The Illustrious PrinceOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
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The Illustrious Prince
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories; Princes -- Fiction
“I do not think, either,” the detective continued, “that at my time
of life I should care to go so far from home to settle down in an
altogether strange country.”
“It must be as you will, of course,” the Prince declared. “Only
remember, Mr. Jacks, that a great nation like mine which wants a
particular man for a particular purpose is not afraid to pay for him.
Your work out there would certainly take you no more than three years.
For that three years’ work you would receive the sum of thirty thousand
pounds.”
The detective gasped.
“It is a great sum,” he said.
The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
“You could hardly call it that,” he said. “Still, it would enable you to
live in comfort for the rest of your life.”
“And when should I be required to start, sir?” the Inspector asked.
“That, perhaps,” the Prince replied, “would seem the hardest part of
all. You would be required to start tomorrow afternoon from Southampton
at four o’clock.”
The Inspector started. Then a new light dawned suddenly in his face.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” he murmured.
The Prince assented.
“So far as regards your position at Scotland Yard,” he said, “I have
influential friends in your Government who will put that right for
you. You need not be afraid of any unpleasantness in that direction.
Remember, Mr. Inspector, thirty thousand pounds, and a free hand while
you are in my country. You are a man, I should judge, of fifty-two or
fifty-three years of age. You can spend your fifty-sixth birthday in
England, then, and be a man of means for the remainder of your days.”
“And this sum of money,” the detective said, “is for my services in
building up the police force of Tokio?”
“Broadly speaking, yes!” the Prince answered.
“And incidentally,” the detective continued, glancing cautiously at his
companion, “it is the price of my leaving unsuspected the murderer of
two innocent men!”
The Prince walked on in silence. Every line in his face seemed slowly
to have hardened. His brows had contracted. He was looking steadfastly
forward at the great front of Buckingham Palace.
“I am disappointed in you, Mr. Jacks,” he said a little stiffly. “I do
not understand your allusion. The money I have mentioned is to be paid
to you for certain well-defined services. The other matter you speak of
does not interest me. It is no concern of mine whether this man of whom
you are in search is brought to justice or not. All that I wish to hear
from you is whether or not you accept my offer.”
The Inspector shook his head.
“Prince,” he said, “there can be no question about that. I thank you
very much for it, but I must decline.”
“Your mind is quite made up?” the Prince asked regretfully.
“Quite,” the Inspector said firmly.
“Japan,” the Prince said thoughtfully, “is a pleasant country.”
“London suits me moderately well,” Inspector Jacks declared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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