An Amiable CharlatanOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
An Amiable Charlatan
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories
Mr. Bundercombe greeted me heartily and at once directed my attention to a
small tent where cool drinks were being served. I suffered him to lead me
in that direction and placed myself in his hands as regards the selection
of a suitable beverage. We found a small table and sat down. "Haven't seen
much of you lately, sir," I began.
"Huh! That's because I don't spend three parts of my time in milliners'
shops," Mr. Bundercombe replied.
"Where are you spending most of your time?" I asked, determined to take
the bull by the horns.
Mr. Bundercombe set down his glass.
"I've been expecting this," he remarked pleasantly. "Eve's been setting
you on to pump me, eh?"
I nodded.
"That's exactly it," I admitted. "We are due to be married in ten days. We
are neither of us anxious for anything in the way of an unfortunate
incident."
Mr. Bundercombe appeared to view with surprise the advent of a second
tumbler. He reconciled himself to its arrival, however, and handed money
to the attendant.
"I realize the position entirely, my dear fellow," he assured me. "I am
glad you have opened the subject up. I have been bursting to tell you all
about it; but I have hesitated for fear of being misunderstood."
I glanced at his nails.
"Of course," I observed slowly, "the position of an elderly gentleman with
a marriageable daughter and a wife," I went on bravely, "who finances a
young lady interested in manicuring in an establishment in Bond Street is
liable to misinterpretation."
Mr. Bundercombe was a little taken aback. He hid his face for a moment
behind the newly arrived tumbler.
"Kind of observant, aren't you?" he remarked.
"I saw you in Bond Street this morning," I told him, "you and a paper
parcel. You were entering the establishment, I believe, of Mademoiselle
Blanche, whoever she is."
"Small place, London!" Mr. Bundercombe sighed. "Were you--er--alone?"
"I was with Eve," I replied; "but she did not see you and I did not
mention the matter."
"My boy," Mr. Bundercombe decided, "I shall take you wholly into my
confidence. I am engaged in a big affair!" My heart sank.
"I can only pray to Heaven," I said fervently, "that the denouement of
this affair will not take place within the next ten days."
"On the contrary," Mr. Bundercombe answered, leaning back in his chair and
looking at me, with the flat of one hand laid on the table and the palm of
the other on his left knee, "on the contrary," he repeated, "the
denouement is due to-morrow."
"Glad you didn't consider us," I observed gloomily.
Mr. Bundercombe smiled.
"I find myself in this last affair," he remarked airily, "occupying what I
must confess, for me, is a somewhat peculiar position. I am on the side of
the established authorities. I am in the cast-iron position of the man who
falls into line with the law of the land. In other words, you behold in
me, so far as regards this affair, respectability and rectitude
personified. I may even choose to give our friend Mr. Cullen a leg up."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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