'Employed here,' pursued Roger firmly, 'in the nitrobenzene department. You have a nitrobenzene department, haven't you? '
'Not that I'm aware of, I'm sure.'
Roger made the noise that is usually spelt 'Tchah! You know perfectly well what I mean. The department which handles the nitrobenzene used here. You are hardly prepared to deny that nitrobenzene is used here, I hope? And extensively?'
'Well, and what if it is?'
'It has been reported to my firm that this man met his death through insufficient warning having been issued to the employees here about the dangerous nature of this substance. I should like - - '
'What? One of our men died? I don't believe it. I should have been the first to know if - - '
'It's been hushed up,' Roger inserted quickly. 'I should like you to show me a copy of the warning that is hung up in the factory about nitrobenzene.'
'Well, I'm sorry then, but I'm afraid I can't oblige you.'
'Do you mean to tell me,' said Roger, much shocked, 'that no warning is issued at all to your employees about this most dangerous substance? They're not even told that it is a deadly poison? '
'I didn't say that, did I? Of course they're warned that it's poisonous. Everybody is. And they're most careful about the way it's handled, I'm sure. It just happens that there isn't a warning hung up. And if you want to know any more about it, you'd better see one of the directors. I'll - - '
'Thank you,' said Roger, speaking the truth at last, 'I've learned all I wanted. Good morning.' He retreated jubilantly.
He retreated to Webster's, the printers, in a taxi.
Webster's of course are to printing what Monte Carlo is to the Riviera. Webster's, practically speaking, are printing. So where more naturally should Roger go if he wanted some new notepaper printed in a very special and particular way, as apparently he did?
To the young woman behind the counter who took him in charge he specified at great length and in the most meticulous detail exactly what he did want. The young woman handed him her book of specimen pieces and asked him to see if he could find a style there which would suit him. While he looked through it she turned to another customer. Not to palter with the truth, that young woman had been getting a little weary of Roger and his wants.
Apparently Roger could not find a style to suit him, for he closed the book and edged a little along the counter till he was within the territory of the next young woman. To her in turn he embarked on the epic of his needs, and in turn too she presented him with her book of specimens and asked him to choose one. As the book was only another copy of the same edition, it is not surprising that Roger found himself no further forward.
Once more he edged along the counter, and once more he recited his saga to the third, and last, young woman. Knowing the game, she handed him her book of specimens. But this time Roger had his reward. This book was one of the same edition, but it was not an exact copy.
'Of course I'm sure you'll have what I want,' he remarked garrulously as he flicked over the pages, 'because I was recommended here by a friend who is really most particular. Most particular.'
'Is that so?' said the young woman, doing her best to appear extremely interested. She was a very young woman indeed, young enough to study the technique of salesmanship in her spare time; and one of the first rules in salesmanship, she had learned, was to receive a customer's remark that it is a fine day with the same eager and respectful admiration of the penetrating powers of his observation as she would accord to a fortune - teller who informed her that she would receive a letter from a dark stranger across the water containing an offer of money, on her note of hand alone. 'Well,' she said, trying hard, 'some people are particular, and that's a fact.'
'Dear me!' Roger seemed much struck. 'Do you know, I believe I've got my friend's photograph on me this very minute. Isn't that an extraordinary coincidence?'
'Well, I never,' said the dutiful young woman.
Roger produced the coincidental photograph and handed it across the counter. 'There! Recognise it?'
The young woman took the photograph and studied it closely. 'So that's your friend! Well, isn't that extraordinary? Yes, of course I recognise it. It's a small world, isn't it?'
'About a fortnight ago, I think my friend was in here last,' Roger persisted. 'Is that right?'
The young woman pondered. 'Yes, it would be about a fortnight ago, I suppose. Yes, just about. Now this is a line we're selling a good deal of just at present.'
Roger bought an inordinate quantity of note - paper he didn't want in the least, out of sheer lightness of heart. And because she really was a very nice young woman, and it was a shame to take advantage of her.
Then he went back to his rooms for lunch. Most of the afternoon he spent in trying apparently to buy a second - hand typewriter.
Roger was very particular that his typewriter should be a Hamilton No. 4. When the salesman tried to induce him to consider other makes he refused to look at them, saying that he had had the Hamilton No. 4 so strongly recommended to him by a friend, who had bought a second - hand one just about three weeks ago. Perhaps it was at this very shop? No? They hadn't sold a Hamilton No. 4 for the last two months? How very odd.
But at one shop they had; and that was odder still. The obliging salesman looked up the exact date, and found that it was just a month ago. Roger described his friend, and the salesman at once agreed that Roger's friend and his own customer were one and the same.
'Good gracious, and now I come to think of it,' Roger cried, ' I actually believe I've got my friend's photograph on me at this very minute. Let me see!' He rummaged in his pockets, and to his great astonishment produced the photograph in question.
The salesman most obligingly proceeded to identify his customer without hesitation. He then went on, just as obligingly, to sell Roger the second - hand Hamilton No. 4 which that enthusiastic detective felt he had not the face to refuse to buy. Detecting, Roger was discovering, is for the person without official authority to back him, a singularly expensive business. But like Mrs. Fielder - Flemming, he did not grudge money spent in a good cause.
He went back to his rooms to tea. There was nothing more to be done except await the call from Moresby.
It came sooner than he expected. 'Is that you, Mr. Sheringham? There are fourteen taxi - drivers here, littering up my office,' said Moresby offensively. 'They all took fares from Piccadilly Circus to the Strand, or vice versa, at your time. What do you want me to do with 'em?'
'Kindly keep them till I come, Chief Inspector,' returned Roger with dignity, and grabbed his hat. He had not expected more than three at the most, but he was not going to let Moresby know that.
The interview with the fourteen was brief enough however. To each grinning man in turn (Roger deduced a little heavy humour on the part of Moresby before he arrived) Roger showed the photograph, taking some pains to hold it so that Moresby could not see it, and asked if he could recognise his fare.
Not a single one could. Moresby dismissed the men with a broad grin.
'That's a pity, Mr. Sheringham. Puts a bit of a spoke in the case you're trying to work up, no doubt?'
Roger smiled at him in a superior manner. 'On the contrary, my dear Moresby, it just about clinches it.'
'It what did you say?' asked Moresby, startled out of his grammar. 'What are you up to, Mr. Sheringham, eh?'
'I thought you knew all that. Aren't we being sleuthed?'
'Well!' Moresby actually looked a shade out of countenance. 'To tell you the truth, Mr. Sheringham, all your people seemed to be going so far off the lines that I called my men off; it didn't seem worth while keeping 'em on.'
'Dear, dear,' said Roger gently. 'Fancy that. Well, it's a small world, isn't it?'
'So what have you been doing, Mr. Sheringham? You've no objection to telling me that, I suppose? '
'None in the least, Moresby. Your work for you. Does it interest you to know that I've found out who sent those chocolates to Sir Eustace?'
Moresby eyed him for a moment. 'It certainly does, Mr. Sheringham. If you really have.'
'Oh, I have, yes,' said Roger very nonchalantly; even Mr. Bradley himself could not have spoken more so. 'I'll give you a report on it as soon as I've got my evidence in order. - It was an interesting case,' he added. And suppressed a yawn.
