Person or Persons Unknown Read Online Free PDF Page A

was near dark outside. The streetlamps had been lit all round Bloomsbury Square. I chose a different route, leaving by Southampton Street, then down Little Queen Street, and so on. Though it was longer so, and I was late, the way circled those streets where I might have encountered Mar-iah. I had no wish to see her in conversation with some young blade, and even less to catch her marching off arm in arm with one to some place of assignation.
    The streets were filled, as they always were at that late time of day, with folk leaving their places of employment for their places of rest. Yet among them was one I spied who was then just on his way to work. And that was the one-armed Constable Perkins. He was just ahead when I turned upon Great Queen Street, easily recognized from the rear with his coat-sleeve pinned below the elbow. During the past year, since the time we had gone out together in search through low Thames River dives for a disappeared witness, we had become fast friends. I admired the proud way he conducted himself in spite of his affliction; he had much good sense to offer and had an attitude of hope and good cheer that no two-armed man of the Bow Street Runners could match.
    “Hi, Mr. Perkins,” I called, running to catch him up.
    He turned, warily and swiftly — the man seemed to be always on his guard — and then, recognizing me, he relaxed and allowed himself to smile.
    “Ah, Jeremy, it’s you, is it? I daresay we be goin’ in the same direction. Would you care to walk with me?”
    “Certainly I would,” said I. “And how are you this good evening?”
    “No better and no worse than I was the last — which is to say in no bad fettle at all.” We commenced a-pacing side by side. “And where was you so late in the day?”
    “To deliver a letter for Sir John to the Lord Chief Justice, and then to wait near three hours on a reply.”
    “Ah, well, one must always wait on such a man as that. He must live in a grand house, he must.”
    “Oh, he does, grandest I’ve seen — in Bloomsbury Square.” Having said that, an idea struck me of a sudden. “Mr. Perkins, I’ve a question to ask.”
    “Ask away, Jeremy.”
    “Do you think I might be made one of the Bow Street Runners?”
    “You mean sometime in the future?”
    “No, I mean now — soon. You and I know, as do most, that Sir John has been given authority to enlist new men in the Runners.”
    “True, or so I’ve heard.”
    “Why could I not be one? I know the duties. I know Westminster and the City.”
    “Well, you’re a bit young.”
    “Constable Cowley was taken on when he was eighteen or nineteen, something thereabouts.”
    “You’ve twice the brains he has, and that’s for certain sure. Still and all …”
    He thought upon it, saying nothing for a space. And as he thought, he turned us onto Drury Lane, and so my plan to circle wide round Mariah had thus gone to naught.
    “I thought you was for the law,” said Constable Perkins at last. “That’s some higher than walkin’ about with a club. I, for one, would hate to see you lose such a goal in life.”
    “Well, I need not,” said I. “I could read the law in my spare time, perhaps. It might take a bit longer, but — ”
    “In case you have not noticed, Jeremy, us Runners have precious little time to ourselves.” He threw me a sharp glance. “And let me be honest with you in this. I’m just not sure certain you’ve the taste for blood. You’re a plucky lad, no doubt of it, for I’ve seen you rise to the occasion. But on the streets at night you must be a bit angry at all times. Carry your anger and your suspicion with you, and let that be your shield. If you be challenged, you must be willing to break a head, even if the cause be slight. Only so can you win respect from the great band of blackguards who roam these precincts at night; only so can you keep it. You, I fear, would try to use reason with such.” He paused, as if considering some plan, some course of