Elk 01 The Fellowship of the Frog
Page 32
“I then began my search for. Frog, and I very soon saw that, if I depended upon the identification of the tattoo marks, my search was hopeless. Naturally, when I discovered, as I soon did, that Maitland was a Frog, I narrowed my search to that office. I discovered that Maitland was an illiterate by the simple expedient of stopping him in the street one day near his house, and showing him an envelope on which I had written ‘You are a fake,’ and asking him if he knew the address. He pointed to a house farther along the street, and hurried in.”
“I knew that Maitland could neither read nor write when I learnt that the children’s clothes had been left at Eclat Street,” said Dick, “and from that moment I knew that Johnson was the Frog.
“Joshua Broad” nodded.
“That, I think, is about all I have to say. Johnson was a genius. The way he handled that huge organization, which he ran practically in his spare time when he was away from the office, was a revelation. He drew everybody into his net, and yet nobody knew him. Balder was a godsend; he was perhaps the highest paid agent of the lot. You will find that his income ran into six figures!”
* * * * *
When “Joshua Broad” had gone back to London, Dick walked with Elk to the garden gate.
“I shan’t be coming up for a little while,” he said.
“I never expected you would,” said Elk. “Say, Captain Gordon, what happened to those two wooden boxes that were in the quarry hut last night?”
“I didn’t see the boxes.”
“I saw them,” said Elk, nodding. “They were there when we took Miss Bennett away, and when I came back with the police they were gone, and ‘Joshua Broad’ was there all the time,” he added.
They looked at one another.
“I don’t think I should inquire too closely into that matter,” said Dick. “I owe ‘Broad’ something.”
“I owe him a bit too,” said Elk with a hint of enthusiasm. “Do you know, he taught me a rhyme last night? There are about a hundred and fifty verses, but I only know four. It starts:
“William the Conqueror started his tricks, Battle of Hastings, ten sixty-six.
“That’s a grand rhyme, Captain Gordon. If I’d only known that ten years ago I might have been a Chief Commissioner by now!”
He walked down the road towards the station, for be was returning by train. The sun glittered upon the rain-fringed banners of the hollyhocks that filled the cottagers’ gardens. Then from the hedge a tiny green figure hopped, and Elk stood still and watched it. The little reptile looked round and eyed the detective with black, staring eyes.
“Frog,” Elk raised a reproachful finger, “have a heart and go home—this is not your Day!”
And, as if he understood what the man had said, the frog leaped back to the shelter of the long grass.