As Marlow had foreseen the biggest men at the criminal bar had been retained for the prisoners. But the first hearing at the police court was purely a formal affair, and Labar betook himself to the Home Office to consult with the Public Prosecutor, whose cold trained legal brain had already got a plan of campaign mapped out. The Solicitor-General was to lead for the prosecution, and every legal resource at the disposal of the Government was to be put at his disposition.
For only one person did Labar put in a plea for such leniency as could be afforded. That was Sophie Lengholm.
“H’m.” The Public Prosecutor frowned. “She’s in the same class as several of the others. We might tell the judge she saved your life. Is there anything up against her besides the present case?” He rummaged among his papers. “I have nothing here.”
“I know of no other charge which we have any chance of substantiating,” declared Labar.
“Then leave it as it is. We’ll do what we can.”
The weeks passed with long, drawn-out hearings at the police court, and the preliminary skirmishes of counsel. Almost every other day Labar found the tangle which he was unravelling lead to the arrest of someone or the other of the criminals who formed the aristocracy of crookdom in the metropolis. Even he was surprised at the ramifications of Larry’s interests.
As a receiver on a wholesale scale Larry seemed to have dealt directly or indirectly with half the rogues in London. As is the way in these matters one thing led to another. The unearthing of a small receiver who was in the habit of passing on his biggest loot to Larry Hughes, would bring about the discovery of a nest of smaller crooks who had scarcely heard of Larry.
“There’ll be no work left for the C.I.D. if things go on like this,” lamented Winter.
Labar had forgotten about golf although his handicap would be seriously in danger. There were other things for him, which circumstances would not allow him to neglect. He was no longer driving a machine; he was part of a machine and willy-nilly he had to go forward.
It must not be supposed that he did not have his occasional hours of leisure. Penelope, however, had a mortgage upon these, and she did not play golf, although she promised at a later stage to take it up.
“You see you’re constitutionally a lazy man, Harry,” she explained. “I can’t allow you to have any other interests but your work—and myself. You’ll soon have a wife to support.”
“That’s a point,” he agreed. “But I’m not so sure that I want to marry you after all. You see—”
She looked at him with perturbed eyes and pouting lips. “If—” she began.
“I saw poor old Gertstein’s solicitors today,” he interrupted. “They know how things stand between you and me, and they confided something to me. It may make a difference.”
“How?”
“It’s his will. He’s left the bulk of his fortune to nephews and other distant relatives. Mrs. Gertstein is to get two thousand pounds a year, and a similar sum has been left to you. The will was made a few days before his death. So in a way you’re an heiress, you see. And I’m only a chief detective inspector getting a few hundreds a year.”
She smiled and put her arms round his neck. “That all. Then I’ll tell you what we’ll do. As soon as this case is over we’ll get married—ever so quietly—and you shall retire and play golf all day long if you want to.”
“I won’t deny the first part of that proposition,” he said. “On the other I’m afraid I can’t agree. I’m going on with my job. I’m not going to live on my wife.”
She kissed him. “Do you know that in some ways you’re delightfully early Victorian? But I love you for it. Go on being a policeman until you are a thousand if you like.”
“I’m afraid that they won’t stand me that long,” he reflected, with half-whimsical seriousness. “They were finding me out before this case began. I suppose I am an indolent man. It’s a notorious fact. I hate to be bored. When I joined the service I had funny ideas about detectives, I thought of the excitement and not of the monotony. Now action stirs me up. There’s not a deal of fun in finding out a man who has pilfered a hundredweight of coals out of a station yard, nor in sifting and making out dry official papers day after day. That sends me into a kind of stupor and my brain will not act. They’ll certainly find out that I’m a four-flusher one of these days.”
“I think Mr. Winter knows more about you than you do yourself,” she protested.
“Yes. Winter’s a downy bird. He knows that I’ve got a conscience. It really used to hurt me to play golf sometimes,” he fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and his face turned a bright scarlet. “Say, dear—”
“Well?”
“Do you know I’ve forgotten—that is I haven’t had time—I mean I meant to—perhaps you’ve been wondering—well it comes to this—” He made a desperate plunge. “The long and short of it is that I’ve been meaning to get you a ring and—and—”
Her clear laughter rang through the room. “You’ve been too lazy to get it.”
“Not exactly that,” he protested.
She shook her head reprovingly. “Don’t stumble any more. You’ll only get in deeper. Have you any money on you?”
He displayed a well-filled wallet.
“That’s all right. Stay right where you are. I’m going to put on my things, and we’re going out now, immediately. You’re not going to escape me, Harry
