Free The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie Page B

rule to go by,” said Battle. “The more they talk, the less they'll do. You'd be surprised how well that works out.”
    “And I've heard that very often you let them go on?”
    Battle nodded.
    “That's so. Why shouldn't a man call himself a Brother of Liberty and meet twice a week in a cellar and talk about rivers of blood - it won't hurt either him or you and if there is any trouble any time, we know where to lay our hands on him.”
    “But sometimes, I suppose,” said Bundle slowly, “a society may be more dangerous than anyone imagines?”
    “Very unlikely,” said Battle.
    “But it might happen,” persisted Bundle.
    “Oh, it might,” admitted the Superintendent.
    There was a moment or two's silence. Then Bundle said quietly:
    “Superintendent Battle, could I have a list of secret societies with headquarters in Seven Dials?”
    It was Superintendent Battle's pride to have never been seen to display emotions of any kind. Bundle could have sworn that just for a moment his eyelids flickered. He was taken aback. Only for a moment. After that, he was his usual wooden self.
    “Strictly speaking, Lady Eileen, there is no longer such place as Seven Dials.”
    “No?”
    “No. Most of it is pulled down and rebuilt on. It was rather a low quarter, but nowadays it is a respectable and high class part of town. Not at all a romantic spot to search for mysterious secret societies.”
    “Oh!” said Bundle, rather taken aback.
    “But all the same I should like to know what put that neighbourhood in your head, Lady Eileen.”
    “Have I got to tell you?”
    “Well, it saves trouble, if we know where we are, so to speak.”
    Bundle hesitated for an instant.
    “There was a man shot,” she said slowly. “I thought I had run him over.”
    “Mr. Ronald Devereux?”
    “You know about it, of course. Why has there been nothing in the papers?”
    “Do you really want to know that, Lady Eileen?”
    “Yes, please.”
    “Well, we just thought we should like to have a clear twenty-four hours - see? It will be in the papers tomorrow.”
    “Oh!” Bundle studied him, puzzled.
    What was hidden behind that immovable face? Did he regard the shooting of Ronald Devereux as an ordinary crime or as an extraordinary one?
    “He mentioned Seven Dials when he was dying,” said Bundle slowly.
    “Thank you,” said Battle. “I'll make a note of that.”
    He wrote a few words on the blotting pad in front of him.
    Bundle started on another tack.
    “Mr. Lomax, I understand, came to see you yesterday about a threatening letter he had had.”
    “He did.”
    “And that was written from Seven Dials?”
    “It had Seven Dials written at the top of it, I believe.”
    Bundle felt as though she was battering hopelessly on a locked door.
    “If you'll let me advise you, Lady Eileen -”
    “I know what you're going to say.”
    “I should go home and - well, think no more about these matters.”
    “Leave it to you, in fact?”
    “Well,” said Superintendent Battle, “after all, we are the professionals.”
    “And I'm only an amateur? Yes, but you forget one thing - I mayn't have your knowledge and skill - but I have one advantage over you. I can work in the dark.”
    She thought that the Superintendent seemed a little taken aback, as though the force of her words struck home.
    “Of course,” said Bundle, “if you won't give me a list of secret societies -”
    “Oh! I never said that. You shall have a list of the whole lot.”
    He went to the door, put his head through and called out something, then came back to his chair. Bundle, rather unreasonably, felt baffled. The ease with which he acceded to her request seemed to her suspicious. He was looking at her now in a placid fashion.
    “Do you remember the death of Mr. Gerald Wade?” she asked abruptly.
    “Down at your place, wasn't it? Took an overdraught of sleeping mixture.”
    “His sister says he never took things to make him sleep.”
    “Ah!” said the Superintendent. “You'd