"I think so, because just then they turned the other way."
I pressed him hard, but he could tell me nothing more.
All the way back to London my thoughts ran chiefly on this club-footed, pock-marked Jack. Such a business as mine brings a man into queer company, and, without boasting, I may say that I am acquainted with half the bad characters in London. Some years ago I was a detective in the police force, but thinking I could do better, I said good-bye to Scotland Yard, and started a private office of my own. I like a free hand, and I got it and have done well with it.
Jack. With a club foot. A short man, who did not seem easy in good clothes. His face pock-marked. What better marks of identification could a detective desire? I was on the threshold of discovery, and yet some perverse streak kept me from seeing it. Not till the train was a mile from St. Pancras did I suddenly cry aloud--for all the world as though the name flashed itself out on one of the advertisements in the carriage--"Jack Skinner!"
Yes, Jack Skinner. He answered the description perfectly. He was short, he was pock-marked, he had a club foot, he was accustomed to wear fustian. I was really annoyed with myself that I had not thought of him at once. But it happens so sometimes.
Jack was his proper name. I dare say. Skinner was a nickname, bestowed upon him for certain peculiarities by which he was distinguished. The house-agent's clerk heard him say, "I can show 'em a trick or two." I should think he could. No man better. But for all that, he hadn't done any good for himself. Jack and I were old friends. I nicked him once as clean as a whistle, and got him three months. "You're too much for me, guv'nor," he said with a grin. He had a wholesome fear of me, but it was a long time since I had set eyes on him.
The board was before me, with a lot of pieces on it. My next move was to hunt Jack down. I will not waste time by relating how I did it. A fortnight it took me before I had him under my thumb. I don't mind confessing (I didn't tell him as much) that I was not prepared for the disclosures he made. They took me fairly by surprise, and let a lot of light upon the Rye Street Mystery.
I shall let Jack speak for himself. The story he related shall be told in his own words.