A Mysterious Disappearance Part 42

"That I couldn't, sir. I am a rare 'and at langwidge, but I couldn't manage that."

"Why?"

"Because that night, sir, I were as full as a tick when I started. Lord love you, it must 'ave poured out of me afterwards when I started fightin' coppers. Mr. White, 'e knows, I ain't no fightin' man as a rule."

"And the _lady_? Did you see her?"

"No, sir. Leastways, I seed a bundle which I took to be a lydy, but her face was covered up with a shawl, and she was lyin' 'eavy in 'is arms as though she was mortal bad. He tell'd me she was sick."

"Did he? Anything else?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure it was a shawl?"

A vacuous smile spread over Foxey's countenance as he answered, "I ain't sure of anythink that 'appened that night."

"But were you not surprised when a man hired your cab under such peculiar circ.u.mstances, and paid you such a high fare?"

"We four-wheelers are surprised at nothink, sir. You don't know all wot goes on in kebs. Why, once crossin' Waterloo Bridge--"

"Never mind Waterloo Bridge, Foxey," put in the detective. "Keep your wits fixed on as much as you can remember of November 6."

"Where did he tell you to drive to?" went on Bruce.

"Just Putney. I was to drive my 'ardest. I recollect wantin' to pull up at the Three Bells, but 'e put 'is 'ead out an' said, 'Go on, driver. I am awfully late already.' So on I went."

"Where did you stop?"

"I don't know no more than the child unborn. By that time the drink was yeastin' up in me. The fare kept me on the road 'e wanted by shoutin'.

When we pulled up, 'e carries 'er into a lane. There was a big 'ouse there. I know that all right. After a bit 'e comes back and tips me a fiver. With that I whips up the old 'oss and gets back to the Three Bells. You know the rest, as the girl said when she axed the Bench to--"

"Yes, we know the rest," interrupted Bruce, "but I fear you are not able to help us much."

"This isn't a five-pun' job, eh, guv'nor?" said Foxey anxiously.

"Hardly at present. We shall see. Can you say exactly where you drew up your cab when the lady was carried into it?"

"Sure as death," replied the cabman, in the hope that his information might yet be valuable. "It was outside Raleigh Mansions, Sloane Square."

"We know that--"

"It seems to me, sir, as ye know as much about the business as I do,"

broke in Marsh.

"Were you in the Square or in Sloane Street?"

"In Sloane Street, of course. Right away from the Square."

"Not so very far away, surely."

Foxey was doubtful. His memory was hazy, and he feared lest he should be mistaken. "No, no," he said quickly, "not far, but still well in the street."

"Were there many people about?"

"You could 'ardly tell, sir; it was that foggy and nasty. If the lydy 'ad bin dead n.o.body would 'ave noticed 'er that night."

"Did any one besides yourself see the gentleman carrying the lady into the cab?"

"I think not. I don't remember anybody pa.s.sin' at the time."

"Did the gentleman keep your cab waiting long at the kerb before he brought the lady out?"

"It might 'a' bin a minute or two?"

"No longer?"

"Well, sir, it's 'ard for me to say, especially after bein' away for a change of 'ealth, so to speak."

"Did not the lady speak or move in any manner?"

"Not so far as I know, sir."

"And do you mean to tell me that, although you had been drinking, you were not astonished at the whole business?"

"I never axes my fares any questions 'cept when they says 'By the hour.'

Then I wants to know a bit."

"Yes; but this carrying of a lady out of a house in such fas.h.i.+on--did not this strike you as strange?"

"Strange, bless your 'eart, sir. You ought to see me cartin' 'em off from the Daffodil Club after a big night--three and four in one keb, all blind, paralytic."

"No doubt; but this was not the Daffodil Club at daybreak. It was a respectable neighborhood at seven o'clock, or thereabouts, on a winter's evening."

"It ain't my fault," said Foxey doggedly. "Wot was wrong with the lydy?

Was it a habduction?"

"The lady was dead--murdered, we believe."

The cabman's face grew livid with anxiety.

"Oh, crikey, Mr. White," he cried, addressing the detective, "I knew nothink about it."

"No one says you did, Foxey," was the reply. "Don't be frightened. We just want you to help us as far as you can, and not to get skeered and lose your wits."

Thus rea.s.sured, Marsh mopped his head and said solemnly:

"I will do wot lies in my power, gentlemen both, but I wish I 'adn't bin so blamed drunk that night."