a side table which was covered with a small white cloth.

    "Oh, that is for Inspector Holt," she said.

    Larry looked into the jug.

    "Milk?" he said in wonder.

    "Yes," said the girl. "Inspector Holt is rather old, you know, and when I asked the Commissioner if he would like something after his journey, the Commissioner suggested invalid's food and milk; but I can't make invalid's food here, and—" His shriek of merriment stopped her, and she stared at him.

    "I am Inspector Holt," he said, drying his eyes.

    "You?" she gasped.

    "I'm the lad," said he complacently. "John, the Commissioner, has played a joke on you, miss—I don't know your name. Now, would you be good enough to ask the aged Miss Ward to step in?" A smile twitched her lips.

    "I am Miss Ward," she said, and it was Larry's turn to stare. Then he put out his hand with a smile.

    "Miss Ward," he said, "we're companions in misfortune. Each has been equally a victim of a perfidious police commissioner. I'm extremely glad to meet you—and relieved."

    "I'm a little relieved," laughed the girl as she went to her desk, and Larry, watching every movement, thought she floated rather than walked.

    "Sir John said you were sixty and asthmatic, and told me to be careful that no draughts should come into the office.