The Talleyrand Maxim by J. S. Fletcher (book reader for pc .TXT) 📖

sir,” replied the landlord. “It makes a nice walk out on

a Sunday. And it were on a Sunday, too, ‘at I got to know this here

James Parrawhite as you want to know summat about. He began coming to my

place of a Sunday evenin’, d’ye see, gentlemen?—he’d walk across t’

valley up there to Whitcliffe and stop an hour or two, enjoyin’ hisself.

Well, now, as you’re no doubt well aweer, Mr. Eldrick, he were a reight

hand at talkin’, were yon Parrawhite—he’d t’ gift o’ t’ gab reight

enough, and talked well an’ all. And of course him an’ me, we hed bits

o’ conversation at times, ‘cause he come to t’ house reg’lar and

sometimes o’ week-nights an’ all. An’ he tell’d me ‘at he’d had a deal

o’ experience i’ racin’ matters—whether it were true or not, I couldn’t

say, but–-”

 

“True enough!” said Eldrick. “He had.”

 

“Well, so he said,” continued Pickard, “and he was allus tellin’ me ‘at

he could make a pile o’ brass on t’ turf if he only had capital. An’ i’

t’ end, he persuaded me to start what he called investin’ money with him

i’ that way—i’ plain language, it meant givin’ him brass to put on

horses ‘at he said was goin’ to win, d’ye understand?”

 

“Perfectly,” replied Eldrick. “You gave him various amounts which he was

to stake for you.”

 

“Just so, sir! And at first,” said Pickard, with a shake of the head,

“at first I’d no great reason to grumble. He cert’ny wor a good hand at

spottin’ a winner. But as time went on, I’ t’ greatest difficulty in

gettin’ a settlement wi’ him, d’ye see? He wor just as good a hand at

makin’ excuses as he wor at pickin’ out winners—better, I think! I

nivver knew wheer I was wi’ him—he’d pay up, and then he’d persuade me

to go in for another do wi’ t’ brass I’d won, and happen we should lose

that time, and then of course we had to hev another investment to get

back what we’d dropped, and so it went on. But t’ end wor this

here—last November theer wor about fifty to sixty pound o’ mine i’ his

hands, and I wanted it. I’d a spirit merchant’s bill to settle, and I

wanted t’ brass badly for that. I knew Parrawhite had been paid, d’ye

see, by t’ turf agent, ‘at he betted wi’, and I plagued him to hand t’

brass over to me. He made one excuse and then another—howsumivver, it

come to that very day you’re talkin’ about i’ your advertisement, Mr.

Eldrick—the twenty-third o’ November–-”

 

“Stop a minute, Mr. Pickard,” interrupted Eldrick. “Now, how do you

know—for a certainty—that this day you’re going to talk about was the

twenty-third of November?”

 

The landlord, who had removed his hands from his pockets, and was now

twiddling a pair of fat thumbs as he talked, chuckled slyly.

 

“For a very good reason,” he answered. “I had to pay that spirit bill I

tell’d about just now on t’ twenty-fourth, and that I’m going to tell

you happened t’ night afore t’ twenty-fourth, so of course it were t’

twenty-third. D’ye see?”

 

“I see,” asserted Eldrick. “That’ll do! And now—what did happen?”

 

“This here,” replied Pickard. “On that night—t’ twenty-third

November—Parrawhite came into t’ Green Man at about, happen,

half-past eight. He come into t’ little private parlour to me, bold as

brass—as indeed, he allers wor. ‘Ye’re a nice un!’ I says. ‘I’ve

written yer three letters durin’ t’ last week, and ye’ve nivver answered

one o’ ‘em!’ ‘I’ve come to answer i’ person,’ he says. ‘There’s nobbut

one answer I want,’ says I. ‘Wheer’s my money?’ ‘Now then, be quiet a

bit,’ he says. ‘You shall have your money before the evening’s over,’ he

says. ‘Or, if not, as soon as t’ banks is open tomorrow mornin’,’ he

says. ‘Wheer’s it coomin’ from?’ says I. ‘Now, never you mind,’ he says.

‘It’s safe!’ ‘I don’t believe a word you’re sayin’,’ says I. ‘Ye’re

havin’ me for t’ mug!—that’s about it.’ An’ I went on so at him, ‘at i’

t’ end he tell’d me ‘at he wor presently goin’ to meet Pratt, and ‘at he

could get t’ brass out o’ Pratt an’ as much more as iwer he liked to ax

for. Well, I don’t believe that theer, and I said so. ‘What brass has

Pratt?’ says I. ‘Pratt’s nowt but a clerk, wi’ happen three or four

pound a week!’ ‘That’s all you know,’ he says. ‘Pratt’s become a gold

mine, and I’m going to dig in it a bit. What’s it matter to you,’ he

says, ‘so long as you get your brass?’ Well, of course, that wor true

enough—all ‘at I wanted just then were to handle my brass. And I tell’d

him so. ‘I’ll brek thy neck, Parrawhite,’ I says, ‘if thou doesn’t bring

me that theer money eyther tonight or t’ first thing tomorrow—so now!’

‘Don’t talk rot!’ he says. ‘I’ve told you!’ And he had money wi’ him

then—‘nough to pay for drinks and cigars, any road, and we had a drink

or two, and a smoke or two, and then he went out, sayin’ he wor goin’ to

meet Pratt, and he’d be back at my place before closin’ time wi’ either

t’ cash or what ‘ud be as good. An’ I waited—and waited after closin’

time, an’ all. But I’ve nivver seen Parrawhite from that day to

this–nor heerd tell on him neither!”

 

Eldrick and Byner looked at each other for a moment. Then the solicitor

spoke—quietly and with a significance which the agent understood.

 

“Do you want to ask Mr. Pickard any questions?” he said.

 

Byner nodded and turned to the landlord.

 

“Did Parrawhite tell you where he was going to meet Pratt?” he asked.

 

“He did,” replied Pickard. “Near Pratt’s lodgin’ place.”

 

“Did—or does—Pratt live near you, then?”

 

“Closish by—happen ten minutes’ walk. There’s few o’ houses—a sort o’

terrace, like, on t’ edge o’ what they call Whitcliffe Moor. Pratt

lodged—lodges now for all I know to t’ contrary—i’ one o’ them.”

 

“Did Parrawhite give you any idea that he was going to the house in

which Pratt lodged?”

 

“No! He were not goin’ to t’ house. I know he worn’t. He tell’d me ‘at

he’d a good idea what time Pratt ‘ud be home, ‘cause he knew where he

was that evening and he were goin’ to meet him just afore Pratt got to

his place. I know where he’d meet him.”

 

“Where?” asked Byner. “Tell me exactly. It’s important.”

 

“Pratt ‘ud come up fro’ t’ town i’ t’ tram,” answered Pickard. “He’d

approach this here terrace I tell’d you about by a narrow lane that runs

off t’ high road. He’d meet him there, would Parrawhite.”

 

“Did you ever ask any question of Pratt about Parrawhite?”

 

“No—never! I’d no wish that Pratt should know owt about my dealin’s

with Parrawhite. When Parrawhite never come back—why, I kep’ it all to

myself, till now.”

 

“What do you think happened to Parrawhite, Mr. Pickard?” asked Byner.

 

“Gow, I know what I think!” replied Pickard disgustedly. “I think ‘at if

he did get any brass out o’ Pratt—which is what I know nowt about, and

hewn’t much belief in—he went straight away fro’ t’ town—vanished! I

do know this—he nivver went back to his lodgin’s that neet, ‘cause I

went theer mysen next day to inquire.”

 

Eldrick pricked up his ears at that. He remembered that he had sent

Pratt to make inquiry at Parrawhite’s lodgings on the morning whereon

the money was missing.

 

“What time of the day—on the twenty-fourth—was that, Mr. Pickard?” he

asked.

 

“Evenin’, sir,” replied the landlord. “They’d nivver seen naught of him

since he went out the day before. Oh, he did me, did Parrawhite! Of

course, I lost mi brass—fifty odd pounds!”

 

Byner gave Eldrick a glance.

 

“I think Mr. Pickard has earned the ten pounds you offered,” he said.

 

Eldrick took the hint and pulled out his chequebook.

 

“Of course, you’re to keep all this private—strictly private, Mr.

Pickard,” he said as he wrote. “Not a word to a soul!”

 

“Just as you order, sir,” agreed Pickard. “I’ll say nowt—to nobody.”

 

“And—perhaps tomorrow—perhaps this afternoon—you’ll see me at the

Green Man,” remarked Byner. “I shall just drop in, you know. You

needn’t know me—if there’s anybody about.”

 

“All right, sir—I understand,” said Pickard.

 

“Quiet’s the word—what? Very good—much obliged to you, gentlemen.”

 

When the landlord had gone Eldrick motioned Byner to pick up his hat.

“Come across the street with me,” he said. “I want us to have a

consultation with a friend of mine, a barrister, Mr. Collingwood. For

this matter is assuming a very queer aspect, and we can’t move too

warily, nor consider all the features too thoroughly.”

 

Collingwood listened with deep interest to Eldrick’s account of the

morning’s events. And once again he was struck by the fact that all

these various happenings in connection with Pratt, and now with

Parrawhite, took place at the time of Antony Bartle’s death, and he said

so.

 

“True enough!” agreed Eldrick.

 

“And once more,” pointed out Collingwood. “We’re hearing of a hold!

Pratt claims to have a hold on Mrs. Mallathorpe—now it turns out that

Parrawhite boasted of a hold on Pratt. Suppose all these things have a

common origin? Suppose the hold which Parrawhite had—or has—on Pratt

is part and parcel of the hold which Pratt has on Mrs. Mallathorpe? In

that case—or cases—what is the best thing to do?”

 

“Will you gentlemen allow me to suggest something?” said Byner. “Very

well—find Parrawhite! Of all the people concerned in this, Parrawhite,

from your account of him, anyway, Mr. Eldrick, is the likeliest person

to extract the truth from.”

 

“There’s a great deal in that suggestion,” said Eldrick. “Do you know

what I think?” he went on, turning to Collingwood, “Mr. Byner tells me

he means to stay here until he has come across some satisfactory news of

Parrawhite or solved the mystery of his disappearance. Well, now that

we’ve found that there is some ground for believing that Parrawhite was

in some fashion mixed up with Pratt about that time, why not place the

whole thing in Mr. Byner’s hands—let him in any case see what he can do

about the Parrawhite-Pratt business of November twenty-third, eh?”

 

“I take it,” answered Collingwood, looking at the inquiry agent, “that

Mr. Byner having heard what he has, would do that quite apart from us?”

 

“Yes,” said Byner. “Now that I’ve heard what Pickard had to say, I

certainly shall follow that up.”

 

“I am following out something of my own,” said Collingwood, turning to

Eldrick. “I shall know more by this time tomorrow. Let us have a

conference here—at noon.”

 

They separated on that understanding, and Byner went his own ways. His

first proceeding was to visit, one after another, the Barford newspaper

offices, and to order the insertion in large type, and immediately, of

the Halstead-Byner advertisement for news of Parrawhite. His second was

to seek the General Post Office, where he wrote out and dispatched a

message to his partner in London. That message was in cypher—translated

into English, it read as follows:—

 

“If person named Pratt sends any communication to us re

Parrawhite, on no account let him know I am in Barford, but

forward whatever he sends to me at once, addressed to H.D.

Black, Central Station Hotel.”