Chapter 42: The Quarry Doubles

I turned towards the booking-office on the main departure platform. As I went, the chief platform inspector, George Bellingham, with whom I had some acquaintance, came out of his office. I stopped him.

‘Mr Bellingham, will you be so good as to step with me to the booking-office, and instruct the clerk in charge to answer one or two questions which I wish to put to him. I will explain to you afterwards what is their exact import, but you know me sufficiently to be able to believe me when I say that they refer to a matter in which every moment is of the first importance.’

He turned and accompanied us into the interior of the booking-case.

‘To which of the clerks, Mr Champnell, do you wish to put your questions?’

‘To the one who issues third-class tickets to Southampton.’

Bellingham beckoned to a man who was counting a heap of money, and apparently seeking to make it tally with the entries in a huge ledger which lay open before him, —he was a short, slightly-built young fellow, with a pleasant face and smiling eyes.

‘Mr Stone, this gentleman wishes to ask you one or two questions.’

‘I am at his service.’

I put my questions.

‘I want to know, Mr Stone, if, in the course of the day, you have issued any tickets to a person dressed in Arab costume?’

His reply was prompt.

‘I have—by the last train, the 7.25, —three singles.’

Three singles! Then my instinct had told me rightly.

‘Can you describe the person?’

Mr Stone’s eyes twinkled.

‘I don’t know that I can, except in a general way, —he was uncommonly old and uncommonly ugly, and he had a pair of the most extraordinary eyes I ever saw, —they gave me a sort of all-overish feeling when I saw them glaring at me through the pigeon hole. But I can tell you one thing about him, he had a great bundle on his head, which he steadied with one hand, and as it bulged out in all directions its presence didn’t make him popular with other people who wanted tickets too.’

Undoubtedly this was our man.

‘You are sure he asked for three tickets?’

‘Certain. He said three tickets to Southampton; laid down the exact fare, —nineteen and six—and held up three fingers—like that. Three nasty looking fingers they were, with nails as long as talons.’

‘You didn’t see who were his companions?’

‘I didn’t, —I didn’t try to look. I gave him his tickets and off he went, —with the people grumbling at him because that bundle of his kept getting in their way.’

Bellingham touched me on the arm.

‘I can tell you about the Arab of whom Mr Stone speaks. My attention was called to him by his insisting on taking his bundle with him into the carriage, —it was an enormous thing, he could hardly squeeze it through the door; it occupied the entire seat. But as there weren’t as many passengers as usual, and he wouldn’t or couldn’t be made to understand that his precious bundle would be safe in the luggage van along with the rest of the luggage, and as he wasn’t the sort of person you could argue with to any advantage, I had him put into an empty compartment, bundle and all.’