Detective and mystery stories; Legal stories; Leithen, Edward (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"You fear nothing and you believe nothing," I said. "Man, you should
never have been allowed to live."
He raised a deprecating hand. "I am a sceptic about most things," he
said, "but, believe me, I have my own worship. I venerate the
intellect of man. I believe in its undreamed-of possibilities, when
it grows free like an oak in the forest and is not dwarfed in a
flower-pot. From that allegiance I have never wavered. That is the
God I have never forsworn."
I took out my watch.
"Permit me again to remind you that time presses."
"True," he said smiling, "the continental express will not wait upon
my confession. Your plan is certainly conceivable. There may be
other and easier ways. I am not certain. I must think.... Perhaps
it would be wiser if you left me now, Mr. Leithen. If I take your
advice there will be various things to do.... In any case there will
be much to do...."
He led me to the door as if he were an ordinary host speeding an
ordinary guest. I remember that on my way he pointed out a set of
Aldines and called my attention to their beauty. He shook hands
quite cordially and remarked on the fineness of the weather. That
was the last I saw of this amazing man.
It was with profound relief that I found myself in Piccadilly in the
wholesome company of my kind. I had carried myself boldly enough in
the last hour, but I would not have gone through it again for a
king's ransom. Do you know what it is to deal with a pure
intelligence, a brain stripped of every shred of humanity? It is
like being in the company of a snake.
I drove to the club and telephoned to Macgillivray, asking him to
take no notice of my statement till he heard from me in the morning.
Then I went to the hospital to see Chapman.
That leader of the people was in a furious temper and he was scarcely
to be appeased by my narrative of the day's doings. Your Labour
Member is the greatest of all sticklers for legality, and the outrage
he had suffered that morning had grievously weakened his trust in
public security. The Antioch Street business had seemed to him
eminently right; if you once got mixed up in melodrama you had to
expect such things. But for a Member of Parliament to be robbed in
broad daylight next door to the House of Commons upset the
foundations of his faith. There was little the matter with his body
and the doctor promised that he would be allowed up next day, but his
soul was a mass of bruises.
It took me a lot of persuasion to get him to keep quiet. He wanted a
public exposure of Lumley, a big trial, a general ferreting out of
secret agents, the whole winding up with a speech in Parliament by
himself on this last outrage of Capitalism. Gloomily he listened to
my injunctions to silence. But he saw the reason of it and promised
to hold his tongue out of loyalty to Tommy. I knew that Pitt-Heron's
secret was safe with him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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