The Professor read this letter through twice. His final conclusion was that this man Ludgrove had in some way discovered that the dead men had all been members of the Morlandson jury. After all, he knew from the Black Sailor’s words that Ludgrove had made inconvenient enquiries, and it was possible that he had somehow stumbled upon the truth. Anyway, there could be no harm in going to see him and hearing what he had to say. Besides, he had never conveyed to him the Black Sailor’s warning. Hanslet might have, but the Professor, who had penetrated the ill-concealed scepticism of the Inspector, considered this unlikely. In any case, by comparing notes with this man, who had been living in Praed Street throughout the period of the murders, he might derive a hint which would lead him to his goal.
For Dr. Priestley, although he appeared to have put the whole affair out of his mind, was in fact determined to find the solution of the problem. He felt that so far the part he had played had been a distinctly ignominious one. Both his theory of the motive of the crimes and his account of his meeting with the Black Sailor had been disregarded. And although Dr. Priestley affected to regard his excursions into the solution of criminal problems with half-amused tolerance, his ill-success hitherto in this instance was a secret, but none the less bitter, blow to his pride.
Yes, he would certainly go to see this man Ludgrove. His letter showed him to be a man above the ordinary standard of education of people in his position. Hanslet had spoken of him as a man of considerable intelligence. The Professor, considering the matter, felt that he might well have got into touch with him before. He began to think that he had been too ready to rely upon the police descriptions of the events which had taken place, and had neglected an alternative source of information which might contain many details of value. And, his determination made, the Professor fidgeted all day until, having hurried through dinner and found himself in his study earlier than usual, he could expect his visitor.
Mary had been instructed to show him straight in, and, when he was at length announced, the Professor rose at once to greet him. Mr. Ludgrove, seen for the first time, was certainly an imposing and dignified figure. His snowy white hair and beard gave him a patriarchal appearance, produced an almost severe impression, which was only modified by the kindly smile which habitually hovered at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were screened by his powerful spectacles, but one guessed them to be direct and piercing in their expression.
“I am delighted to meet you, Mr. Ludgrove,” said the Professor warmly. “Yes, I am Dr. Priestley, and this is my secretary, Mr. Merefield. I received your letter, and am much obliged to you for your suggestion, which I shall be very glad to fall in with.”
“Thank you, Dr. Priestley, you are very kind,” replied Mr. Ludgrove, in his deep and pleasant voice. The Professor glanced at him in astonishment. Neither the voice nor the intonation were such as he would have expected of a herbalist in Praed Street.
“It is a beautiful evening,” continued Mr. Ludgrove. “Shall we walk to my house, or would you prefer to call a taxi? I know that the vicinity of Praed Street has a bad reputation as a result of these deaths, but although, as you probably know, I received a numbered counter some weeks ago, I have so far come to no harm. You need have no apprehensions once we reach my house. The police still display considerable concern for my safety.”
Mr. Ludgrove smiled, and even the Professor’s set features relaxed a little. “I am not afraid to walk to Praed Street, especially in your company, Mr. Ludgrove,” he replied.
“And coming back?” persisted the herbalist. “I fear I have no telephone, and it may take me some minutes to find you a cab. I should be happy to walk back here with you.”
The Professor made an impatient gesture. “Believe me, Mr. Ludgrove, I am no more afraid of Praed Street than you are. If you insist upon walking home with me, I shall be very glad of your company. If not, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“It will be late, I am afraid, that is, if you have the patience to listen to me for so long,” replied Mr. Ludgrove. “I shall be compelled to inflict upon you a long and possibly tedious tale. However, you shall decide how much of it you wish to listen to.”
“I am usually considered a good listener,” said the Professor. “Shall we walk to your house, Mr. Ludgrove?”
The herbalist assenting, they left the house and walked down Westbourne Terrace together. Mr. Ludgrove’s shop was scarcely half a mile away, and they covered the distance in a few minutes, conversing about anything but the matter uppermost in their thoughts. The Professor found Mr. Ludgrove a most entertaining companion, and found himself wondering what such a man was doing to be compelled to keep a shop in such an odd neighbourhood.
They walked down Praed Street without adventure, and Mr. Ludgrove unlocked
