“He was very good to the poor, too; gave ’em dinner an’ coal an’ started a soup kitchen down Latimer Road way — in fact people got to look on him as a rich man, an’ Nick Moss an’ a pal of his named ‘Copper’ went down to Kensington Road an’ had a look at the house. Nick told me afterwards there was twenty ways of gettin’ into it.
There was a kitchen window without bars, an’ a conservatory, an’ a billiard room — in fact, it was the easiest crib he’d ever seen.
“So, accordingly, Nick an’ his pal took their swag — nice little centre-bits an’ glass cuttin’ machines, an’ drills — an’ as we say in court ‘effected an entrance’. I happened to be strolling up Kensington Park Road at about 2 a.m. smokin’ a pipe, contrary to all regulations, when passin’ Albert’s house I tried the front gate. It was fastened all right, but as I stepped up to it I trod on something soft. I stooped down an’ picked it up. It was a thin cotton glove — a new one what had never been worn.
“Now I know that all up-to-date burglars carry cotton gloves because of the fear of leavin’ finger prints, an’ a policeman’s mind being naturally a suspicious one, I nipped over the low gate an’ walked quietly up to the house. I’d got my rubber heels on an’ made no noise. I put the light of the lantern over the front door. It was not marked, so I walked round to the servants’ entrance. There was no sign of chisel marks, then I put up my hand to the little window that opens from the pantry. ‘Opens is a good word, for wide open it was.
“Very quietly I got back into the street again. I knew I should find P.C. Sampson at the corner of Kensington Park Square. He came to the ‘point’ to time an’ I called him quietly, an’ together we walked back to the house.
“To cut a long story short we took Nick Moss as he came out of the servants’ entrance, an’ a few minutes afterwards we took his pal. I put the irons on Nick, because he was a dangerous character. Then I left Sampson to guard the two whilst I knocked up Mr. Walker. At the second knock up went a window an’ out came his head.
“Hullo,’ says he, quietly. ‘what do you want?’
“‘Will you come down here for a moment?’ says I.
“‘What do you want?’ he asked again, so in as few words as possible I told him that his house had been broken into, an’ that we had caught the man. He came down, an’ opened the door cautiously. To my surprise he had a revolver in his hand — not an ordinary revolver, but one of these automatic pistols that you sometimes find in the possession of foreign anarchists.
“‘Come in,’ says he, so me an’ Sampson an’ the two prisoners went in, an’ he switched on the light of the dinin’ room.
“It seemed to me that when they met face to face — the man who had been robbed an’ the burglars — there a curious, eager look on Mr. Walker’s face, an’ a sort triumphant smile on the other’s.
Copper, his pal, was an ordinary type of lag, an’ scowled from one to the other of us.
“‘I shall want you to come to the station,’ I says. ‘an’ charge these men.’.
“‘What for?’ says Mr. Walker coolly.
“‘Burglary,’ I says.
“‘There’s some mistake,’ he says, easily. ‘I discovered late last night that I’d lost the key of my safe. It would take days to get the safe opened, so knowing our friend here’ — he waved his hands to Nick—’is by way of being a — er — professional, I sent for him.’
“‘What’s his name?’ I says quickly.
“But Nick Moss was as quick as lighnin’.
“‘Nick Moss is my name,’ he says, pretending the question was addressed to him, an’ Walker took the cue.
“‘Moss, of course,’ he says, ‘everybody knows Nick Moss.’
“Between the two of ’em they were giving each other all the information they desired, an’ I was sorely puzzled to know what to do.
“I didn’t believe the story, but that was nothing to do with the case. Suppose I arrested the two men. A pretty figure I should cut in court when the man who was supposed to have been burgled stood up in the witness box an’ swore that the burglars were friends of his. An’ mind you, it’s no uncommon thing for a merchant to seek out an ex-burglar to open a safe when the combination word has gone wrong, or the keys have been lost. So I was very reluctantly compelled to take the handcuffs off Nick — it was a fishy business, but it wasn’t my business.
“As me an’ my mate turned to go, Albert says: ‘One moment, Constable Lee,’ an’ took me aside.
“‘I hope you won’t report this matter,’ he says, an’ he slipped a banknote into my hand.
“‘Thank you,’ I says, an’ handed it back again. ‘I’ve done nothing that deserves payment; as to reportin’ the matter, you may be sure I shall report it. If I didn’t my mate would, an’ he’s no more to be squared than I am.’
“With that I bid him good night an’ left him sitting there, in his dressin’ gown, talking affably an’ friendly to the two lags.
“When we got outside I looks at Sampson, an’ he looks at me.
“‘Well,’ says he, ‘they’re a bit peas-in-the-pot.’
“‘Meanin’ O.T. hot?’ I says. ‘What do you make it?’
“‘Blessed if I know,’ says Sampson, who’s not what I might call a rapid thinker.
Anyway, I reported the matter to the Station Inspector, an’ he sent one of our smart young men down to make inquiries, but he learnt no more than I had.
“Then I had a little private inquiry on my own. I run across Copper an’ put a few questions to him. He was close, of course, an’ backed up the lie to the best of his ability. All I could get out of him was that after I’d left Walker an’ Nick went into a private room an’ had a bit a talk. He didn’t know what they said, for Nick was an oyster in the way of givin’ information.
“‘So you called at the house by invitation, eh?’ I says.
“‘Yes,’ says Copper.
“‘Then,’ I says, ‘what did you mean by sayin’ when I arrested you “This is a laggin’ stakes”?’
‘Did I?’ he says uneasily.
“‘You did,’ I says. ‘Now, Copper, I don’t care what yarn you spin: you an’ Nick went to that house to crack it, an’ nobody was more surprised than you when the owner spoke up for you.’
“He made no reply.
“‘One of these days,’ I says. ‘you’ll be sorry you was in this business,’ and with that I left him.
“Soon after I saw Nick Moss. Got up to the nines, he was, with a brand new suit an’ a diamond ring, an’ his hat on the side of his head. Yaller gloves an’ patent boots an’ a pearl scarf-pin in his necktie.
“‘What ho, Lee,’ he says insolently. ‘How’s the laggin’ business?’
“‘About the same as usual, Nick,’ I says; ‘lots of crooks inside the bars, but a dashed sight more walkin’ out in shiny boots an’ dog-poisoner gloves.’
“‘You be careful,’ he says, ‘or I’ll report you to your superiors.’
“‘An’ you be careful,’ I says, ‘or I’ll come down on you one of these fine evenin’s when I’m off duty an’ wipe that smile off your dial.’
“He laughed. ‘Any time you are passin’ my house come in an’ have a glass of beer,’ he says patronisingly.
“Just