It took time--he dared not calculate how
long. Carruthers was not the man to let the grass grow under his feet!
Carruthers would probably, before leaving home, have telephoned some
Headquarters' man to meet him--the detective would have telephoned
Headquarters from Melinoff's--and after that it would not take the
police long to reach the Mole's!
It took time, this tortuous threading of the East Side--he did not
know how long it had taken--but at last, as he swung into a long, black,
and very narrow alleyway, he drew a quick breath of relief. So far, at
least, he was ahead of the police. It was still and silent, there was no
sound of any disturbance, and the Mole's now was only a little way
ahead. He stole forward noiselessly. It was very quiet--much more quiet
even than usual in that far from savoury neighbourhood. He remembered,
with a grim smile of satisfaction, that the Wowzer had explained there
was to be no crowding for front seats for fear of attracting the
attention of the police. It had been very thoughtful of the Mole to pass
that word around--very! With the underworld, prompted by curiosity and
seething with hate, swarming here, the single chance he, Jimmie Dale,
had of reaching her would have been swept away.
Pages:
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380