Free The Last Pleasure Garden by Lee Jackson Page B

back.’
    â€˜It’s a dead bird. It was left here last night, outside Reverend Featherstone’s rooms.’
    â€˜Was it?’
    â€˜Did you see anyone prowling here last night?’
    â€˜I’d have smelt ’em first if I did.’
    â€˜No-one?’
    Jane Budge shakes her head. ‘Won’t you take no for an answer?’
    â€˜Sergeant!’ shouts Webb.
    â€˜Well, if you see anything out of the ordinary, Miss, you let me know. At Scotland Yard.’
    Jane Budge shrugs. ‘If you like. Your old man’s calling, you know.’
    â€˜I know,’ replies the sergeant with a grin. As he turns away, however, he notices Jane Budge’s hands – the skin around both her wrists mottled with bruises.
    â€˜How did you get those?’ he asks.
    Jane Budge pulls her sleeves further down her arm.
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜Mind your own business, Sergeant, eh?’
    The sound of Decimus Webb’s voice interrupts him again, and Sergeant Bartleby reluctantly returns to the inspector, leaving Jane Budge to her own devices.
    â€˜I warn you, Sergeant,’ says Webb. ‘You are not brightening my mood with your disappearing tricks.’
    â€˜She’s one of the servants, sir. Does for the Featherstones. I thought she might have seen something.’
    â€˜I don’t care if you were asking her to a matinée at the Alhambra,’ says Webb as they reach the southern gates of the college, which lead out to the King’s Road. ‘Come and let’s find another cab. Good God! And throw that wretched thing away, won’t you?’
    â€˜But I thought you said it was evidence?’
    â€˜Evidence of a juvenile prank is all it is, Sergeant. Do you know what I saw scratched on one of those forms in the schoolroom?’
    â€˜Sir?’
    â€˜A small representation of a bird, with a cap and gown. Quite artistic for a youngster. And the word “Feathers”. It is Featherstone’s nickname amongst his pupils, though he appears not to know it. These notes are the productions of some wretched schoolboy with an over-active imaginative faculty.’
    â€˜Are you sure, sir?’
    â€˜Not only am I sure, Sergeant, I suspect we can look forward to more of the same from all quarters. Look over there.’
    Webb points to the wall of Veitch’s Nursery, upon the opposite side of the King’s Road. A row of colourful red and green posters, each identical to the other, have been papered over the bricks.
    REWARD of £50
For Information which leads to the
CAPTURE of the
Dreadful Fiend known as ‘THE CUTTER’
APPLY Mr. J. Boon, Cremorne Gardens
    â€˜You know, Sergeant,’ says Webb, ‘I do not think this could get any worse.’
    Bartleby does not disagree, tossing the rolled-up newspaper into the gutter and wiping his hands on his trousers.

C HAPTER THIRTEEN

    â€˜M ama, I said I might see Beatrice at Barassa’s at half-past three.’
    â€˜Oh really, Rose, must you? The cab is an awful expense. When did you make this arrangement?’
    â€˜Bea wrote to me this morning.’
    â€˜Beatrice Watson should know better. What would your father say if he thought you were running off to some dingy confectioner’s every other day?’
    â€˜Mama!’ protests Rose Perfitt. ‘It is not dingy. You know it isn’t. Nor every other day.’
    â€˜And the cab, Rose?’ replies Mrs. Perfitt. ‘Your Papa is not made of money.’
    â€˜Then I shall walk.’
    â€˜You shall do no such thing!’ exclaims Mrs. Perfitt. ‘Very well, I suppose you cannot disappoint Beatrice. Have Richards find a cab. And be back by five – or your father will have something to say about it, I am sure.’
    â€˜Thank you, Mama!’ exclaims Rose, running up to kiss her mother. Mrs. Perfitt smiles, but does not let her daughter leave the room without offering some further advice.
    â€˜Remember, Rose, we