“What was that all about?” Clarissa whispered.
“I’m not sure,” said I quite honestly. “Just someone popping up where he wasn’t expected. Probably just a coincidence.”
“Writers of romances know there is no such thing as ‘just a coincidence,’” said she smugly. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t like the looks of the fellow at all.”
“I’ll tell you all that I know about him later on.”
“See that you do.”
Having come at last to a figure that suited them both, Mr. Deuteronomy and the vicar clasped hands. Then did the jockey count out the sum into the clergyman’s hand. Though I had not a good view, judging from the time it took to count it out, it must have been a considerable amount. He turned round then and came toward us, casting not a downward glance as he passed beside the open grave. Looking from one of us to the other, he made it plain that he wished to be introduced to Clarissa. I did the formalities with dispatch and (I thought) a bit of style, as well.
“I wish to thank you both for coming to the service,” said Mr. Deuteronomy. “She got a proper sendoff, don’t you think?”
Clarissa seemed puzzled. “She?”
“Maggie, Margaret Mary-my niece.”
“Oh,” said she. “Oh, yes of course-the funeral. It was all quite grand. I. . I shall always remember it. The sermon!”
“The choir,” said I.
“Anyways,” said he, “it seemed like the least I could do for her.”
“You. .” I hesitated, not knowing quite how I might best frame the question. “You may not wish to go out today in search of your sister. I can well understand if you do not. Just say the word and-”
“Oh no! No indeed,” said he, interrupting. “I would not think of deserting the hunt. Not now, not ever! Just give me time to duck back to me ken to change me duds, and I’ll meet you at that same coffee house we met at yestermorn. That suit you?”
I nodded. “It suits me well.”
“Good. Then it’s agreed, ain’t it? Oh, but one more thing. When we first met, you had a pistol you was carryin’ about. You recall, you took it from that Tiddle woman.”
“I recall right enough.”
“Bring it along again, would you?”
“Why? Are the places we’ll visit today so dangerous that we must enter them armed?”
“No, not so. I’ve got a notion about that pistol, so bring it along. I’ll tell you about it when I see you in the Haymarket. And bring along that last pawn ticket, will you? That’s part of my notion.”
I spent the length of our walk to Number 4 Bow Street bringing Clarissa to date on aspects of the case. She wanted first to know all I could tell her about Walter Hogg-which, in truth, was not much.
“What is most interesting about him,” said I to her, “is that he has appeared quite unexpectedly twice since he first doffed his hat to Deuteronomy Plummer here in Covent Garden.”
“But, as I said earlier, Jeremy, there are no coincidences.”
“Well, no doubt they are rare, but surely this is one.”
“Perhaps-but I doubt it. Do you think he and Mr. Deuteronomy are acquainted?”
“I doubt that very strongly. You recall I offered to introduce him to Mr. Deuteronomy? Well, it seemed to me then that the fellow was truly in awe of the jockey. Look upon it so, Clarissa. We may see Deuteronomy as no more than one who rides upon racing horses-though having seen him at it, I can well believe that he is the very best there is-nevertheless, Mr. Hogg sees him as something more, a source of money, dependable income. I doubt not that Hogg makes more by betting upon Mr. Deuteronomy each Sunday than he does from laboring the rest of the week for his embalmer.”
Clarissa gave that some thought. “Do you mean, Jeremy, that there is so much to be made from wagering upon horses?”
“I’d say there was no question of it. Why, I saw near as much cash changing hands at Shepherd’s Bush a day past as I saw of an evening at Black Jack Bilbo’s Gaming Club.”
“Really? I’d no idea.”
“And bear in mind,” I continued, “that the meet in Shepherd’s Bush was by no means one of the grand races-nothing, that is, compared to what’s held at Newmarket out on the heath. You heard what Hogg had to say about that, didn’t you?”
“That all the best from all the counties would be there-horses, presumably.”
“Horses indeed! And they’ll be there to run because the prize money is grandest there-though Mr. Patley insists that for the owners and breeders it’s the honor of winning that means most.”
’Twas when this was said that we left the Garden and struck off down Russell Street on our way to Bow Street, just round the corner-that much I recall exact, though I am not near so certain of the precise words of Clarissa that followed. I believe, however, that they went something like this:
“Jeremy?”
“Yes, Clarissa, what is it?”
“That King’s Plate race in Newmarket-that’s next Sunday, is it not?”
“So it is.”
“Will you be going to it, as you did to Shepherd’s Bush, in order to keep an eye on our Mr. Deuteronomy?”
“I doubt it,” said I. “First of all, Newmarket is quite some distance north-near Cambridge it is. And then, too, Deuteronomy has been so cooperative the last day or two that I, personally, think there’s no need to keep a close watch on the fellow.”
“But say you were to go up there,” said she. “Since this is an all-England event, might it not be that there would be an even greater number of bettors, and consequently greater sums wagered?”
What was she getting at, I wondered. “That would be a probable result,” said I.
“Well then, Newmarket offers a great opportunity.”
“An opportunity of what sort?”
“Just think of it. If we were to combine your money with mine-we each have a little, after all-the combined amount would be, well, no longer just a little, but more than that.”
“Yet still not a lot!”
“Nevertheless,” she declared, “it could be enough to win us our fortune, given favorable odds.”
“
“Not with favorable odds and the right attitude.”
Though what she said was silly, somehow she did not appear silly saying it. No, the expression she wore on her face was one of quiet conviction. She believed profoundly in what she said.
“And what, pray tell, is the right attitude?”
“Prayerful and submissive.”
At that I threw up my hands in dismay. “Oh, Clarissa, be serious, won’t you?”
“I
Arriving as I did in the Haymarket Coffee House only minutes after my departure from Number 4 Bow Street, I expected to pass a quarter of an hour or more sipping my favorite Jamaica brew before the arrival of Mr. Deuteronomy. Had I not hurried the distance that I might enjoy myself thus? Some men can spend a day drinking their good English bitter, others will consume gin or rum as long as they are upright. Yet my passion had been and always would be to drink coffee. It is in every way superior to those alcoholic beverages, for while they stupefy him who partakes of them, coffee quickens and sharpens the senses and improves the function of the brain. Let all who doubt me note that coffee is the favored refreshment in all such places as Lloyd’s and the Old Bailey, in which the leaders of commerce, business, and the law do gather. Now, the Haymarket’s patrons, while in no wise leaders in such fields, were in no wise in the same class as the louts, criminals, and drunkards, who frequented
