Eighteen CONFERENCE IN LONDON

Sir William Ossington, known to the cronies of earlier days as Billy Bones,stared incredulously at his friend.
“Didn’t you have enough crime out in Mayang?” he asked plaintively¹.
“Have you got to come home and do our work for us here?”
“Crime in Mayang isn’t on a wholesale² basis,” said Luke. “What I’m upagainst now is a man who’s done a round half-dozen murders at least—and got away with it without a breath of suspicion!”
Sir William sighed.
“It does happen. What’s his speciality—wives?”
“No, he’s not that kind. He doesn’t actually think he’s God yet—but hesoon will.”
“Mad?”
“Oh, unquestionably, I should say.”
“Ah! but he probably isn’t legally mad. There’s a difference, you know.”
“I should say he knows the nature and consequence of his acts,” saidLuke.
“Exactly,” said Billy Bones.
“Well, don’t let’s quibble about legal technicalities. We’re not nearly atthat stage yet. Perhaps we never shall be. What I want from you, old boy,is a few facts. There was a street accident took place on Derby Daybetween five and six o’clock in the afternoon. Old lady run over in White-hall and the car didn’t stop. Her name was Lavinia Pinkerton. I want youto dig up all facts you can about that.”
Sir William sighed. “I can soon get hold of that for you. Twenty minutesought to do it.”
He was as good as his word. In less than that time Luke was talking tothe police officer in charge of the matter.
“Yes, sir, I remember the details. I’ve got most of them written downhere.” He indicated the sheet that Luke was studying. “An inquest washeld — Mr. Satcherverell was the Coroner. Censure³ of the driver of thecar.”
“Did you ever get him?”
“No, sir.”
“What make of car was it?”
“It seems pretty certain it was a Rolls—big car driven by a chauffeur⁴. Allwitnesses unanimous on that point. Most people know a Rolls by sight.”
“You didn’t get the number?”
“No, unfortunately, nobody thought to look at it. There was a note of anumber FZX 4498—but it was the wrong number, a woman

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