'I am sorry to say, sir, I never heard of the gentleman before.'
At this came a most inopportune 'Haw-haw' from that blockhead Spenser
Hale, completely spoiling the dramatic situation I had elaborated with
such thought and care. It is little wonder the English possess no
drama, for they show scant appreciation of the sensational moments in
life.
'Haw-haw,' brayed Spenser Hale, and at once reduced the emotional
atmosphere to a fog of commonplace. However, what is a man to do? He
must handle the tools with which it pleases Providence to provide him.
I ignored Hale's untimely laughter.
'Sit down, sir,' I said to Macpherson, and he obeyed.
'You have called on Lord Semptam this week,' I continued sternly.
'Yes, sir.'
'And collected a pound from him?'
'Yes, sir.'
'In October, 1893, you sold Lord Semptam a carved antique table for
fifty pounds?'
'Quite right, sir.'
'When you were here last week you gave me Ralph Summertrees as the
name of a gentleman living in Park Lane. You knew at the time that
this man was your employer?'
Macpherson was now looking fixedly at me, and on this occasion made no
reply. I went on calmly:--
'You also knew that Summertrees, of Park Lane, was identical with
Simpson, of Tottenham Court Road?'
'Well, sir,' said Macpherson, 'I don't exactly see what you're
driving at, but it's quite usual for a man to carry on a business
under an assumed name. There is nothing illegal about that.'
'We will come to the illegality in a moment, Mr. Macpherson. You, and
Rogers, and Tyrrel, and three others, are confederates of this man
Simpson.'
'We are in his employ; yes, sir, but no more confederates than clerks
usually are.'
'I think, Mr. Macpherson, I have said enough to show you that the game
is, what you call, up. You are now in the presence of Mr. Spenser Hale,
from Scotland Yard, who is waiting to hear your confession.'