The Seven Dials mystery
you'd understand."
"You see," explained Bundle, "three of us forcing our way in might look
rather suspicious. And you would be particularly difficult. You do see
that, don't you?"
"Oh! yes," said Loraine.
"Then it's settled--you do nothing," said Jimmy.
"I do nothing," said Loraine meekly.
Bundle looked at her in sudden suspicion. The tameness with which
Loraine was taking it seemed hardly natural. Loraine looked at her. Her
eyes were blue and guileless. They met Bundle's without a quiver even
of the lashes. Bundle was only partly satisfied. She found the meekness
of Loraine Wade highly suspicious.
CHAPTER X
BUNDLE VISITS SCOTLAND YARD
Now it may be said at once that in the foregoing conversation each one
of the three participants had, as it were, held something in reserve.
That "Nobody tells everything" is a very true motto.
It may be questioned, for instance, if Loraine Wade was perfectly
sincere in her account of the motives which had led her to seek out
Jimmy Thesiger.
In the same way, Jimmy Thesiger himself had various ideas and plans
connected with the forthcoming party at George Lomax's which he had no
intention of revealing to--say, Bundle.
And Bundle herself had a fully-fledged plan which she proposed to put
into immediate execution and which she had said nothing whatever about.
On leaving Jimmy Thesiger's rooms, she drove to Scotland Yard, where
she asked to see Superintendent Battle.
Superintendent Battle was rather a big man. He worked almost entirely
on cases of a delicate political nature. On such a case he had come
to Chimneys four years ago, and Bundle was frankly trading on his
remembering this fact.
After a short delay, she was taken along several corridors and into
the Superintendent's private room. Battle was a stolid-looking man
with a wooden face. He looked supremely unintelligent and more like a
commissionaire than a detective.
He was standing by the window when she entered, gazing in an
expressionless manner at some sparrows.
"Good-afternoon, Lady Eileen," he said. "Sit down, won't you?"
"Thank you," said Bundle. "I was afraid you mightn't remember me."
"Always remember people," said Battle. He added: "Got to in my job."
"Oh!" said Bundle, rather damped.
"And what can I do for you?" inquired the Superintendent.
Bundle came straight to the point.
"I've always heard that you people at Scotland Yard have lists of all
secret societies and things like that that are formed in London."
"We try to keep up to date," said Superintendent Battle cautiously.
"I suppose a great many of them aren't really dangerous."
"We've got a very good rule to go by," said Battle. "The more they
talk, the less they'll do. You'd be surprised how well that works out."
"And I've heard that very often you let them go on?"
Battle nodded.
"That's so. Why shouldn't a man call himself a Brother of Liberty and
meet twice a week in a cellar and talk about rivers of blood--it won't
hurt either him or us. And if there is trouble any time, we know where
to lay our hands on him."
"But sometimes, I suppose," said Bundle slowly, "a society may be more
dangerous than anyone imagines?"
"Very unlikely," said Battle.
"But it _might_ happen," persisted Bundle.
"Oh! it _might_," admitted the Superintendent.
There was a moment or two's silence. Then Bundle said quietly.
"Superintendent Battle, could you give me a list of secret societies
that have their headquarters in Seven Dials?"
It was Superintendent Battle's boast that he had never been seen to
display emotion. But Bundle could have sworn that just for a moment
his eyelids flickered and he looked taken aback. Only for a moment,
however. He was his usual wooden self as he said:
"Strictly speaking, Lady Eileen, there's no such place as Seven Dials
nowadays."
"No?"
"No. Most of it is pulled down and rebuilt. It was rather a low quarter
once, but it's very respectable and high class nowadays. Not at all a
romantic spot to poke about in for mysterious secret societies."
"Oh!" said Bundle, rather nonplussed.
"But all the same I should very much like to know what put that
neighborhood into your head, Lady Eileen?"
"Have I got to tell you?"
"Well, it saves trouble, doesn't it? We know where we are, so to speak?"
Bundle hesitated for a minute.
"There was a man shot yesterday," she said slowly. "I thought I had run
over him--"
"Mr. Ronald Devereux?"
"You know about it, of course. Why has there been nothing in the
papers?"
"Do you really want to know that, Lady Eileen?"
"Yes, please."
"Well, we just thought we should like to have a clear twenty-four
hours--see? It will be in the papers to-morrow."
"Oh!" Bundle studied him, puzzled.
What was hidden behind that immovable face. Did he regard the shooting
of Ronald Devereux as an ordinary crime or as an extraordinary one.
"He mentioned Seven Dials when he was dying," said Bundle slowly.
"Thank you," said Battle. "I'll make a note of that."
He wrote a few words on the blotting pad in front of him.
Bundle started on another tack.
"Mr. Lomax, I understand, came to see you yesterday about a threatening
letter he had had."
"He did."
"And that was written from Seven Dials?"
"It had Seven Dials written at the top of it, I believe."
Bundle felt as though she was battering hopelessly on a locked door.
"If you'll let me advise you, Lady Eileen--"'
"I know what you're going to say."
"I should go home and--well, think no more about these matters."
"Leave it to you, in fact?"
"Well," said Superintendent Battle, "after all, we _are_ the
professionals."
"And I'm only an amateur? Yes, but you forget one thing--I mayn't have
your knowledge and skill--but I have one advantage over you. I can work
in the dark."
She thought that the Superintendent seemed a little taken aback, as
though the force of her words struck home.
"Of course," said Bundle, "if you won't give me a list of secret
societies--"
"Oh! I never said that. You shall have a list of the whole lot."
He went to the door, put his head through and called out something,
then came back to his chair. Bundle, rather unreasonably, felt baffled.
The ease with which he acceded to her request seemed to her suspicious.
He was looking at her now in a placid fashion.
"Do you remember the death of Mr. Gerald Wade?" she asked abruptly.
"Down at your place, wasn't it? Took an overdraught of sleeping
mixture."
"His sister says he never took things to make him sleep."
"Ah!" said the Superintendent. "You'd be surprised what a lot of things
there are that sisters don't know."
Bundle again felt baffled. She sat in silence till a man came in with a
typewritten sheet of paper, which he handed to the Superintendent.
"Here you are," said the latter when the other had left the room. "The
Blood Brothers of St. Sebastian. The Wolf Hounds. The Comrades of
Peace. The Comrades Club. The Friends of Oppression. The Children of
Moscow. The Red Standard Bearers. The Herrings. The Comrades of the
Fallen--and half a dozen more."
He handed it to her with a distinct twinkle in his eye.
"You give it to me," said Bundle, "because you know it's not going to
be the slightest use to me. Do you want me to leave the whole thing
alone?"
"I should prefer it," said Battle. "You see--if you go messing round
all these places--well, it's going to give us a lot of trouble."
"Looking after me, you mean?"
"Looking after you, Lady Eileen."
Bundle had risen to her feet. Now she stood undecided. So far the
honours lay with Superintendent Battle. Then she remembered one slight
incident, and she based a last appeal upon it.
"I said just now that an amateur could do some things which a
professional couldn't. You didn't contradict me. That's because you're
an honest man, Superintendent Battle. You knew I was right."
"Go on," said Battle quietly.
"At Chimneys you let me help. Won't you let me help now?"
Battle seemed to be turning the thing over in his mind. Emboldened by
his silence, Bundle continued.
"You know pretty well what I'm like, Superintendent Battle. I butt into
things. I'm a Nosey Parker. I don't want to get in your way or to try
and do things that you're doing and can do a great deal better. But if
there's a chance for an amateur, let me have it."
Again there was a pause, and then Superintendent Battle said quietly:
"You couldn't have spoken fairer than you have done, Lady Eileen. But
I'm just going to say this to you. What you propose is dangerous. And
when I say dangerous, I _mean_ dangerous."
"I've grasped that," said Bundle. "I'm not a fool."
"No," said Superintendent Battle. "Never knew a young lady who was less
so. What I'll do for you, Lady Eileen, is this. I'll just give you one
little hint. And I'm doing it because I never have thought much of the
motto 'Safety First.' In my opinion half the people who spend their
lives avoiding being run over by buses had much better be run over and
put safely out of the way. They're no good."
This remarkable utterance issuing from the conventional lips of
Superintendent Battle quite took Bundle's breath away.
"What was the hint you were going to give me," she asked at last.
"You know Mr. Eversleigh, don't you?"
"Know Bill? Why, of course. But what--"
"I think Mr. Bill Eversleigh will be able to tell you all you want to
know about Seven Dials."
"Bill knows about it? _Bill?_"
"I didn't say that. Not at all. But I think, being a quick-witted young
lady, you'll get what you want from him.
"And now," said Superintendent Battle firmly, "I'm not going to say
another word."
CHAPTER XI
DINNER WITH BILL
Bundle set out to keep her appointment with Bill on the following
evening full of expectation.
Bill greeted her with every sign of elation.
"Bill really _is_ rather nice," thought Bundle to herself. "Just like a
large, clumsy dog that wags its tail when it's pleased to see you."
The large dog was uttering short staccato yelps of comment and
information.
"You look tremendously fit, Bundle. I can't tell you how pleased I am
to see you. I've ordered oysters--you do like oysters, don't you? And
how's everything? What did you want to go mouldering about abroad so
long? Were you having a very gay time?"
"No, deadly," said Bundle. "Perfectly foul. Old diseased colonels
creeping about in the sun, and active, wizened spinsters running
libraries and churches."
"Give me England," said Bill. "I bar this foreign business--except
Switzerland. Switzerland's all right. I'm thinking of going this
Christmas. Why don't you come along?"
"I'll think of it," said Bundle. "What have you been doing with
yourself lately, Bill?"
It was an incautious query. Bundle had merely made it out of politeness
and as a preliminary to introducing her own topics of conversation. It
was, however, the opening for which Bill had been waiting.
"That's just what I've been wanting to tell you about. You're brainy,
Bundle, and I want your advice. You know that musical show, 'Damn Your
Eyes'?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm going to tell you about one of the dirtiest pieces of work
imaginable. My God! the theatrical crowd. There's a girl--a Yankee
girl--a perfect stunner--"
Bundle's heart sank. The grievances of Bill's lady friends were always
interminable--they went on and on and there was no stemming them.
"This girl, Babe St. Maur her name is--"
"I wonder how she got that name?" said Bundle sarcastically.
Bill replied literally.
"She got it out of _Who's Who_. Opened it and jabbed her finger down on
a page without looking. Pretty nifty, eh? Her real name's Goldschmidt