_ALIAS_ MADAME LISTORELLE
The woman thus observed marched swiftly away down the deserted street
in the direction of the Town Hall at the corner, and Matherfield, after
one more searching look at her, dropped the slat of the Venetian blind
through which he had been peeping, and turned on his companion. At the
same instant he reached a hand for his overcoat and hat.
"Now, Mr. Hetherwick," he said sharply, "this has got to be a one-man
job! There'll be nothing extraordinary in one man going along the
streets to catch an early morning train, but it would look a bit
suspicious if two men went together on the same errand and the same
track! I'm off after her! I'll run her down! I'm used to that sort
of thing. You go to your chambers and get some sleep. I'll look in
later and tell you what news I have. Sharp's the word, now!"
He was out of the room and the house within the next few seconds, and
Hetherwick, half vexed with himself for having lingered there on a job
which Matherfield thus unceremoniously took into his own hands,
prepared to follow. Presently he went out into the shabby hall; the
man of the house was just coming downstairs, stifling a big yawn. He
smiled knowingly when he saw Hetherwick.
"Matherfield gone, sir?" he inquired. "I heard the door close."
"He's gone," assented Hetherwick. "The person he wanted appeared
suddenly, and he's gone in pursuit."
The man, a smug-faced, easy-going sort of person, smiled again.
"Rum doings these police have!" he remarked. "Queer job, watching all
night through a window. I was just coming down to make you a cup of
coffee," he continued. "I'll get you one in a few minutes, if you
like. Or tea now? Perhaps you'd prefer tea?"
"It's very good of you," said Hetherwick. "But to tell you the truth
I'd rather get home and to bed. Many thanks, all the same."
Then, out of sheer good nature, he slipped a treasury note into the
man's hand, and, bidding him good morning, went away. He, too, walked
down the street in the direction taken by Lady Riversreade and her
pursuer. But when he came to the bottom and emerged into Harrow Road
he saw nothing of them, either to left or right. The road, however,
was not deserted; there were already workmen going to early morning
tasks, and close by the corner of the Town Hall a roadman was busy with
his broom. Hetherwick went up to him.
"Did you see a lady, and then a gentleman, come down here, from St.
Mary's Terrace, just now?" he asked. "Tall people, both of them."
The man rested on his broom, half turned, and pointed towards
Paddington Bridge.
"I see 'em, guv'nor," he answered. "Tall lady, carrying a little
portmantle. Gone along over the bridge yonder. Paddington station
way. And, after her, Matherfield."
"Oh, you know him, do you?" exclaimed Hetherwick, in surprise.
The man jerked a thumb in the direction of the adjacent police station.
"Used to be a sergeant here, did Matherfield," he replied. "I knows
him, right enough! Once run me in--me an' a mate o' mine--for bein' a
bit festive like. Five bob and costs that was. But I don't bear him
no grudge, not me! Thank 'ee, guv'nor."
Hetherwick left another tip behind him and walked slowly off towards
Edgware Road. The Tube trains were just beginning to run, and he
caught a south-bound one and went down to Charing Cross and thence to
the Temple. And at six o'clock he tumbled into bed, and slept soundly
until, four hours later, he heard Mapperley moving about in the
adjoining room.
Mapperley, whose job at Hetherwick's was a good deal of a sinecure, was
leisurely reading the news when his master entered. He laid the paper
aside, and gave Hetherwick a knowing glance.
"Got some more information last night," he said. "About that chap I
tracked the other day."
"How did you get it?" asked Hetherwick.
"Put in a bit of time at Vivian's," answered Mapperley. "There's a
fellow there that I know. Clerk to the secretary chap, named Flowers.
That man Baseverie has a share in the place--sort of director, I think."
"What time were you at Vivian's?" inquired Hetherwick. "Late or early?"
"Early--for them," answered Mapperley.
"Did you see the man there?"
"I did. He was there all the time I was. In and about all the time.
But at first he was in what seemed to be serious conversation with a
tall, handsome woman. They sat talking in an alcove in the lounge
there some time. Then she went off--alone."
"Oh, you saw that, did you?" said Hetherwick. "Well, I may as well
tell you, since you know what you do, that the woman was Lady
Riversreade!"
"Oh, I guessed that!" remarked Mapperley. "I figured in that at once.
But that wasn't all. I found out more. That dead man, Hannaford--from
what I heard from Flowers--I've no doubt whatever that Hannaford was at
Vivian's once, if not twice, during the two or three nights before his
death. Anyway, Flowers recognised my description of him--which I'd
got, of course, from you and the papers."
"Hannaford. There, eh?" exclaimed Hetherwick. "Alone?"
"No--came in with this Baseverie. They don't know him as Dr. Baseverie
there, though. Plain Mister. I'm quite sure it was Hannaford who was
with him."
"Did you get the exact dates--and times?" asked Hetherwick.
"I didn't. Flowers couldn't say that. But he remembered such a man."
"Well, that's something," said Hetherwick. He turned into another room
and sat down to his breakfast, thinking. "Mapperley, come here!" he
called presently. "Look here," he went on as the clerk came in.
"Since you know this Vivian place, go there again to-night, and try to
find out if that friend of yours knows anything of a tall man who
corresponds to the description of the man whom Hannaford was seen to
meet at Victoria. You read Ledbitter's account of that, given at the
inquest?"
"Yes," replied Mapperley. "But of what value is it? None--for
practical purposes! He couldn't even tell the shape of the man's nose,
nor the colour of his eyes! All he could tell was that he saw a man
muffled in such a fashion that he saw next to nothing of his face, and
that he was tall and smartly dressed. There are a few tens of
thousands--scores, perhaps--of tall, smartly-dressed men in London!"
"Never mind--inquire," said Hetherwick, "and particularly if such a man
has ever been seen in Baseverie's company there."
He finished his breakfast, and then, instead of going down to the
Central Criminal Court, after his usual habit, he hung about in his
chambers, expecting Matherfield. But Matherfield did not come, and at
noon Hetherwick, impelled by a new idea, left a message for him in case
he called, and went out. In pursuance of the idea, he journeyed once
more to the regions of Paddington and knocked at the door of the house
wherein he and Matherfield had kept watch on the flats opposite.
The lodging-house keeper opened the door himself and grinned on seeing
Hetherwick. Hetherwick stepped inside and nodded at the door of the
room which he had left only a few hours before.
"I want a word or two with you," he said. "In private."
"Nobody in here, sir," replied the man. "Come in."
He closed the door on himself and his visitor, and offered Hetherwick a
chair.
"I expected you'd be back during the day," he said, with a sly smile.
"Either you or Matherfield, or both!"
"You haven't seen him again?" asked Hetherwick.
"No; he's not been here," replied the man.
"Well, I wanted to ask you a question," continued Hetherwick. "Perhaps
two or three. To begin with, have you lived here long?"
"Been here since before these flats were built--and that's a good many
years ago; I can't say exactly how many," said the other, glancing at
the big block opposite his window. "Twenty-two or three, anyway."
"Then I dare say you know most of the people hereabouts?" suggested
Hetherwick. "By sight, at any rate."
The lodging-house keeper smiled and shook his head.
"That would be a tall order, mister!" he answered. "There's a few
thousand of people packed into this bit of London. Of course, I do
know a good many, close at hand. But if you're a Londoner you'll know
that Londoners keep themselves to themselves. May seem queer, but it's
a fact that I don't know the names of my next-door neighbours on either
side--though to be sure they've only been here a few years in either
case."
"What I was suggesting," said Hetherwick, "was that you probably knew
by sight many of the people who live in the flats opposite your house."
"Oh, I know some of 'em by sight," assented the man. "They're a mixed
lot over in those flats! A few old gentlemen--retired--two or three
old ladies--and a fair lot of actresses--very popular with the stage is
those flats. But, of course, it is only by sight--I don't know any of
'em by name. Just see them going in and coming out, you know."
"Do you happen to know by sight a tall, handsome woman who has a flat
there?" asked Hetherwick. "A woman who's likely to be very well
dressed?"
The lodging-house keeper, who was without his coat and had the sleeves
of his shirt rolled up, scratched his elbows and looked thoughtful.
"I think I do know the lady you mean," he said at last. "Goes out with
one o' those pesky little poms--a black 'un--on a lead? That her?"
"I don't know anything about a dog," replied Hetherwick. "The woman I
mean is, as I said, tall, handsome, distinguished-looking, fair hair
and a fresh complexion, and about forty or so."
"I dare say that's the one I'm thinking of," said the man. "I have
seen such a lady now and then--not of late, though." Then he gave
Hetherwick a shrewd, inquiring glance. "You and Matherfield after
her?" he asked.
"Not exactly that," answered Hetherwick. "What I want to find
out--now--is her name. The name she's known by here, anyway."
"I can soon settle that for you," said the lodging-house keeper with
alacrity. "I know the caretaker of those flats well enough--often have
a talk with him. He'll tell me anything--between ourselves. Now then,
let's get it right--a tall, handsome lady, about forty, fair hair,
fresh complexion, well dressed. That it, mister?"
"You've got it," said Hetherwick.
"Then you wait here a bit, and I'll slip across," said the man. "All
on the strict between ourselves, you know. As I said, the caretaker
and me's pals."
He left the room, and a moment later Hetherwick saw him cross the road
and descend into the basement of the flats. Within a quarter of an
hour he was back, and evidently primed with news.
"Soon settled that for you, mister!" he announced triumphantly. "He
knew who you meant! The lady's name is Madame Listorelle. Here, I got
him to write it down on a bit o' paper, not being used to foreign
names. He thinks she's something to do with the stage. She's the
tenant of flat twenty-six. But he says that of late she's seldom
there--comes for a night or two, then away, maybe for months at a time.
He saw her here yesterday, though; she hadn't been there, he says, for
a good bit. But there, it don't signify to him whether she's there or
away--always punctual with her money, and that's the main thing, ain't
it?"
Hetherwick added to his largess of the early morning, and went away.
He was now convinced that Lady Riversreade, for some purpose of her
own, kept up a flat in Paddington, visited it occasionally, and was
known there as Madame Listorelle. How much was there in that, and what
bearing had it on the problem he was endeavouring to solve?