Person or Persons Unknown by Bruce Alexander Read Free Book Online

see. And at night, in the dark, I am able to see nothing at all.”
    “I’m … I’m sorry.” And knowing not what else to say, I kept my silence and waited.
    “Ah, but I can hear!” From her lips, that simple statement took the form of great dramatic utterance. “And often I have the power to see with my ears.”
    “Could you be more specific?” I asked. “What, for instance, did you hear just before Mr. Tillbury gave his cry of murder?”
    ‘“Noi just before — let us say, not long before that I heard an argument, a most bitter disagreement it was, between a man and a woman. Her voice was shrill and strident, most disagreeable, and his, rumbling and rasping, was equally so in its way.”
    “And where did they come from? Were they nearby?”
    “No, not nejirby, yet again not so far away. Off to the right, it was, down that alley. There is an alley there, is there not, Mr. Tillbury?”
    “Oh, yes, ma’am, there is. There is indeed,” said he.
    “And what was said between these two?” I asked.
    “I did not hear words so much as voices,” said she. “Him I could not understand at all. He simply rumbled on.”
    “And the lady?”
    “She a lady? Oh, I think not, young man.” She emitted a cold, mirthless laugh. “Her kind are often hereabouts for the little privacy it offers from the street. I hear them and those who give them custom doing their dirty business up against the wall.”
    “But what did she say, madam? It seems you must have heard something.” I fear my loss of patience altered my tone somewhat. How I envied Sir John his attitude of cool persistence!
    “Well, then, if you must,” said she, sounding much put-upon, “there was but one phrase that I heard distinct, and it was this: ‘not with the likes of you.’ “
    “And nothing more?”
    “Nothing more that one could understand. But…”
    “But what?”
    “It was said in such a way — that is to say, her manner of speech was such … well, I took her to be Irish.”
    Having gleaned that much, I decided to leave off with my questions. I nodded to Tillbury, indicating I had done, thanked her curtly, and made to go.
    “He must have been a large man,” said she, muttering to herself.
    “Why do you say that?” I asked.
    “Simple enough. He carried her here, and tucked her under the stairs, did he not? I sat in the dark and heard all that, as well.”
    “Thank you again, Mrs. Crewton. You’ve been most helpful.”
    I had learned a lesson in interrogation. Thereafter I would always remember to allow the witness to have his say. She may merely have confirmed what Sir John had already concluded, yet such verification would always be welcomed by him.
    I went with Mr. Tillbury the few steps to his own door and thanked him also.
    Then he said: “She’s a bit daft, I fear, and goes on some. But you may trust what she tells you.”
    As I approached Sir John, I saw to my surprise that he was alone. The woman whom he had designated his last witness was giving information to Mr. Benjamin Bailey; and he, by the light of the lantern held high by Mr. Cowley, was penciling it on a piece of paper. I wondered had she much to offer.
    “Ah, Jeremy, what have you to tell? I do hope you will forgive me for sending you off to talk to that woman. It seemed to me that if she were as nearly blind as Mr. Tillbury said, I decided you would be the better interrogator. If I were to have talked to her, it would have been much like the blind leading the blind.” (Thus he often joked of his affliction.)
    “Sir, I welcomed the opportunity.”
    “Good of you to say so. But what did she say?”
    I told him in far less time than Mrs. Crewton had taken to tell me the phrase she had heard from the victim’s lips and her suspicion that the woman was Irish. I added that though she had been unable to see the murderer, she had heard him track by and place the body under the stairs.
    “Excellent!” said Sir John. “You’ve done well, Jeremy, for all that you