French Makes a Second Assignation
About ten o’clock the next day French knocked at the door of No. 27
Nelson Street, and sending in a card inscribed “Mr. Joseph French,”
asked if he could see Miss Molly Moran.
He sat waiting in the plain, somewhat comfortless sitting room until
after some minutes the girl he had shadowed entered.
“Miss Moran?” he asked, with his pleasantest smile. “My business will
not take long. Will you sit down, please?”
She was a prettier girl than he had realized. Rather below middle
height, she had a graceful figure, with small shapely hands and feet.
Her hair and eyes were dark, her nose tilted delightfully, while a
stubborn little chin showed she had no lack of character.
“First,” French went on in low tones, glancing at the door, “I must
tell you that I am a detective officer from Scotland Yard,” and he
handed her his official card.
He was accustomed to seeing apprehension appear in the faces of those
to whom he made this announcement, both innocent and guilty, but he
was not prepared for its effect upon Miss Moran. For a moment an
expression of absolute terror twisted her features. Her eyes dilated
and her face became a chalky white. Then with an obvious effort she
pulled herself together and murmured “Yes?”
“You were expecting a visit of this kind, were you not?” French went
on. “You felt that sooner or later it must come?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” she cried hoarsely, but with delightful suggestion
of an Irish brogue. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I think you know. If you didn’t, why should my visit terrify you?”
“I am not terrified,” she declared in tremulous tones which belied her
words. “Why should you think a thing like that anyway?”
“How can I think anything else, Miss Moran? There is no use in your
taking that line. Your manner leaves no doubt of your feelings.”
She made a determined effort to pull herself together.
“Well,” she retorted with more confidence, “and can’t you understand
that the very appearance of a detective gentleman like yourself would
be enough to frighten anyone?”
French shook his head.
“It won’t do, Miss Moran,” he said, not unkindly. “You apprehend
danger to yourself from my call. You cannot deny anything so obvious.
But I want you to understand I’m not here to harm you. You have some
information that I require. That is all.”
She waited without speaking, evidently in no way reassured.
“First,” went on French, still speaking in low tones, “my business is
private. Are you sure we shall not be overheard? If there is any
chance of that I shall ask you to come out with me and we can discuss
the matter on a seat in one of the parks.”
She nodded quickly. “That’d be better,” she agreed. “If you go on,
I’ll follow.”
French rose. “Right then. What about the Charing Cross Gardens near
the Villiers Street entrance?” He remembered that this was where poor
Thurza Darke had met Westinghouse.
To his delight the shot told. She gave him a quick, terrified glance
as she faltered: “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Good.” Then loudly for the benefit of anyone who might be listening.
“Well, good-bye, Miss Moran. I’m glad to have had the pleasure of
meeting you.”
He had little doubt that the girl would keep her appointment, but he
was not so sure that she would not first communicate with some member
of the gang. Therefore as soon as he was out of sight of the house in
the direction she would expect him to take, he turned quickly down a
side street, and by making a short detour, regained Nelson Street on
the opposite side of the boarding house. Stepping into a shop, he laid
a shilling on the counter and asked if he might use the telephone.
“Scotland Yard speaking,” he called softly. “Please keep a note of any
calls from Gerrard 4763C during the next few minutes. Official demand
to your headquarters following.”
He had noticed the telephone in the hall of the boarding house.
Luckily for him it was one of those old-fashioned instruments which
bore a plate with the words “Your number is——,” followed by the digits
in question.
He left the shop quickly, so as to make sure that Miss Moran should
not give him the slip. She had not appeared, and once more becoming an
aimless lounger, he watched the boarding house door.
In about ten minutes she emerged and set off down the road. Slowly
French followed. But she attempted no excursions aside and within a
minute of the time appointed they met in the Gardens.
“Here is an empty seat,” French said, when he had gravely complimented
her on her punctuality. “Do you smoke?”
She accepted a cigarette, which he lit in silence, only continuing
when she was comfortably settled.
“Now, Miss Moran, you mustn’t be alarmed, but I have to tell you this
is a serious matter that you’ve got mixed up in. And I may tell you
too that your only chance of keeping out of personal trouble is to be
frank with me. If you tell me everything, I’ll do my level best for
you. But I assure you that I’m not threatening when I say that if you
mislead me you’ll bitterly regret it.”
The girl had evidently been thinking during her walk, and she replied
with some show of assurance.
“Och sure, Mr. French, I wouldn’t dream of not being frank with you.
But there’s nothing I have to tell.”
“I’m sorry to hear you say so,” French returned, “because your face
shows me the exact opposite. However, pass that for the moment. Will
you tell me why you travel every morning for a few hundred yards in
Mr. Curtice Welland’s car?”
The girl’s white face paled still further, but she made no reply.
“Do take my advice, Miss Moran,” French went on earnestly. “I may tell
you in confidence it is not you that I want, but Welland. But if you
persist in putting me off you’ll be in the same trouble yourself.
Believe me, you’re playing a more dangerous game than you know.”
For a few moments further she hesitated, then said sullenly:
“I’m not doing anything against the law.”
“In that case, Miss Moran, you can’t have any real objection to
telling me all about it.”
“You can’t make me say a single word if I don’t want to.”
“Perfectly true. But I can arrest you on a charge of criminal
conspiracy with Welland and certain other parties, and the public
prosecutor will make you tell in open court at your trial.”
“But you wouldn’t do a thing like that?” She spoke half coaxingly, but
the look of fear flashed again in her eyes.
“Not if you didn’t force me to.” French leant towards her and spoke
very earnestly. “Don’t you make any mistake, Miss Moran. It’s my
business to get this information and I’m going to get it. And what’s
more, you’re going to give it me. You can please yourself whether you
do it now or at Scotland Yard or at the Old Bailey. But you’re going
to give it to me.” His voice became coaxing in its turn. “Why not now,
just privately here between the two of us? I promise to help you and
to protect you from your accomplices.” He paused, then as she did not
speak, went on: “Do be sensible, Miss Moran. You’ll never get such a
chance again. Remember, it would be a hundred times worse in open
court with everyone against you.”
French felt that he was sailing rather near the wind in speaking in
this way. His justification to himself was that he was convinced of
the girl’s innocence, or rather that if guilty of crime, she had been
terrorized into it and wished to escape. But he was not in a position
to say this to her in so many words. He remained silent for a few
minutes, then just as he was about to resume his arguments, she spoke,
her emotion accentuating her brogue.
“I don’t think that’s a fair way you’re speaking to me at all,” she
said in a low tone, “but how am I going to stand up against the whole
British police? Sure I see that you’ve got me and I’ll have to tell
you what you want to know.”
“Believe me, you won’t regret it.”
“Well, then, if you must know, it’s about money,” she began with a
rush, as if, having decided to speak, she was now only anxious to get
her recital over. “I’ve been hard up for money. And you’ll be saying
it’s very wrong and foolish of me, but I’ve taken to gambling to raise
the wind. That Mr. Welland is a bookmaker. He has a scheme by which
you can stake on the tables at Monte Carlo, and you here in London all
the time. A girl I met told me about it. That’s what I’m doing in the
car. Mr. Welland said it was against the law to bet in the street and
that his office was too far away, so he would lift me for a moment in
his car while he took the money.”
French could scarcely restrain a chuckle of sheer delight as he
listened to this statement. It was even more gratifying news than that
the girls with whom Welland was dealing were employed in box offices.
For here was actual proof that he really was on the right track. The
scheme for betting on the Monte Carlo tables connected the cases. When
therefore he was investigating the affairs of Curtice Welland, he was
on the way to learning who murdered Thurza Darke and her fellow
victims. For the second time in two days he experienced that
delightful feeling of enthusiasm which came from progress and success.
At the same time he was puzzled by the girl’s manner. Experience told
him that a true confession produced symptoms of relief. But Miss Moran
had shown no such feeling. Indeed, she seemed more uneasy and
apprehensive than ever. Gradually an opinion crystallized in French’s
mind. He had not heard the truth. This story was an invention and the
girl was terrified lest he should see through it. A small test,
however, should settle the matter.
“Gambling may or may not be wise, Miss Moran,” he said gravely, “but
it is certainly not illegal and you have nothing to fear from the
police because of it. There surely must be something else. Has your
betting tempted you towards the till of the Panopticon?”
For a moment an indignant denial seemed imminent, then a fresh idea
appeared to dawn on the girl’s mind and she checked herself.
“Maybe there was something of the kind,” she said, averting her face
as if from shame. But French was certain she was now feeling relief.
So the little test had worked, and out of her own mouth the girl stood
convicted. French’s previous inquiries had proved that she was not
stealing from the till. But she had seen that her story lacked motive
and to bolster it up she had admitted a theft of which she was
innocent.
The business, then, was even more serious than he had supposed. This
girl was willing to risk arrest rather than reveal it. But French saw
that for the moment he would get no more out of her, and he set
himself to dispel her fears, so that the story she would almost
certainly tell to Welland would do as little harm as possible.
One other point, however, he did learn. At the moment he did not
appreciate its importance, but afterwards he saw that its discovery
formed an essential link in the chain by which he eventually
unravelled the mystery.
While going over with Miss Moran the places at which she had been
picked up and set down, he remembered that she had not been seen to
speak to Welland, and asked how she knew where to wait for the car.
Without hesitation she told him that five different places had been
chosen, which were used in rotation. This avoided stopping at the same
point each day, which might be noticeable, and the number five insured
a different place being used on the same day of each week.
“For example,” she said, “today I’ll be waiting for him at the corner
of Old Compton Street and Greek Street and he’ll run me to Green
Street. That’ll give me three or four minutes to fix up about the
stakes. Tomorrow I start again where you saw me first, and so on.”
From such slight threads are the webs of justice woven!
Before parting with her French became the heavy father. He told her he
was satisfied that she was doing something which she would be wiser to
leave alone, and though of course she was a free agent, he urged her
for her own sake to give it up. At all events, if she found herself in
any danger or difficulty she was to apply to the Yard, when he would
see that she got the help she needed.
“And don’t wait till it’s too late,” he concluded earnestly. “I don’t
want to frighten you, but I warn you very seriously to be careful.
Keep this interview secret from Welland. You may be in real personal
danger if you don’t. Other girls in your position have been indiscreet
and have paid for it with their lives—I’m not exaggerating, Miss
Moran—_with their lives_. So keep your mouth shut and if you are in
any danger don’t hesitate to ring up the Yard—Victoria 7000.”
She seemed considerably impressed as she gave him her promise. But she
had kept her secret and French, despondent over his failure, told
himself that his efforts had done nothing more than to put the
conspirators on their guard.
He wished her good day, and returned to the Yard. There he sent for no
less than five men.
“Three of you men get yourselves up as taximen,” he told them, “and
take out cars. The other two and myself will be your passengers. You
will stop in sight of the corner of Old Compton Street and Greek
Street and watch for a grey saloon car lifting a girl. All of you
follow this car. Drive as near it as possible and watch every motion
that the girl makes. See if she speaks to the driver and if possible
lip-read what she says. After she is set down in Green Street you are
finished and can come back to the Yard.”
This programme was carried out. When Molly Moran appeared at the end
of Greek Street three cars were standing before offices in different
parts of the street. On the appearance of Welland’s car they started
up their engines, and as he moved off they followed. One was slightly
in front with its occupant watching out of the back window by means of
a periscope, a second was almost abreast, while the third ran on ahead
to Charing Cross Road, ready to fall into place as Welland turned the
corner.
French’s three drivers showed immense skill in manœuvring their
vehicles into places of vantage. During the whole period in which Miss
Moran remained in the car, an observer was never more than ten feet
away. Sometimes one of the three would be nearest, sometimes another,
but none ever left the side of the grey car until the next was ready
to take its place.
The result both pleased and puzzled French. It pleased him because it
proved him correct in assuming the story of the gambling to be a
fabrication. After a brief good morning, lip-read by Carter, the girl
did not speak to Welland during the whole trip, nor did money or
letters pass between them. But French was puzzled by what she did. For
at least a minute she leant forward and appeared to feel at something
at her feet.
He pondered over this for some time, but could think of no explanation
but the obvious one that the girl was putting something into or taking
something out of a hidden receptacle. If so, he must inspect the car
and find it. Should this be his next step?
He thought so except for one point. Would it not be better to see
first if he could get anything out of the other three girls?
Eventually he decided that it would. If his inquiries were reported to
Welland it could scarcely matter whether it was by one girl or four.
If he, French, knew as much as he evidently did know about the
movements of Molly, Welland would recognize that he must know of the
other girls also.
Next morning therefore he made his three calls, in every case
unfortunately without result. All the girls showed signs of anxiety,
amounting almost to terror, on learning his business. But all, after
the application of a varying amount of pressure, told the story of the
gambling. He was satisfied that each was lying and that the story had
been rehearsed beforehand for use in just such an emergency.
There remained then the search of the car. To arrange an opportunity
was not an easy proposition. For a time he considered means of getting
it to the Yard, such as the arrest of Welland “by error,” followed by
an apology and an immediate release. But he thought that as long as
any other way remained, his superiors would not stand for such a
method. Besides, if by some remote chance the girls had not reported
his activities to Welland, it would put the man on his guard.
At last he decided that there was nothing for it but for him once
again to play the burglar. He must somehow get into the garage at
night, when he would have plenty of time to make an exhaustive
examination.
Though he did not see just how he was going to manage it, he decided
that the very next day he would make the attempt.