hands, she’s simply a gift, isn’t she? There’s his next victim booked at once. All he’s got to do is to wait for his opportunity, and in the meantime carry that note about with him everywhere so as not to miss it when it comes. Elementary, my dear Moresby.”
“But still leaving us pretty well where we were before, Mr. Holmes. But you’re right about motive in this case, Mr. Sheringham, sir; it means we’ll have nothing but circum stantial evidence about movements and that sort of thing to found our case on. In fact, however sure we may be one day of knowing between ourselves who the guilty party is, about all we’ll ever be able to
prove
is opportunity. And what’s the good of that?”
“Not much,” Roger confessed.
They looked at one another gloomily.
“Without, that is,” added the Chief Inspector, “we have a bit of better luck next time.”
“Next time?” echoed Roger.
“Yes,” said the Chief Inspector matter-of-factly. “The next girl that’s murdered.”
“Oh!” said Roger.
The telephone-bell interrupted his unhappy musings. “Yes?” Moresby answered it. “Yes, this is Chief Inspector Moresby speaking.—Oh, yes. Good morning, sir.—You have? Good—If you wouldn’t mind, sir. Yes, as soon as you like—Very well, sir.” He hung up the receiver. “Pley-dell,” he said. “Coming round with that list.”
“Ah! Well, let’s hope and pray we have a bit of luck there. I don’t like sitting still like this while that brute may be planning to attack another girl at this very minute.”
“But what can we do, sir,” Moresby reasonably pointed out, “not even knowing who he is yet?”
“Humph!” said Roger. There is nothing so irritating as reason, when it does not happen to fit in with desire. “I suppose he
will
go for another girl?”
“Not a doubt of it, sir,” responded the Chief Inspector, with the greatest cheerfulness. “Bound to; they always do. Especially at this sort of stage. He’s just tickled to death now with the idea of killing, hasn’t had time to cool off yet. They,” added the Chief Inspector with a judicial air, “kill about a dozen before they get tired of it.”
“The deuce they do!” Roger said violently. “But look here, yon can’t leave this maniac loose without warning the public against him. You must put these wretched girls on guard, at least.”
“And put him on his guard, too? No, sir; that’s no good. We’d never catch him that way, and he’s too dangerous to be left without being caught, even if it does mean one more girl being killed before we get him.‘Her death may save a dozen others. But what we want to do is to get him first, and I’m going to push on my inquiries as fast as ever I can, now that I’m fairly certain that it is murder and a homicidal maniac that we’re up against.”
Roger was unconvinced. He thought that a warning of some sort ought to be given, if only to unprotected girls, girls living alone, prostitutes and so on; he thought so strongly, and he said so with equal strength. The Chief Inspector remained adamant, and pointed out from a long experience that it never does any good to warn prostitutes of anything; they rarely pay the slightest attention. In the middle of their argument Pleydell was announced.
He greeted them with his usual grave, collected courtesy, which had an old-fashioned air in so young a man, and produced the list he had brought. Without even glancing at it Moresby tossed it carelessly on to his desk and engaged Pleydell in a brief conversation, asking what his movements were going to be that day in case Moresby wanted to get hold of him suddenly. Pleydell outlined them roughly, and promised to ring up Scotland Yard and leave word should he change his plans to any extent during the day. He had seemed a little surprised at the request to do so, but had complied with the utmost readiness. Roger, watching him, saw that he had not yet arrived at the full truth concerning his
“But still leaving us pretty well where we were before, Mr. Holmes. But you’re right about motive in this case, Mr. Sheringham, sir; it means we’ll have nothing but circum stantial evidence about movements and that sort of thing to found our case on. In fact, however sure we may be one day of knowing between ourselves who the guilty party is, about all we’ll ever be able to
prove
is opportunity. And what’s the good of that?”
“Not much,” Roger confessed.
They looked at one another gloomily.
“Without, that is,” added the Chief Inspector, “we have a bit of better luck next time.”
“Next time?” echoed Roger.
“Yes,” said the Chief Inspector matter-of-factly. “The next girl that’s murdered.”
“Oh!” said Roger.
The telephone-bell interrupted his unhappy musings. “Yes?” Moresby answered it. “Yes, this is Chief Inspector Moresby speaking.—Oh, yes. Good morning, sir.—You have? Good—If you wouldn’t mind, sir. Yes, as soon as you like—Very well, sir.” He hung up the receiver. “Pley-dell,” he said. “Coming round with that list.”
“Ah! Well, let’s hope and pray we have a bit of luck there. I don’t like sitting still like this while that brute may be planning to attack another girl at this very minute.”
“But what can we do, sir,” Moresby reasonably pointed out, “not even knowing who he is yet?”
“Humph!” said Roger. There is nothing so irritating as reason, when it does not happen to fit in with desire. “I suppose he
will
go for another girl?”
“Not a doubt of it, sir,” responded the Chief Inspector, with the greatest cheerfulness. “Bound to; they always do. Especially at this sort of stage. He’s just tickled to death now with the idea of killing, hasn’t had time to cool off yet. They,” added the Chief Inspector with a judicial air, “kill about a dozen before they get tired of it.”
“The deuce they do!” Roger said violently. “But look here, yon can’t leave this maniac loose without warning the public against him. You must put these wretched girls on guard, at least.”
“And put him on his guard, too? No, sir; that’s no good. We’d never catch him that way, and he’s too dangerous to be left without being caught, even if it does mean one more girl being killed before we get him.‘Her death may save a dozen others. But what we want to do is to get him first, and I’m going to push on my inquiries as fast as ever I can, now that I’m fairly certain that it is murder and a homicidal maniac that we’re up against.”
Roger was unconvinced. He thought that a warning of some sort ought to be given, if only to unprotected girls, girls living alone, prostitutes and so on; he thought so strongly, and he said so with equal strength. The Chief Inspector remained adamant, and pointed out from a long experience that it never does any good to warn prostitutes of anything; they rarely pay the slightest attention. In the middle of their argument Pleydell was announced.
He greeted them with his usual grave, collected courtesy, which had an old-fashioned air in so young a man, and produced the list he had brought. Without even glancing at it Moresby tossed it carelessly on to his desk and engaged Pleydell in a brief conversation, asking what his movements were going to be that day in case Moresby wanted to get hold of him suddenly. Pleydell outlined them roughly, and promised to ring up Scotland Yard and leave word should he change his plans to any extent during the day. He had seemed a little surprised at the request to do so, but had complied with the utmost readiness. Roger, watching him, saw that he had not yet arrived at the full truth concerning his
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