“It was raining, was it not?”

“Just starting to drizzle, sir. Later on it came on to rain proper hard.”

“But you are sure it was Mr. James?”

“Oh, yes, sir. I knows him all right. I’ve seen him, mornings and evenings, often.”

“And did you see these two again later on?”

“Mr. James I did, sir, not the other one.”

“Where was that?”

“Just outside of No. 27, sir. It had come on to rain, then, hard, and I was just going off down the Gardens to the public in Lower Daylesford Street. I heard the door bang and I looks round and sees Mr. James going up the Gardens the way he’d come, walking fast.”

“He was quite close to you, then?”

“Just the width of the street away, sir, that’s all.”

“Had he anything with him?”

“Just a bag in his hand, sir, same as he always carried. I don’t know as I ever see’d him without it.”

“Was he carrying it when you saw him first?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I’m sure he was.”

“And what time was it when you saw him the second time?”

Roach paused a moment, and passed the back of his hand across his apology for a nose as an aid to memory. Then his face brightened and he said: “It was near on half-past seven when I got to the public, sir, and that’s just five minutes from where I stands at the top of the Gardens.”

“About twenty-five minutes past seven, then?”

“Just about, sir.”

The coroner shuffled his papers, and glanced at Mallett. Mallett pursed his lips and nodded.

“Thank you,” he said to Roach.

“Thank you, sir, and good morning,” answered the newspaper seller cheerfully and stumped away.

“That is as far as we shall be able to go today, members of the jury,” announced the coroner. “You will be informed if your presence is required again.”

He rose and without further ceremony left the court. The crowd trickled slowly out, feeling elated that they had been present at an important function, but with the vague sense of disappointment that an anti-climax produces. As the last of them left the building, a plain clothes detective pushed his way in and came up to the inspector.

“The man Crabtree has been found, sir,” he said. “He is at the Yard now. I left instructions that no statement should be taken from him until you came.”

“Quite right,” answered Mallett. His thoughts for a moment turned longingly towards his lunch. But he suppressed the temptation. “I’ll come at once,” he said firmly.

10
THE TRAIL OF MR. JAMES

Wednesday, November 18th

On his arrival at Scotland Yard, Mallett went at once to his room. He was met there by a young officer, recently promoted, who had been assigned to him for assistance in the case, Detective-Sergeant Frant. He was a spare little man, full of dash, and supremely confident in his own abilities.