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Having finished with Gerridge and the cab…man； Ford had at once
gone to the Langham Hotel； where； as he anticipated； nothing was known
of Pearsall or his niece； or of any invalid lady。 But the hall…porter
remembered the American gentleman who had driven up with many pieces
of luggage； and who； although it was out of season； and many suites in the
hotel were vacant； had found none to suit him。 He had then set forth on
foot； having left word that his trunks be sent after him。 The address he
gave was a house in Sowell Street。
The porter recalled the incident because he and the cabman had
grumbled over the fact that in five minutes they had twice to handle the
same boxes。
〃It is pretty evident；〃 said Ford； what Pearsall had in mind； but chance
was against him。 He thought when he had unloaded his trunks at the
Langham and dismissed the cabman he had destroyed the link connecting
him with Gerridge's。 He could not foresee that the same cabman would be
loitering in the neighborhood。 He should have known that four…wheelers
are not as plentiful as they once were； and he should have given that
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particular one more time to get away。 His idea in walking to the Sowell
Street house was obviously to prevent the new cabman from seeing him
enter it。 But； just where he thought he was clever； was just where he
tripped。 If he had remained with his trunks he would have seen that the
cabman was the same one who had brought them and him from Craven
Street； and he would have given any other address in London than the one
he did。
〃And now；〃 said Ford； 〃that we have Pearsall where we want him； tell
me what you have learned about Prothero？〃
Cuthbert smiled importantly； and produced a piece of paper scribbled
over with notes。
〃Prothero；〃 he said； 〃seems to be THIS sort of man。 If he made your
coffee for you； before you tasted it； you'd like him to drink a cup of it
first。〃
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The Lost House
II
〃Prothero；〃 said Cuthbert； 〃is a man of mystery。 As soon as I began
asking his neighbors questions； I saw he was of interest and that I was of
interest。 I saw they did not believe I was an agent of a West End shop； but
a detective。 So they wouldn't talk at all； or else they talked freely。 And
from one of them； a chemist named Needham； I got all I wanted。 He's had
a lawsuit against Prothero； and hates him。 Prothero got him to invest in a
medicine to cure the cocaine habit。 Needham found the cure was no cure；
but cocaine disguised。 He sued for his money； and during the trial the
police brought in Prothero's record。 Needham let me copy it； and it seems
to embrace every crime except treason。 The man is a Russian Jew。 He was
arrested and prosecuted in Warsaw； Vienna； Berlin； Belgrade； all over
Europe； until finally the police drove him to America。 There he was an
editor of an anarchist paper； a blackmailer； a 'doctor' of hypnotism； a
clairvoyant； and a professional bigamist。 His game was to open rooms as a
clairvoyant； and advise silly women how to invest their money。 When he
found out which of them had the most money； he would marry her； take
over her fortune； and skip。 In Chicago； he was tried for poisoning one wife；
and the trial brought out the fact that two others had died under suspicious
circumstances； and that there were three more unpoisoned but anxious to
get back their money。 He was sentenced to ten years for bigamy； but
pardoned because he was supposed to be insane； and dying。 Instead of
dying； he opened a sanatorium in New York to cure victims of the drug
habit。 In reality； it was a sort of high…priced opium…den。 The place was
raided； and he jumped his bail and came to this country。 Now he is running
this private hospital in Sowell Street。 Needham says it's a secret
rendezvous for dope fiends。 But they are very high…class dope fiends； who
are willing to pay for seclusion； and the police can't get at him。 I may add
that he's tall and muscular； with a big black beard； and hands that could
strangle a bull。 In Chicago； during the poison trial； the newspapers called
him 'the Modern Bluebeard。〃'
For a short time Ford was silent。 But； in the dark corner of the cab；
Cuthbert could see that his cigar was burning briskly。
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The Lost House
〃Your friend seems a nice chap；〃 said Ford at last。 〃 Calling on him
will be a real pleasure。 I especially like what you say about his hands。〃
〃I have a plan；〃 began the assistant timidly； 〃a plan to get you into the
house…if you don't mind my making suggestions？〃
〃Not at all！〃 exclaimed his chief heartily。
〃Get me into the house by all means； that's what we're here for。 The
fact that I'm to be poisoned or strangled after I get there mustn't discourage
us。'〃
〃I thought；〃 said Cuthbert； 〃I might stand guard outside； while you got
in as a dope fiend。〃
Ford snorted indignantly。 〃Do I LOOK like a dope fiend？〃 he
protested。
The voice of the assistant was one of discouragement。
〃You certainly do not；〃 he exclaimed regretfulIy。 〃But it's the only plan
I could think of。〃
〃It seems to me；〃 said his chief testily； 〃that you are not so very
healthy…looking yourself。 What's the matter with YOUR getting inside as a
dope fiend and MY standing guard？〃
〃But I wouldn't know what to do after I got inside；〃 complained the
assistant； 〃and you would。 You are so clever。〃
The expression of confidence seemed to flatter Ford。
〃I might do this；〃 he said。 〃I might pretend I was recovering from a
heavy spree； and ask to be taken care of until I am sober。 Or I could be a
very good imitation of a man on the edge of a nervous breakdown。 I
haven't been five years in the newspaper business without knowing all
there is to know about nerves。 That's it！〃 he cried。 〃I will do that！ And if
Mr。 Bluebeard Svengali； the Strangler of Paris person； won't take me in as
a patient； we'll come back with a couple of axes and BREAK in