"Well, sir, well," grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, "and how does your little affair get on?"
"It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of arrest."
"By George! eh! what! Have you found him?" roared Tinkler, starting back with an incredulous look.
"I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham! Yes."
"Good!" snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion to his abrupt military manner. "His name?"
"I"ll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him.
It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector."
"Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir. Order is at the base of all discipline."
"I should rather say that discipline is the basis of order," returned Baltic, with a dry smile; "however, we can discuss that question later.
At present I shall detail my evidence against"--Mr Inspector leaned eagerly forward--"against the man who killed Jentham." Mr Inspector threw himself back with a disappointed snort.
""Tention!" threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to take notes. "Now, Mr Baltic, sir!"
"My knowledge of the man Jentham," droned Baltic, in his monotonous voice, "begins at the moment I was informed by Mr Cargrim that he called at the palace to see Bishop Pendle a few days before he met with his violent end. It would appear--although of this I am not absolutely certain--that the bishop knew Jentham when he occupied a more respectable position and answered to another name!"
"Memorandum," wrote down Tinkler, "to inquire if his lordship can supply information regarding the past of the so-called Jentham."
"The bishop," continued the narrator, with a covert smile at Tinkler"s unnecessary scribbling, "was apparently sorry to see an old friend in a homeless and penniless condition, for to help him on in the world he gave him the sum of two hundred pounds."
"That," declared Tinkler, throwing down his pen, "is charity gone mad--if"--he emphasised the word--"if, mark me, it is true."
"If it were not true I should not state it," rejoined Baltic, gravely.
"As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth. Bishop Pendle drew that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes. I have the numbers of those notes, and I traced several to the possession of the a.s.sa.s.sin, who must have taken them from the corpse. On these grounds, Mr Inspector, I a.s.sert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds."
Tinkler again took up his pen. "Memo," he set down, "to ask his lordship if he helped the so-called Jentham with money. If so, how much?"
"As you know," resumed Baltic, with deliberation, "Jentham was shot through the heart, but the pistol could not be found. It is now in my possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!"
"What! did she kill the poor devil?"
"I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector. Mother Jael knows nothing about the crime, save that she heard the shot and afterwards picked up the pistol near the corpse. I obtained it from her with considerable ease!"
"By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt."
Baltic shook his head. "I made no mention of the warrant, nor did I produce it," he replied, "but I happen to know something of the Romany tongue, and be what the Spaniards call "_affeciado_" to the gipsies.
When Mother Jael was convinced that I was a brother of tent and road, she gave me the pistol without ado. It is best to work by kindness, Mr Inspector."
"We can"t all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir. Proceed! What about the pistol?"
"The pistol," continued Baltic, pa.s.sing over the envious sneer, "had a silver plate on the b.u.t.t, inscribed with the letters "G.P." I did not know if the weapon belonged to Bishop George Pendle, Captain George Pendle, or to Mr Gabriel Pendle."
Inspector Tinkler looked up aghast. "By Jupiter! sir, you don"t mean to tell me that you suspected the bishop? Damme, Mr Baltic, how dare you?"
Now the missionary was not going to confide in this official thick-head regarding Cargrim"s suspicions of the bishop, which had led him to connect the pistol with the prelate; so he evaded the difficulty by explaining that as the lent money was a link between the bishop and Jentham, and the initials on the pistol were those of his lordship, he naturally fancied that the weapon belonged to Dr Pendle, "although I will not go so far as to say that I suspected him," finished Baltic, smoothly.
"I should think not!" growled Tinkler, wrathfully. "Bishops don"t murder tramps in England, whatever they may do in the South Seas!" and he made a third note, "Memo.--To ask his lordship if he lost a pistol."
"As Captain George Pendle is a soldier, Mr Inspector, I fancied--on the testimony of the initials--that the pistol might belong to him. On putting the question to him, it appeared that the weapon was his property--"
"The devil!"
"But that he had lent it to Mr Gabriel Pendle to protect himself from roughs when that young gentleman was a curate in Whitechapel, London."
"Well, I"m--d--blessed!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Tinkler, with staring eyes; "so Mr Gabriel killed Jentham!"
"Don"t jump to conclusions, Mr Inspector. Gabriel Pendle is innocent. I never thought that he was guilty, but I fancied that he might supply links in the chain of evidence to trace the real murderer. Of course, you know that Mr Gabriel lately went to Germany?"
"Yes, I know that."
"Very good! As the initials "G. P." also stood for Gabriel Pendle, I was not at all sure but what the pistol might be his. For the moment I a.s.sumed that it was, that he had shot Jentham, and that the stolen money had been used by him."
"But you hadn"t the shadow of a proof, Mr Baltic."
"I had the pistol with the initials," retorted the missionary, "but, as I said, I never suspected Mr Gabriel. I only a.s.sumed his guilt for the moment to enable me to trace the actual criminal. To make a long story short, Mr Inspector, I went up to London and called at Cook"s office.
There I discovered that Mr Gabriel had paid for his ticket with a ten-pound note. That note," added Baltic, impressively, "was one of those given by the bishop to Jentham and stolen by the a.s.sa.s.sin from the body of his victim. I knew it by the number."
Tinkler thumped the desk with his hand in a state of uncontrolled excitement. "Then Mr Gabriel must be guilty," he declared in his most stentorian voice.
"Hush, if you please," said Baltic, with a glance at the door. "There is no need to let your subordinates know what is not true."
"What is not true, sir?"
"Precisely. I questioned Mr Gabriel on my return, and learned that he had changed a twenty-pound note at The Derby Winner prior to his departure for Germany. Mosk, the landlord, gave him the ten I traced to Cook"s and two fives. Hush, please! Mr Gabriel also told me that he had lent the pistol to Mosk to protect himself from tramps when riding to and from Southberry, so--"
"I see! I see!" roared Tinkler, purple with excitement. "Mosk is the guilty man!"
"Quite so," rejoined Baltic, unmoved. "You have hit upon the right man at last."
"So Bill Mosk shot Jentham. Oh, Lord! Damme! Why?"
"Don"t swear, Mr Inspector, and I"ll tell you. Mosk committed the murder to get the two hundred pounds. I suspected Mosk almost from the beginning. The man was almost always drunk and frequently in tears. I found out while at The Derby Winner that he could not pay his rent shortly before Jentham"s murder. After the crime I learned from Sir Harry Brace, the landlord, that Mosk had paid his rent. When Mr Gabriel told me about the lending of the pistol and the changing of the note, I went to Sir Harry"s bank, and there, Mr Inspector, I discovered that the bank-notes with which he paid his rent were those given by the bishop to Jentham. On that evidence, on the evidence of the pistol, on the evidence that Mosk was absent at Southberry on the night of the murder, I ask you to obtain a warrant and arrest the man this afternoon."
"I shall see a magistrate about it at once," fussed Tinkler, tearing up his now useless memoranda. "Bill Mosk! Damme! Bill Mosk! I never should have thought a drunken hound like him would have the pluck to do it.
Hang me if I did!"
"I don"t call it pluck to shoot an unarmed man, Mr Inspector. It is rather the act of a coward."
"Coward or not, he must swing for it," growled Tinkler. "Mr Baltic, sir, I am proud of you. You have done what I could not do myself. Take my hand and my thanks, sir. Become a detective, sir, and learn our trade.
When you know our business you will do wonders, sir, wonders!"
In the same patronising way a rush-light might have congratulated the sun on his illuminating powers and have advised him to become--a penny candle.