P.-C. Lee: Complete Series (ALL 24 Detective Stories in One Volume). Edgar Wallace

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      For P.C. Lee lives in the heart of Notting Dale, in a tiny house near Arbuckle Street. and sometimes, when he’s off duty, and when there is a slack time in his arbitration court, he comes to me to smoke a pipe and talk shop.

      “Crime,” reflected P.C. Lee, “ain’t always murder, nor highway robbery, nor forgin’ cheques for £10,000. That’s the crimes authors — present company excepted — write about. It’s generally a tale about how a detective with whiskers fails to discover the lost diamonds, an’ a clean. shaven feller, who plays the fiddle, works it out on paper that the true robber was the Archbishop of Canterbury, But crime, as we know it in the ‘D’ Division, is mostly made up of ‘bein’ a suspected person’ or ‘loiterin’ with intent’ or ‘being found on unoccupied premises for the purpose of committin’ a felony’; or, as you have seen yourself,, ‘drunk an’ usin’ abusive language’.

      “I’ve done all kinds of duty, plain clothes an’ otherwise, an’ although I’ve had my share of big cases, an’ have been to the Old Bailey scores an’ scores of times, the gen’ral run of life has been takin’ violent an’ insultin’ ‘drunks’ to the station, an’ pullin’ people in for petty larceny.

      “One of the most extraordinary chaps I’ve had to deal with was a man by the name of Simmons. He moves into 64, Highfield Street, an’ I got a tip from headquarters to look after him. A quiet little man, who smoked a briar pipe, an’ went about his work sayin’ nothing to anybody.

      “He was a bachelor so far as I could find out, an’ there was an old woman, who was his aunt, who kept house for him.

      “The rum thing was that he didn’t associate with any of the ‘heads’.

      “There was a nice lot of lads in my district. Nick Moss who did seven years for armed burglary; Teddy Gail, who did five for runnin’ a snide factory*; Arthur Westing, the tale-pitcher — Lord! I could fill a book with their names.

      >[* A counterfeit coin manufactory.]

      “Somehow, they knew he was in a queer line of business, an’ naturally they tried to be friendly with him — but he had nothin’ to do with them, an’ that made ’em wild. They tried to find out what his lay was, but he was as close as an oyster. They came to me, some of ‘em, an’ worked the conversation round innocently to Simmons.

      “Nick Moss was the most curious.

      “‘That’s a queer chap in 64, Mr. Lee,’ he says. ‘Can’t make him out.’

      “‘Can’t you?’ says I.

      “‘No,’ says Nick, shakin’ his head. ‘Do you think he’s quite straight, Mr. Lee?’

      “‘I hope so,’ says I. ‘It’d be a dreadful thing if a dishonest feller came into this pure an’ innercent neighbourhood corruptin’ the morals of its upright citizens.’

      “‘It would,’ says Nick.

      “To tell you the truth, I had no more idea of what Simmons’ game was than they had. My instructions were worded rather curiously. ‘Watch Simmons, but don’t interfere with him.’

      “I thought once that he must be a nark*, but the station Inspector told me he wasn’t on the books, an’ none of our C.I.D. men knew him. All I knew about him was that from time to time he used to go away for two or three days at a time carryin’ his little brown bag an’ smokin’ his pipe. My mate, who’s an energetic young chap, stopped him one night when he was coming home an’ asked to see inside of his bag.

      [* Police spy.]

      “But there was nothin’ except a paper of sandwiches an’ a couple of short luggage straps. The sandwiches was wrapped up in a paper that bore the name of a Chelmsford confectioners, an’ we watched for the Chelmsford report to see if there had been a burglary — but nothin’ appeared. I ‘don’t know whether Simmons reported the matter; so far as we knew at the station he didn’t, but a few days afterwards my mate was transferred to ‘R’ Division, and got a nasty letter from the Yard tellin’ him not to exceed his duty.

      “One night, soon after this, I was standin’ on duty at the corner of Ladbroke Grove, when a woman came to me sobbin’.

      “I recognised her at once. She was the wife of Crawley Hopper, a chap well known to the police as a ladder larcernist.*

      [* A “ladder larceny” is a definite form of housebreaking. Whilst a family is at dinner a ladder is placed against a bedroom window, the thief enters and clears the bedroom of portable valuables.]

      “‘Mr. Lee,’ she sobs, ‘look at my eye…!’

      “‘I wouldn’t mind the beatin’,’ she says, ‘but he’s took up with another girl.’

      “‘Go home to your mother, Mrs. Hopper,’ I says, ‘He’s in drink an’ he’ll be sorry in the morning.’

      “‘He’ll he sorry tonight,’ she says savagely, ‘because he was the man that did the Highbury job last Wednesday.’

      “‘Oh!’ I says — we’d been on the lookout for the man who did the Highbury job—’in that case I’ll ask you for a few particulars.’

      “The end of it was, I found Crawley in a little pub standin’ drinks all round. He had his arm round the neck of his new girl an’ I beckoned him outside.

      “‘I want you, Hopper,’ I says.

      “‘What for?’ says Hopper, as white as a sheet.

      “‘The Highbury job. Come along quietly to the station.’

      “‘It’s a fair cop,’ says Hopper, an’ went like a lamb.

      “‘Who gave me away?’ he says.

      “‘Information received,’ I answered.

      “He nodded his head.

      “‘I think I know the lady’s name,’ he says, ‘an’ when I come out she’ll know mine,’ he says.

      Crawley had lots of pals, an’ as soon as they found e’d been pinched, they had a whip round to get the money together for a mouthpiece (as they call a lawyer), an’ naturally they went to Simmons.

      “From all accounts, Nick Moss an’ a feller named Peter called on him one night.

      “‘We are making a collection, Mr. Simmons,’ says Nick, ‘for a friend of ours that got into a bit of trouble.’

      “‘What kind of trouble?’ says the little man.

      “He stood in the doorway in his shirtsleeves smokin’ his pipe most furious.

      “‘To tell you the truth,’ says Nick frankly, ‘he’s been pinched.’

      “‘By the police?’ says Simmons.

      “‘By the police,’ says Nick.

      “Simmons shook his head.

      “‘It’s СКАЧАТЬ