stevens stared helplessly at the speaker. he tried to speak, but his jaw dropped. he mumbled something that was quite impossible to understand. but, at the same time, he recognised the peril of his position. there was a ghastly green tinge on his face, his hand trembled. dallas regarded him pleasantly enough. there was nothing harsh or stern in the detective's manner. his quiet air of assured triumph struck a greater terror into stevens than any sternness would have done. the shabby little man wriggled about in his seat looking very much like a rat behind the bars of a cage.
"take your time," dallas said quietly. "you will find in the long run that it will pay you a great deal better to tell the truth."
"i have always told the truth," stevens stammered.
"up to a certain point, yes. but you didn't go far enough. for instance, you might have told the coroner that you saw mr. delahay's lady visitor a second time. you might have gone further, and told the court that mr. delahay had other visitors long after his first one had gone. you see, that would have helped the police a good deal, and it would have effectually cleared an innocent lady whom we suspected of having a hand in the murder. now who was it that called at the studio in the early hours of the morning?"
"how should i know?" stevens said sullenly.
"that, my good man, is for you to say. but you need not answer unless you like. it so happens that you are waiting here for the individual in question this very moment."
the greenish hue crept over stevens' face again. he could only stare at the speaker with open-mouthed astonishment. dallas' manner grew a little more stern and curt as he rose from his seat.
"you will stay where you are," he said, "and with these two gentlemen i will go into the next box. i think i can trust you not to betray our presence there. in fact, your safety, to a large extent, depends upon your actions in the next hour or so."
"i have done nothing," stevens burst out. "i swear i have done nothing. i had no hand in it at all."
"that i quite believe," dallas replied. "it was afterwards that you began to see your way to make some money out of it. and now let me tell you something. you don't deserve any consideration at my hands, but i am prepared to spare you as far as possible. oh, i know you will play me false at the first chance. but let me tell you, i know all about your visit to your friend, perks, of cannon green. i know how you disposed of certain stolen goods which, until the night of the murder, were in the possession of mr. louis delahay. after that, i don't think you will deem it prudent to try any of your nonsense with me."
dallas turned away, and, with his two companions, entered the next box. it was gloomy enough there, so that their presence was not likely to be detected by anyone who came in. walter turned eagerly to dallas. his curiosity was aroused now. he wanted to know how it was that the inspector knew so much.
"it was mere conjecture on my part," dallas said. "of course, what you told me gave me a great deal of assistance; but i did not begin to see my way quite clearly until we followed stevens here. the landlord of this public-house has never got into trouble as yet. but we know perfectly well that a good deal of stolen property is disposed of, and when i saw stevens turn in here, things became plain enough. he was coming to meet his accomplice, and hand over his share of the money which he had obtained from perks. before half an hour is over, the real culprit will be here. please stop talking directly anybody comes in. it will spoil everything if our presence here becomes known."
it was precisely as dallas had said. some twenty minutes later a man lounged into the bar and called for something to drink. he seemed to suspect nothing, he appeared to be perfectly at his ease. he whistled some music-hall air merrily. the man was fairly well-dressed. a gaudy cap on the back of his head disclosed a plaster of greasy curls on a peculiarly low and retreating forehead. the stranger might have been a street hawker in his best clothes. certainly he did not suggest a professional criminal.
he swallowed his drink and strolled towards the fireplace without noticing the three occupants in the recesses of the box. then he caught sight of stevens, and took a seat by his side. the conversation was conducted in whispers, but it was possible for the listeners to hear most of what was taking place.
"well, did you manage it all right?" the newcomer asked.
"don't trouble about that," stevens muttered. "but i didn't get half as much as you thought i should. forty pounds was the price my man offered, and he wouldn't give another penny."
the newcomer growled something incoherent. then there was a chink of money stealthily passed, followed by a volley of oaths from stevens' companion.
"the game isn't worth playing," he muttered. "fancy, twenty quid for a job like that, and the chance of hanging into the bargain. i wish i had never gone there, john. i wish i had never met you that night, when you told me all about the house in fitzjohn square. i wake up in the night in a bath of cold sweat when i think of it. fancy going into what you take to be an empty house, and finding a dead body staring up in your face from the floor! yes, i took his watch and chain all right, but i don't know where i got the pluck from. took the risk of being strung up for it, bli'me! and me ready to get married, and the date fixed and all! lord, if i could only see my way to get clear of it all! twenty quid against a man's life! you go and try it yourself, and see what it's like, my ancient pal. when i recollect as it was you as told me of the broken catch on the studio window, i could bash your face in, i could. i can't forget it. i have tried drink, but that is no use. you can stave it off for an hour or two, and then it comes back worse than ever. and all for the sake of twenty quid!"
stevens made no reply. he sat there quivering from head to foot, sick with suspense and anxiety, wondering in his mind when dallas was going to strike. at any other time the ghastly colour of his face would have attracted the attention of his companion, but the other man was occupied with his own thoughts. he was staring moodily into the fireplace.
"don't talk about it," stevens managed to say at length. "if you had told me about it at the time, i never should have touched that stuff. but i had got it in my pocket, and i had given my word before ever i had heard of the murder. and how was i to know that there was a chance of mr. delahay coming back? if anything happens you will say as much for me, won't you?"
stevens asked the question with trembling eagerness. he made his request more with a view to impressing dallas than anything else. but the culprit by his side, apparently, had no idea of the drift of the question, or why it was asked.
"oh, you have nothing to fear," he said moodily. "at least, it is all right as long as that stuff isn't traced. but what is the use of sitting here jawing like this? let us go to a music-hall or theatre or something of that kind--anything to get away from one's thoughts. every now and again----"
the speaker rose to his feet, and stevens dragged his trembling limbs from the settee. at the same moment, dallas appeared upon the scene and touched the stranger lightly on the shoulder.
"i hope you know who i am," he said.
the other man heaved a sigh, which sounded almost like relief. just for a moment all the blood left his face. then he recovered himself and looked at dallas steadily.
"dallas, of scotland yard," he said. "oh, i know you well enough, sir, and i expect you know me."
"name of cooney," dallas said briskly. "jim cooney. i arrest you for burglary at the residence of mr. louis delahay, in fitzjohn square."
"yes, that's right enough," cooney said. "i am not going to complain. upon my word, i am glad it is over. if you just let me have a cigarette and another drink i'll tell you all about it; and a nice sort of pal you are, stevens. oh, i'd give something to have you for five minutes to myself. you sneaking rat!"
"i couldn't help myself," stevens whined. "upon my word, i couldn't. besides, what does it matter? inspector dallas knows all about it. he even knew you were coming here tonight, though i swear he never had a single hint from me. isn't that so, inspector? am i telling the truth, or am i a liar?"
"it is perfectly true, cooney," dallas explained. "i followed stevens here, knowing quite well that he was waiting for you."
the assurance seemed to be sufficient, for cooney asked no further questions. nor was it for dallas to explain that, till a few moments ago, he had no idea of the real identity of the man whom stevens had come to meet. cooney took a long whiff of his cigarette and pitched the end of it into the fireplace.
"i am quite ready for you now," he said, "and i'll tell you all about it if you like. oh, i know everything i say will be taken down in evidence against me; but it is little i mind that. i plundered the dead body of mr. delahay, all right. he was dead when i got there, and if i didn't tell you so, you overheard enough to jug me half a dozen times. don't look at me like that mr. dallas, sir. don't think as i had any hand in the murder, sir. may i die if i ain't as innocent of that as a kid."
"better not say too much," dallas suggested. "really, i am not curious to hear. and now, come along. you can have a cab if you like. perhaps you may come out of this better than you expect--if you are only candid."
"don't be in a hurry," cooney pleaded. "i'll tell you everything, sir, i will--straight--everything from start to finish. sit down and listen to me; and you need not be afraid that i shall try and escape. i don't want to."
