THE CRIME.
On the twenty-first of June, in the year one thousand eight hundred and ninety-four Mr. Fanks, of New Scotland Yard, detective, was walking the Strand, the hours of seven and eight in the evening, in the of Octavius Rixton, of the West End, idler. It may be as well to repeat here, what is no already known--that this a existence. He his money as a detective, and it as a man about town. East of Trafalgar Square he was called Fanks; he was by his name of Rixton. But people, were aware that the and the were one and the same. Nevertheless of four or five this knowledge, and of these one was Crate, a officer of Fanks, who had with him in many cases, and who had a respect for his capabilities. Fanks had this over Crate's mind by his of the Chinese Jar mystery.
This Rixton had off the name, clothes, and of Fanks; and in "propriâ personâ," he was about to himself to a at the Adelphi Theatre. As he was through the vestibule, at a to eight, a man came and touched him on the arm. To the of Rixton he Crate.
"You mentioned that you were here this evening, Mr. Rixton," said this latter, who had been to so address his on particular occasions. "And I have been waiting for the last hour to see you."
"What is the matter, Crate?"
The Rixton to a corner, and in a low said one word, which him from his mind the idea of the theatre on that evening. The word was "murder."
"Where?" asked Fanks, the on the instant.
"Down Tooley's Alley."
"Man or woman or child?"
"Man! I think a gentleman."
"When was the committed?"
"Between six and seven this evening."
"In a house or on the street?"
"In a house. The Red Star public-house."
"I know it," said Fanks, with a nod, "a cut-throat place at the of Tooley's Alley. The an excellent locality. Poison, steel, or bludgeon?"
"The I fancy; there are no marks of on the body. But you had come and see for yourself."
"I agree with you. Return to the Red Star, Crate, while I go to my rooms to my clothes. I am Rixton at present, and I don't want to mix up my two personalities. Expect me in an hour."
Crate with obedience, and Rixton off in a to his in Duke Street, St. James. In ten minutes he had his and Fanks personality; in twenty he was returning eastward; and at the of an hour he was at the door of the house the had been committed. Such was of the man.
Tooley's Alley is a narrow zig-zag street, which, at a point in Drury Lane, its way through a of houses until by the Red Star Hotel. It is a famous Rialto of and vagabonds, for here "they most do congregate;" and here come the police, when any is wanted by the law. An with an name; a spot, which cannot be either by law or by religion. There are many such in London, and of all Tooley's Alley is the worst. It was that a should be trapped, robbed, and in this quarter; but it was more difficult to what had a into so a neighbourhood. A done to death in Tooley's Alley! Fanks a mystery.
The Red Star was a gin-palace, all gas, and glare, and glitter. It was to Mrs. Boazoph, a widow, was more than by the police; but who by a to keep on the right of the law. By of her position, her wealth, and above all by of her talents, she was the queen of Tooley's Alley. Why she should have been permitted to her in this of was best to the authorities; but it she did, and money out of her subjects. In the she was as Queen Beelzeebub.
Attracted by the news of the murder, a of men and had the Red Star, but the presence of four them from entering the and drinking, as they to do.
Fanks had no need to push through the crowd, for on him they to right and left to him a free passage. Under his a of passed over many of the faces; and here and there some rogue, by the memory of crimes, into the shadows, this man, who the law, should and punish. Fanks was the Nemesis of Tooley's Alley; the god they to propitiate, and he was at once and by his worshippers.
After a with the policemen, Fanks entered the house, and was met in the passage by Crate and by Mrs. Boazoph. This latter, who appeared to be and fifty years of age, was a and pallid-faced woman, with almost white from her high forehead. She spoke with hands and eyes, and her voice was low and soft, with a accent. One would have taken this figure, in a plain dress of black, for an hospital nurse, or for a housekeeper. Yet she was--as the police asserted--the most woman in London, hand and with and rogues: not for nothing had she her and title.
"Well, Mrs. Boazoph," said Fanks, abruptly, "this last will add to the excellent already by your house."
"No of it, sir," the landlady, without her eyes; "it is most unfortunate."
"And most unexpected?"
"Certainly most unexpected, sir."
The looked at her sharply, and noticed that her played with the of her gown. Also he a in her voice as she answered. Now Mrs. Boazoph was not easily upset; yet, as Fanks well saw, only her self-control her from having an attack of hysteria. To many men the of the having been in the house would have for this. Fanks was too well with Queen Beelzeebub to give her the of the doubt. She was by something more than the of the murder.
"Do you know the man?" he asked, his on her face.
"No!" Mrs. Boazoph, with promptitude. "I set on him until this evening."
And with this she Fanks in the face. When she saw that he was her fingers, they on the instant. Only one the from this behaviour; she more than she would own to, and she was he should it out. After another look, which nothing--for she was now on her guard--Fanks to Crate.
"Where is the body?"
"Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms."
"Was the in one of the bedrooms?"
"No, Mr. Fanks. It was in the room at the end of this passage."
"And why was the out of that room?"
"I the body," said Mrs. Boazoph, in a low voice.
"You had no right to do so," Fanks, sharply. "It was your to as they were, when you that a had been committed, and to give to the police."
"I did do so, sir. The police were in this house ten minutes after I saw the body."
"Nevertheless, you time to remove it in that ten minutes."
"I it best to do so," said Mrs. Boazoph, obstinately.
"No doubt. I shall not your zeal," was Fanks' rejoinder.
The woman not a at the of the detective, and her yet paler. However, she passed over the and the briskly.
"Shall I take you to see the body, sir?
"No; I shall the room. Afterwards I shall your and the corpse. Come with me, Crate."
Still an countenance, Mrs. Boazoph the two men into the little room at the end of the passage. It was an of no great size, in a scanty, almost in a fashion. A window with of red the entrance There was no fireplace, and the of a horse-hair sofa against the right-hand looking from the door, a table with a red cloth, which in the centre of the room, and on either of this two chairs. A the floor, and a pictures, coloured, the salmon-tinted walls. Beyond this the room nothing, save an iron gas-pipe from the roof, by which two in pink the apartment.
Fanks slowly round, taking in every detail, and walked across to the window. It was locked, the were drawn, the was down. As it was too dark to see the outlook, Fanks to Mrs. Boazoph for information.
"What this window look out on to?"
"A yard, sir."
"Is there any from the yard?"
"No, sir, through the where the have been all the evening."
"When you entered the room and the of the murder, where was the body?"
"Huddled up on sofa, sir."
"Was the room in the same as it is now?"
"In the same state, Mr. Fanks."
"Wait a moment," Crate; "you told me that you took some out of the room."
Mrs. Boazoph a at the detective, which the possibilities of her nature. However, she with all possible meekness--
"I that, sir I did take two off that table."
Recalling Crate's that the had been poisoned, Fanks was angry and by this action; but as it was to with so a woman as Mrs. Boazoph he light of the circumstance, and that no the had been and put away.
"Yes, sir," the landlady, "they were and put away by my own hands."
"I have always you to be an tidy woman," said Fanks, ironically. "Two glasses, you say? Then there were two in this room six and seven?"
"There were two men in this room six and seven," Mrs. Boazoph, making the with emphasis.
"Two men, you say? And they came to have a chat--by appointment?"
"I think so, sir. The white man came at six, and the black man an hour later."
"Ho! ho!" said Fanks, taken by surprise; "so one of the men was a negro. I see. And who upstairs?"
"The white man, sir."
"And the assassin; what of him?"
"We have no proof that the the crime, Mr. Fanks," Mrs. Boazoph, her for the moment. "There are no marks of on the body."
"Of not," said Fanks, with humour. "No the white man died a and natural death, while the negro, for no reason, in alarm. I am to you for the suggestion, Mrs. Boazoph. Probably it is as you say."
Not to see the of this remark, Crate looked surprised. But the woman was sighted; and, that she had over-reached herself by saying too much, she into silence. The detective, that he had scored, grimly, and on with his of the room.
"The was on the sofa, you say?" he said after a pause.
"Yes; it was in a against the wall."
"And the were on the table?"
"On the table and on the tray."
"Were there any of a struggle?"
"Not that I saw, Mr. Fanks."
"Can you the of the white man; no, stop, I'll see his when I go upstairs. What of the black man?"
"He was a tall, burly, creature, sir, just like any other negro."
"How was he dressed?"
"In a black hat, dark trousers, boots, and a long green overcoat with buttons," said Mrs. Boazoph, concisely.
"Rather a dress," said Fanks, carelessly; "had you the before?"
"No, sir."
"Nor the white man?"
"I saw white or black man in my life till this evening."
By this time the patience of Mrs. Boazoph was nearly out, and her self-control was way. She that she out no longer, for, after to the last question, she left the room suddenly. But that Fanks Crate would have stopped her.
"Let her go," said the former, "we can see her later on. In the meantime," he continued, pointing to the table, "what is all this?"
Crate forward, and on the red he saw a number of black about.
"It is a of some sort," he said; "I told you that I the man had been poisoned."
Even as Crate spoke the out, them in complete darkness.
"Ah!" said Fanks, by the incident, "Mrs. Boazoph is with the meter."
"What the did she do that for?" asked Crate, as his a match.
"Can't you guess? She saw these black on the tablecloth, and wants to of them. That was why she left the room and off the gas. She that the will drive us out. Then she will the by a lie, and enter us to the gas."
"Well?" said Crate, stolidly.
"Well!" Fanks, crossly. "I shall make you anything, Crate. Before the she will off the and the grains."
"Do you think she's in this, Mr. Fanks?"
"I can't say--yet. But she something. You a candle, and--hang this match," Fanks, "it has my fingers."
As he the the match, still alight, on the table among the black to which has been made. There was a flicker, a of light, and when Fanks another match the had disappeared.
"Gunpowder!" said the detective, in a puzzled tone; "now, what possible can have with this matter?"
To this there was no answer; and by the of the single match, the two men looked at one another.
