"Got some information for me?"
"I think so; but walk on."
Chief Inspector Kerry hesitated. Peters belonged to a class
which Kerry despised with all the force of his straightforward
character. A professional informer has his uses from the police
point of view; and while evidence of this kind often figured in
reports made to the Chief Inspector, he personally avoided
contact with such persons, as he instinctively and daintily
avoided contact with personal dirt. But now, something so big
was at stake that his hesitation was only momentary.
A vision of the pale face of Lady Rourke, of the golden head
leaning weakly back upon the cushions of the coupe, as he had
glimpsed it in Bond Street, rose before his mind's eye as if
conjured up out of the fog. Peters shuffled along beside him,
and:
"Young Chada's done himself in to-night," continued the husky
voice. "He brought a swell girl to the old man's house an hour
ago. I was hanging about there, thinking I might get some
information. I think she was doped."
"Why?" snapped Kerry.
"Well, I was standing over on the other side of the street. Lou
Chada opened the door with a key; and when the light shone out I
saw him carry her in."
"Carry her in?"
"Yes.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86