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Page 25
"He is faster on his feet than any boy I ever handled," the
expert had declared. "He hasn't got the weight behind it yet, of
course, but he's developing a left that's going to make history.
I'm of opinion that there isn't a boy in the seniors can take him
on, and I'll say that he's a credit to you."
Those words had fallen more sweetly upon the ears of Chief
Inspector Kerry than any encomium of the boy's learning could
have done. On the purely scholastic side his report was not a
good one, admittedly. "But," murmured Kerry aloud, "he's going
to be a man."
He remembered that he had promised, despite the lateness of the
hour, to telephone the lad directly he had received a certain
report, and to tell him whether he might wait up for his return
or whether he must turn in. Kerry, stamping his small, neatly
shod feet upon the pavement, smiled agreeably. He was thinking
of the telephone which recently he had had installed in his house
in Brixton. His wife had demanded this as a Christmas box,
pointing out how many uneasy hours she would be spared by the
installation. Kerry had consented cheerfully enough, for was he
not shortly to be promoted to the exalted post of a
superintendent of the Criminal Investigation Department?
These reflections were cheering and warming; and, waiting until a
gap occurred in the stream of cabs and cars, he crossed
Piccadilly and proceeded along Bond Street, swinging his
shoulders in a manner which would have enabled any constable in
the force to recognize "Red Kerry" at a hundred yards.
The fierce eyes scrutinized the occupants of all the lighted
cars. At pedestrians also he stared curiously, and at another
smaller group of travellers waiting for the buses on the left-
hand side of the street he looked hard and long. He pursued his
way, acknowledged the salutation of a porter who stood outside
the entrance to the Embassy Club, and proceeded, glancing about
him right and left and with some evident and definite purpose.
A constable standing at the corner of Conduit Street touched his
helmet as Kerry passed and the light of an arc-lamp revealed the
fierce red face. The Chief Inspector stopped, turned, and:
"What the devil's the idea?" he demanded.
He snapped out the words in such fashion that the unfortunate
constable almost believed he could see sparks in the misty air.
"I'm sorry, sir, but recognizing you suddenly like, I----"
"You did?" the fierce voice interrupted. "How long in the
force?"
"Six months, sir."
"Never salute an officer in plain clothes."
"I know, sir."
"Then why did you do it?"
"I told you, sir."
"Then tell me again."
"I forgot."
"You're paid to remember; bear it in mind."
Kerry tucked his malacca under his arm and walked on, leaving the
unfortunate policeman literally stupefied by his first encounter
with the celebrated Chief Inspector.
Presently another line of cars proclaimed the entrance to a club,
and just before reaching the first of these Kerry paused. A man
stood in a shadowy doorway, and:
"Good evening, Chief Inspector," he said quietly.
"Good evening, Durham. Anything to report?"
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