Evidently it had taken some time for Lester Bitton to persuade Mrs Larkin that it would be advisable to talk. Bitton was pacing the front room, looking flushed and dangerous. Mrs Larkin was holding back the: curtain of the front window and peering out with extreme nonchalance.' When she saw Hadley she examined him coldly.
`You tecs,' she said, her upper lip wrinkling; `pretty damn smart, ain't you? I told his nibs here you'd got nothing on his wife. He should have sat tight, and let you go ahead, and then we could both have got a sweet piece of change out of you for false arrest. But no. He had to get scared and spill the beans.'
Hadley opened his brief-case again. This time he was not bluffing; the printed form he opened carried two decidedly unflattering snapshots.
"Amanda Georgette Larkin",' he read. "`Alias Amanda Leeds, Alias Georgie Simpson. Known as 'Emmy' Shoplifting. Speciality, jewellery, large department stores. Last heard of in New York …
'You needn't go through all that,' interrupted Emmy. `There's nothing on me now. I told you that this afternoon. But, go on and get his nibs to tell you what agency I work for. Then you'll tell them, and, bingo! I'm through.'
Hadley folded up the paper and replaced it. `If' you give us a clear statement, I don't think I need warn your employers about Georgie Simpson.'
She put her hands on her hips and studied him.
`All right. Here she goes.'
Mrs Larkin's manner underwent a subtle change. That afternoon she had seemed all tight corsets and severe tailoring, like an especially forbidding schoolmistress. Now the stiffness disappeared into an easier slouch and she dropped into a chair.
`What we want to know is everything you did to-day, Mrs Larkin,' Hadley told her.
`Well, in my profession a man we always look for is the postman. I was up early, ready for him. He always puts the letters in the box of Number 1, my place, first, and then goes across the way. I can time it so that I'm picking up the milk bottle outside my door when he gets out the mail for Number 2. And that was easy. Because X19 — that's the way we have to describe people in the confidential reports — X19 always wrote her letters on a sort of pink-purplish kind of paper you could see a mile off.'
`How did you know,' inquired Hadley, `that the letters were from X19?'
She looked at him. `Don't be funny,' said Mrs,Larkin, coldly. `It's not healthy, for a respectable widow to get into people's flats with a duplicate key. And it's a damn sight less healthy to be found steaming open people's letters. Let's say I overheard them talking about the first letter she wrote him.
`All right. I'd been warned X19 was coming back to London Sunday night, and so I had my eyes open this morning. I was kind of surprised when I went out to pick up my milk bottle and found Driscoll picking up his milk bottle just over the way. He never gets up before noon. He had his door open, and I could see the inside of the letter-box.
`He stuck his hand in the letter-box, pulled out the pink letter, and sort of grunted, and put it in his pocket without opening it. Then he saw me, and let the door slam.
'So I thought, "What ho!" And I knew there was going to be a meeting somewhere. But I wasn't to watch him. I'd only been planted opposite so I could catch X19 with the goods.'
`You have been a long time in doing it,' said Hadley.
She made a comfortable gesture. `No use finishin' off a good assignment too quick…. But all the times she's been there I never saw anything. The best chance I had was the night before she went away, about two weeks ago. They come in from the theatre or some place, and they was both pretty tight. I watched the door, and everything was all quiet for about two hours, so I knew what was up. Then, the door opened, and they both come out again for him to take her home. And they stood there swearing eternal love to each other and he was saying how he was going to do a piece of work that would get him a good newspaper job, and then they could get married..
`But I wasn't certain,' explained they practical Mrs Larkin, kin, `because that's what they all say when they're drunk. And besides, I heard him telling the same thing to a little red-head he had here while X19 was away. But that night, of course, I wasn't on duty. I was just getting home myself, and he came staggering down the steps with his arm around the red-head, and she was trying to hold him up… '
`Stop it!' Lester Bitton suddenly shouted. `You didn't,' he said heavily — `you didn't put into your report you didn't say this'
`Time enough. But I am off the subject, ain't I?' said Mrs Larkin. She straightened the puffs of hair over her ears. `Don't take it so hard, mister. They're all like that, mostly. I didn't mean to give you the works.
`I'll go on about to-day. Oh yes; I know where I was. Well, I got dressed and went up to Berkeley Square. It's a good thing I did, because she come out of the house fairly early. And believe it or not, that woman walked all the way from her place to the Tower of London!
`Well, I seen her buying tickets for all them towers, and I had to buy 'em all, too, because I didn't know where she'd, go. But I thought, this is a hell of a place to pick for rendy-voo, and then I tumbled to it. She was wise to being watched. I thought probably that trip to the country tipped her off, and her husband had maybe said something to let her guess….'
`They had never gone there together before?' interrupted Hadley.
`Not while I was watching them'
She was more subdued now when she spoke, and she told her story without comment. It was ten-minutes past one when Laura Bitton arrived. After buying her tickets and a little guide, she, had gone into the refreshment-room and ordered a sandwich and a glass of milk. All the time she ate she watched the clock with every sign of nervousness and impatience. `And, what's more,' Mrs Larkin explained, 'she wasn't carrying that arrow-thing you had on your desk this afternoon.'
At twenty minutes past one Laura: Bitton left the refreshment-room and hurried away. At the Middle Tower she hesitated, looked about, and presently moved along the causeway, and hesitated again at the Byward Tower. There she consulted the map in her guide-book and looked carefully about her.
`I could see what was in her mind, Mrs Larkin told them. `She didn't want to hang around the door, like a tart or something; but she wanted to be sure she saw him when he got there. But it was dead easy — Anybody who came in would've had to walk straight along that road — up towards the Traitors' Gate place and the Bloody Tower. So she walked along the road, slow, looking all around. Then when she got near the Traitors' Gate place she turned to the right and stopped again….'
So that, Rampole reflected was what Philip Driscoll saw when he kept looking out of the window in the general's quarters, as Parker had described. He saw the, woman waiting for him down in Water Lane. And soon afterwards he said he would take a stroll in the grounds, and hurried out.
`She'd moved back,' Mrs Larkin went on, `in a doorway on the right-hand side of the Traitors' Gate. I'd flattened myself against the same wall, a little distance back. Then I saw a little guy in plus-fours come out from under; the arch of the Bloody, Tower. He didn't see er — X19 because she was back in the door; I thought it was Driscoll, but I wasn't sure. Neither was she, I guess, for a minute, because she'd expected him to come the other way. Then he starts to walk back and forth, and next he goes over to the rail. I heard him use a cuss-word, and there was a sound like a match striking.
`Now, here's the joker in the deck. I don't know whether you noticed. But that archway thing„where all them spikes in the gate are, sticks out about seven or eight feet on either side of the rail. If you're in that roadway, and looking down it in a straight line, you can't see the rail in front of the steps at all. For the time being it was fine for me, because I could get within a couple of feet of them without being seen.