The Search Party/Chapter 21
CHAPTER XXI
AT four o'clock Miss Farquharson, Mrs. Dick and Mrs. Sanders went down to the police barrack. They found Miss Blow seated by herself in the men's day room. Constable Moriarty was digging potatoes in the garden at the back of the house. He had been questioned and cross-questioned by Miss Blow for more than an hour after he had completed the destruction of the bicycle tyre. He felt jaded and nervous. He stood on the brink of a frightful exposure. A trifling accident, an incautious word, might at any moment betray the part he had played in Constable Cole's stratagem. Some men under the circumstances would have steadied themselves with whisky, but Moriarty was a strict teetotaller. Others would have smoked pipe after pipe of strong tobacco. Moriarty, much wiser, went out and dug potatoes. There is nothing more soothing to racked nerves than digging in the ground, and there is a mild excitement about driving a spade into potato ridges which distracts the mind from painful thoughts and terrifying anticipations. The turning up of the roots of any particular plant may display an amazing wealth of tubers, may expose to the gaze of the delighted gardener some potato of huge size or very unusual shape. You cannot tell beforehand what will be unearthed. Expectations and hope run high. There is also present a certain fear. It is always possible, unless you are very skilful at the work, that a spade may slice a potato, leaving you face to face with two reproachful, earth-soiled, flat surfaces, useless for the pot, a manifest disgrace to your digging. Moriarty was not a highly skilled or very experienced potato digger. He enjoyed to the full the pleasures of anticipation. He suffered from the bitterness which follows mistakes. He almost forgot Miss Blow and the torment of her questioning.
Then, at a quarter past four, Miss Blow's voice brought him back from his security. She called him by name from the back door of the barrack. Moriarty scraped the clay off the sides of his boots, shuffled on his coat, and gave his hands a rub on the front part of the legs of his trousers. Then he joined Miss Blow and the other ladies in the day room.
"Why isn't Sergeant Farrelly back?" asked Miss Blow.
"I don't know, miss."
"It's after four," said Miss Blow.
"Well, now," said Moriarty, "that's a queer thing, so it is."
"He started, I am told, at about half-past twelve."
"It might have been that," said Moriarty, "or it might have been more. I didn't take notice on account of being engaged in mending your tyre at the time."
"It's eight miles to Rosivera. Allow three-quarters of an hour to get there"
"It could be," said Moriarty, "that he was punctured on the way. It's a bad road."
"Allowing for all possible accidents, even supposing he walked the whole way there and back, they should be here by this time."
"They should. You're right, there, miss. They should."
"Will you," said Miss Blow, "kindly go and fetch Mr. Goddard, your officer? He ought to know that his men have not returned."
"I don't know will I be able to find him."
"Go and try."
"I will," said Moriarty. "I'll go and ask Jimmy O'Loughlin. If anybody knows where the officer is, it'll be Jimmy O'Loughlin."
Jimmy O'Loughlin told Moriarty to go back to the ladies and keep them amused for a while by showing them over the barrack. Moriarty refused to do this. He said that the situation was urgent and critical, and that he would not take the responsibility of dealing with Miss Blow without help. Jimmy O'Loughlin reluctantly went down to the barrack. Miss Blow attacked him at once.
"Where is Mr. Goddard?" she said.
"He's beyond," said Jimmy, "in the post-office, and he left word that he wasn't to be disturbed on account of his being terrible busy."
"He ought to be told that his men have not returned from Rosivera."
"I'd be in dread to go near him. It's telegrams he's sending, telegrams to the Lord Lieutenant and more of them high-up gentlemen, and that's the kind of work that would be preying upon a man."
"Sergeant Farrelly left this at a quarter past twelve," said, Miss Blow; "and he's not back yet."
"It's a long road," said Jimmy, "longer maybe than you'd think."
"It's eight miles."
"And eight back along with that."
"That only makes sixteen," said Miss Farquharson, who shared her nephew's fondness for intricate calculations.
"So they ought to be here by this time," said Miss Blow.
"It could be," said Jimmy, "that they might be a long time looking for the gentleman they're after before they'd find him. A fellow like that would be as cunning as an old fox, hiding himself when he saw the police after him."
"Oh," said Mrs. Dick, "I do hope nothing has happened to them. It would be too terrible."
"The sergeant," said Jimmy, "is a heavy man. He wouldn't be as quick as another at doing a run on a bicycle."
"Still," said Miss Blow, "he's had four hours and it's only sixteen miles."
"He'll have to walk back," said Jimmy, "and if so be the prisoner wasn't willing to come with him it might be a long time before he got him along the road, for he wouldn't like to be beating him. He has a kind heart, the sergeant; it's hardly ever you'd see him as much as laying a stick across a child."
Miss Blow seemed more or less satisfied. The idea of Mr. Red driven by threats of violent batoning along a dusty road comforted her. Jimmy O'Loughlin made his escape from the barrack.
He found Mr. Goddard scribbling a fresh telegram in the post-office.
"Look at that," he said, handing a form to Jimmy.
"From Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Why have you not reported recovery of Members of Parliament?"
"That's not what I'd call a civil message," said Jimmy. "What did you say to him?"
"Susy Lizzie," said Mr. Goddard, "give your uncle the answer I sent to the last telegram but two."
Susy Lizzie fumbled among a pile of papers and finally handed one over to Jimmy.
"To Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Impossible to report recovery of Members of Parliament with any truth because still at large. Goddard, District Inspector."
"Be damn," said Jimmy, "but you had him there, as neat as ever I seen."
"He's not satisfied, though. Look at this."
He handed another form to Jimmy.
"From Chief Secretary, Dublin Castle. Lord Lieutenant requests explanation of disappearance of Members of Parliament."
"Here's the answer to that," said Mr. Goddard.
"Read it out to your uncle, Susy Lizzie, before you send it off."
Susy Lizzie grinned broadly.
"Go on," said Jimmy, "and do what the gentleman bids you. You've no right to be laughing at the business of the Government."
"Theory current locally," read Susy Lizzie, "that Members of Parliament have deserted their wives and aunt."
"That'll give him his 'nough of telegraphing for this day anyhow," said Jimmy. "I'd like to see the way he'll be rampaging up and down the stairs of the Castle when he gets that. It'll show them fellows that you think mighty little of them anyway, Mr. Goddard."
"How are the ladies getting on?"
"I've quietened them for a bit. They were annoyed on account of Sergeant Farrelly not coming back; but I told them it would take him a long time to be dragging Mr. Red along the road by the hair of his head, and I didn't think he'd come without. They'll be all right for another hour, anyway. Will I be going into the hotel and telling Bridgy to fetch you over a cup of tea? It's after five o'clock."
It was nearly six o'clock before Bridgy came to the shop with a tray in her hands. She was followed by Affy, the young gentleman from the grocery department, who carried a loaf of bread and a pot of jam. Mr. Goddard and Susy 'Lizzie began a comfortable meal together. They were interrupted twice by telegrams from Dublin, but they did not allow these to trouble them much. A very much more serious interruption was caused by a breathless whisper from Affy to the effect that four ladies were entering the shop. Mr. Goddard, carrying his teacup with him, concealed himself behind a screen of muffed glass, originally erected by the post-office authorities in order that letters might be sorted out of sight of the public.
"Susy Lizzie," he whispered, "run like a good girl and get your uncle. Tell him that the ladies are here, and that he'll have to come at once and pacify them."
Susy Lizzie ran. She was enjoying her afternoon immensely. The monotony of her life was seldom broken in any way half so agreeable.
"If the thing is to be done, I'll do it," said Jimmy, when he received the message.
He left his bar and went into the shop. He faced Miss Farquharson, who was asking Affy where Mr. Goddard was likely to be found.
"I was thinking, my lady," said Jimmy, "that maybe you'd be wanting a bit of supper. What would you say now to a chop, or a couple of rashers and some eggs? I could have them got for you in a minute."
"I want Mr. Goddard, the police officer," said Miss Blow, who stood beside the post-office counter.
"Wouldn't it be better for you now," said Jimmy, turning to her, "to be eating your supper quietly instead of rampaging about the town frightening the wits out of a poor man that's doing his best for you? Come now, sure I'm old enough to be your father, and I know what's good for you. It's moidered you are with the trouble that's on you, and there isn't one in the place but is sorry for you and for all the rest of the ladies this night. But what's the good of making yourselves sick over it, and tormenting the officer? If they're gone, they're gone, and all the talking in the world won't bring them back to you."
"Man" said Miss Blow.
"Look at poor Susan Devlin," said Jimmy, "she's lost a husband as well as the rest of you, and barring that she might be crying an odd time when she'd be thinking of him, she's as quiet as a lamb. Why can't you behave yourselves like her? I'm not setting up to teach ladies like yourselves what ought to be and what ought not, but I'd say myself that the men that would run away from yez, from the like of yez"—he spoke with a smile that was meant to flatter—"isn't worth looking after."
"Do you dare to suggest" said Miss Farquharson.
"It's not the first time that suggestion has been made," said Miss Blow. "It's part of the scandalous conspiracy in which every man, woman and child in this place is involved."
"If you won't take your supper when it's offered you," said Jimmy, "maybe you'll sit inside in the hotel. You're interrupting the business of the shop standing where you are, let alone preventing the public from buying the stamps they have a right to buy to put on their letters."
The appeal produced its effect on Miss Blow. She had the blood of a business man in her veins. She understood that her father would have resented any interference with the sale of his twopenny Beauties, and would not have admitted either grief or anger as legitimate reasons for damming the flow of trade. Also she and her companions belonged to a law-abiding race. They had a natural respect for any department of the State. They felt it wrong to stop the sale of postage stamps. They trooped into the hotel and sat down in the commercial room. Once there Miss Farquharson's strong common sense asserted itself. She suggested that it might be wise after all to order bacon and eggs, quoting the advice given by St. Paul to the sailors who were threatened with shipwreck. Mrs. Dick and Mrs. Sanders declared with tears that it was impossible for them to eat in their heart-broken condition. This confirmed Miss Farquharson in her resolve to have a regular meal. She gave the necessary order to Jimmy O'Loughlin. Miss Blow agreed to eat on condition that the meal was served in the commercial room, the windows of which looked out on the street. She knew that Sergeant Farrelly, Constable Cole, and the prisoner must pass the hotel on their way to the barrack.