He let it drop into Rollison’s, and then gripped—and had Rollison not known that Percy Dann, for all his thinness, had remarkably powerful fingers, he would have been taken by surprise. Percy had spent several years in prison for using those remarkable fingers in order to pick locks, for he was double-jointed and had great dexterity as well as strength in them. He had since retired, and had succeeded in convincing the police that his only income now came from the little tobacconist’s shop in a side street leading from the Mile End Road.
“How’s Mrs. Dann?” asked Rollison, and Eddie gasped in dismay but could not prevent a five minutes’ discourse on the troubles of Mrs. Dann. She was not well. She had undergone two operations and the doctors didn’t know what they were doing; doctors, Percy Dann wouldn’t give a fiver for all the doctors in London; they had properly finished off his wife, they had, she was so weak she could hardly crawl about the shop. He began to go into some detail about the operations when Rollison asked him if he would have another.
“Why, sure, Mr. Ar,” said Percy, and finished his glass in a single gulp. “Same again, Eddie. I was saying”
“How’s Malloy getting on these days?” asked Rollison, quickly.
“Oh, ‘im,” said Percy, disparagingly. “I never did like that perisher an’ nor does the wife. Never will, neither. Why, lives next door to us, he does, an’ do you think ‘e made a single hinquiry about the wife when she ‘ad ‘er op.? Not ‘im. Didn’t trouble to hinquire once, not even when she come back.”
“How’s his business?” asked Rollison.
“Mighty suspicious, if you arst me,” said Percy darkly. “ ‘E’s got plenty of nickel, no questions asked. “E’d put Larry Bingham up ter that job larst night, if you arst me. Lot o’ coming and going there is, too. Why, if it ain’t Eddie wiv the goods,” he broke off, and did justice to the second pint, after wishing The Toff good luck.
“Who has come and gone?” asked Rollison, and before Percy could launch into a monologue, added: “Has there been a short, fat man who favours bright check suits?”
Percy looked at him shrewdly.
“Always on the mark, that’s Mr. Ar. You mean Ole Nosey.”
“Nosey?” repeated Rollison.
“S’right. I dunno “is name, but ‘e’s a reg’lar visitor, ‘as been for munce. Come along the road one day wiv a nose like a rear light—I remember it well because it was the day the wife come out, proper weak she was, but when she saw “is nose— laugh? She nearly died a’laughing! Said a man of “is age ought a know better than look through keyholes, she did; ‘e didn’t arf give ‘er a look. “Ad it for weeks, that nose. Well, a week, anyway.”
“How long ago was this?” asked Rollison.
“Matter o’ three or four weeks,” said Percy. “The wife’ll know, got a memory for dates, she “as. Tell yer what,” added Percy, lowering his voice. “Nosey was at Malloy’s last night, he was,
“About eight,” said Eddie.
“Then it musta been a bit before,” said Percy, “I see them both, I did, I said to myself, they’re up to a bit o’ no good, they are. You can always tell. When Larry got knocked off, was I surprised? No, sir, you ask the wife. I told ‘er, I said to ‘er, there’ll be trouble, Liz, you mark my words, Larry’s been out-a work too long. No, I wasn’t surprised. Takes a lot to surprise me,” added Percy, darkly. “You’d be surprised at what I know—wouldn’t ‘e, Eddie?”
“S’right,” said Eddie.
“I take a man for what he is,” went on Percy, “never mind “is business so long as ‘e pays spot cash, no credit in my business, no more than there is in Eddie’s.” The thought amused him. “Well,” he said, when he had recovered, “does it ‘elp, Mr. Ar?”
“A great deal.” said Rollison, warmly. “Has Nosey been along this morning?”
“The wife never said so, and there ain’t much that misses the missus,” declared Percy, and went off into another paroxysm of laughter. “Malloy’s at ‘ome—” ad two telegrams, I can tell you that; I see the boy myself. If I knew what was in them telegrams,” added Percy, “I could tell you a lot, that’s a fact. Well I’d better get along, dinner’ll be waiting and the wife likes me to ‘ave it ‘or. Be seeing yer, Mr. Ar.”
“You’ll see me in ten minutes or so,” said Rollison, “I’m coming to have a word with Mr. Malloy.”
“Cor, lumme,” said Percy, “some people don’t arf like trouble, don’t they, Eddie? An’ some works fast, I will say that fer you, Mr. Ar, you don’t let the grass grow in the medder! Why don’t you come along o’ me, an’ meet the missus?”
“I don’t want you mixed up in this,” said Rollison.
“I dunno as I wants to be mixed up in it meself,” said Percy, frankly, “but I don’t mind lendin’ you a n’and. Come to think,” he said, “Malloy’s been ‘avin’ some posh visitors lately. Made “is wife mad, the wife says.”
Rollison said, quickly: “Women?”
“There was one skirt,” said Percy. “Little thing, wiv a nose aimin’ at the sky. You know. Snub. All lad-di-dah.” Percy raised his voice an octave. “Weally, Mrs. Malloy, I’m only a
“When was she last there?” asked Rollison, feeling quite sure that this visitor was Janice Armitage.
“S’matter of fact I think the wife said she was along there just before I come for me pint,” said Percy. “I was at the back an’ never see her. Tell yer what, Mr. Ar—if she’s there, I’ll be in the winder of my shop. Okay?”
“I’ll come five minutes after you,” said Rollison.
“Gimme ten,” said Percy, “I got to ‘ave me dinner. Then there was another skirt, I never see much of ‘er. Come arter dark an’ went aht arter dark.”
“Oh,” said Rollison, thoughtfully, and thought of Lady Lost. Percy could give no details except that he thought she had a fur coat.
“So long, thanks for the pint,” said Percy. He winked, offered his hand again and this time left it limp in Rollison’s, and then walked out.
