"Avram Davidson - What Strange Stars And Skies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Avram)

one is no more apt to credit it than her statement about the open door towards which they were led by
the man without a nose: for if Miss Mothermer did not blow upon the whistle, who did?
The noble and misfortunate lord did not waste breath inquiring of his cousin's companion if she were all
right, it being patent that she was not. He demanded, instead, what had become of Dame Phillipa; and
upon hearing the name Miss Mothermer became first quite hysterical and then unconscious. Lord
FitzMorris lifted her up and carried her to the place of rendezvous where, exactly on time, Mawhinny, his
chauffeur-footman, had just arrived with the Rolls motorcar. They drove immediately to Banstock House
where she was given brandy and put to bed by Mrs. Ox, the cook, whilst Lord FitzMorris summoned
the police.
An alarum had already been given, or, at any rate, an alarum of sorts. One of the wretchedly miserable
folk to whose succour Dame Phillipa devoted so much of her time, having somehow learned that she was
in danger, had informed Police-Sergeant L. Robinson to this effect. This man's name is not known. He is,
or at any event was, called by the curious nickname of "Tea and Two Slices", these being the only words
which he was usually heard to utter, and then only in a soft of whisper when ordering the only items he
was known to buy. His age, background, residence, and present whereabouts are equally unknown. He
had apparently an absolute horror of well-lighted and much-frequented places and an utter terror of
policemen, one cannot tell why, and it may be hard to imagine what agonies and efforts it must have cost
him to make his way to the police-station and inform Sergeant Robinson that he must go at once and
"help the lady." Unfortunately and for unknown reasons, he chose to make his way to the police-station in
Whitechapel instead of to the nearer one in Shadewell. His testimony would be of the utmost importance,
but it cannot now be obtained, for, after giving the alarum, he scurried forth into the night again and has
not been seen since.
The matter is otherwise with the testimony of the seaman, Greenbriar. It is available, it is copious, it fits
in with that of Miss Mothermer, it is unfortunate that it is quite unbelievable. Unbelievable, that is, unless
one is willing to cast aside every conceivable limit of credulity and to accept that on the night of Guy
Fawkes Day in that year of our sovereign lord King George V the great and ancient city of London was
the scene of a visitation more horrible than any in its previous history.
***


Albert Edward Greenbriar, Able-Bodied Seaman, is thirty-one years of age, and except for two
occasions on which he was fined, respectively, 2 and 2.10, for being drunk and disorderly, he has never
been in any trouble with the authorities. On the first of November he landed at St. Katherine Docks
aboard the merchant vessel Salem Tower, from the Straits Settlements with a cargo of rubber, copra,
and tinned pine-apples. Neither the Salem Tower nor Greenbriar had been in the United Kingdom for the
space of eleven months, and, consequently, when paid off, he was in possession of a considerable sum of
money. In the course of one week he had, with the assistance of several women who are probably
prostitutes, dissipated the entire sum. On discovering this the women, who share a communal flat in
Poplar, asked him to leave.
It was Greenbriar's intention to obtain another ship, but in this endeavour he was unsuccessful. He
managed to obtain a loan of half-a-crown from a casual acquaintance and spent the night at a
bed-and-breakfast place in Ropemakers Fields, Limehouse. The following evening, footsore and hungry
and, save for a single six-pence, penniless, he found himself in the Commercial Road, where he entered a
cookshop whose signboard announced that good tea bread, smelts and chips, were obtainable for that
sum. Obtainable they were, good they were not, but he was in no position to object. Having finished he
inquired the way to the convenience and there retired. On emerging he observed that he was next to the
back door which opened onto Argyll Court, although he did not know that was its name, and on looking
out he espied a sign.
The sign is still there; in white calligraphy of a fine Spencerian sort upon a black background it reads,
Seamen's Lodging House / Good Beds/ E. Llewellyn, Prop.