'Mr. Lomax, I understand, came to see you yesterday about a threatening letter he had had.'
'He did.'
'And that was written from Seven Dials?'
'It had Seven Dials written at the top of it, I believe.'
Bundle felt as though she was battering hopelessly on a locked door.
'If you'll let me advise you, Lady Eileen –'
'I know what you're going to say.'
'I should go home and – well, think no more about these matters.'
'Leave it to you, in fact?'
'Well,' said Superintendent Battle, 'after all, we are the professionals.'
'And I'm only an amateur? Yes, but you forget one thing – I mayn't have your knowledge and skill – but I have one advantage over you. I can work in the dark.'
She thought that the Superintendent seemed a little taken aback, as though the force of her words struck home.
'Of course,' said Bundle, 'if you won't give me a list of secret societies –'
'Oh! I never said that. You shall have a list of the whole lot.'
He went to the door, put his head through and called out something, then came back to his chair. Bundle, rather unreasonably, felt baffled. The ease with which he acceded to her request seemed to her suspicious. He was looking at her now in a placid fashion.
'Do you remember the death of Mr. Gerald Wade?' she asked abruptly.
'Down at your place, wasn't it? Took an overdraught of sleeping mixture.'
'His sister says he never took things to make him sleep.'
'Ah!' said the Superintendent. 'You'd be surprised what a lot of things there are that sisters don't know.'
Bundle again felt baffled. She sat in silence till a man came in with a typewritten sheet of paper, which he handed to the Superintendent.
'Here you are,' said the latter when the other had left the room. 'The Blood Brothers of St. Sebastian. The Wolf Hounds. The Comrades of Peace. The Comrades Club. The Friends of Oppression. The Children of Moscow . The Red Standard Bearers. The Herrings. The Comrades of the Fallen – and half a dozen more.'
He handed it to her with a distinct twinkle in his eye.
'You give it to me,' said Bundle, 'because you know it's not going to be the slightest use to me. Do you want me to leave the whole thing alone?'
'I should prefer it,' said Battle . 'You see – if you go messing round all these places – well, it's going to give us a lot of trouble.'
'Looking after me, you mean?'
'Looking after you, Lady Eileen.'
Bundle had risen to her feet. Now she stood undecided. So far the honours lay with Superintendent Battle. Then she remembered one slight incident, and she based a last appeal upon it.
'I said just now that an amateur could do some things which a professional couldn't. You didn't contradict me. That's because you're an honest man, Superintendent Battle. You knew I was right.'
'Go on,' said Battle quickly.
'At Chimneys you let me help. Won't you let me help now?'
Battle seemed to be turning the thing over in his mind. Emboldened by his silence, Bundle continued.
'You know pretty well what I'm like, Superintendent Battle. I butt into things. I'm a Nosy Parker. I don't want to get in your way or to try and do things that you're doing and can do a great deal better. But if there's a chance for an amateur, let me have it.'
Again there was a pause, and then Superintendent Battle said quietly:
'You couldn't have spoken fairer than you have done, Lady Eileen. But I'm just going to say this to you. What you propose is dangerous. And when I say dangerous, I mean dangerous.'
'I've grasped that,' said Bundle. 'I'm not a fool.'
'No,' said Superintendent Battle. 'Never knew a young lady who was less so. What I'll do for you, Lady Eileen, is this. I'll just give you one little hint. And I'm doing it because I never have thought much of the motto 'Safety First.' In my opinion half the people who spend their lives avoiding being run over by buses had much better be run over and put safely out of the way. They're no good.'
This remarkable utterance issuing from the conventional lips of Superintendent Battle quite took Bundle's breath away.
'What was the hint you were going to give me?' she asked at last.
'You know Mr. Eversleigh, don't you?'
'Know Bill? Why, of course. But what –'
'I think Mr. Bill Eversleigh will be able to tell you all you want to know about Seven Dials.'
'Bill knows about it? Bill?'
'I didn't say that. Not at all. But I think, being a quick-witted young lady, you'll get what you want from him.'
'And now,' said Superintendent Battle firmly, 'I'm not going to say another word.'
Chapter 11
DINNER WITH BILL
Bundle set out to keep her appointment with Bill on the following evening full of expectation.
Bill greeted her with every sign of elation.
'Bill really is rather nice,' thought Bundle to herself. 'Just like a large, clumsy dog that wags its tail when it's pleased to see you.'
The large dog was uttering short staccato yelps of comment and information.
'You look tremendously fit, Bundle. I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you. I've ordered oysters – you do like oysters, don't you? And how's everything? What did you want to go mouldering about abroad so long? Were you having a very gay time?'
'No, deadly,' said Bundle. 'Perfectly foul. Old diseased colonels creeping about in the sun, and active, wizened spinsters running libraries and churches.'
'Give me England ,' said Bill. 'I bar this foreign business – except Switzerland . Switzerland 's all right. I'm thinking of going this Christmas. Why don't you come along?'
'I'll think of it,' said Bundle. 'What have you been doing with yourself lately, Bill?'
It was an incautious query. Bundle had merely made it out of politeness and as a preliminary to introducing her own topics of conversation. It was, however, the opening for which Bill had been waiting.
'That's just what I've been wanting to tell you about. You're brainy, Bundle, and I want your advice. You know that musical show, 'Damn Your Eyes'?'
'Yes.'
'Well, I'm going to tell you about one of the dirtiest pieces of work imaginable. My God! the theatrical crowd. There's a girl – a Yankee girl – a perfect stunner –'
Bundle's heart sank. The grievances of Bill's lady friends were always interminable – they went on and on and there was no stemming them.
'This girl, Babe St. Maur her name is –'
'I wonder how she got that name?' said Bundle sarcastically.
Bill replied literally.
'She got it out of Who's Who. Opened it and jabbed her finger down on a page without looking. Pretty nifty, eh? Her real name's Goldschmidt or Abrameier – something quite impossible.'
'Oh, quite,' agreed Bundle.
'Well, Babe St. Maur is pretty smart. And she's got muscles. She was one of the eight girls who made the living bridge –'