He pursued his
way, acknowledged the salutation of a porter who stood outside
the entrance to the Embassy Club, and proceeded, glancing about
him right and left and with some evident and definite purpose.
A constable standing at the corner of Conduit Street touched his
helmet as Kerry passed and the light of an arc-lamp revealed the
fierce red face. The Chief Inspector stopped, turned, and:
"What the devil's the idea?" he demanded.
He snapped out the words in such fashion that the unfortunate
constable almost believed he could see sparks in the misty air.
"I'm sorry, sir, but recognizing you suddenly like, I----"
"You did?" the fierce voice interrupted. "How long in the
force?"
"Six months, sir."
"Never salute an officer in plain clothes."
"I know, sir."
"Then why did you do it?"
"I told you, sir."
"Then tell me again."
"I forgot."
"You're paid to remember; bear it in mind."
Kerry tucked his malacca under his arm and walked on, leaving the
unfortunate policeman literally stupefied by his first encounter
with the celebrated Chief Inspector.
Presently another line of cars proclaimed the entrance to a club,
and just before reaching the first of these Kerry paused. A man
stood in a shadowy doorway, and:
"Good evening, Chief Inspector," he said quietly.
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