"A Praed Street tradesman--in a small way--was
picked up, dying, in a quiet street off Maida Vale, at twelve o'clock last
night, and he died soon afterwards. And--he'd been poisoned!--but how, the
doctors can't yet tell."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE CALL FOR HELP
Purdie, whose temperament inclined him to slowness and deliberation in
face of any grave crisis, motioned the detective to take a seat in the
quiet corner of the smoking-room, into which they had retreated, and sat
down close by him.
"Now, to begin with," he said, "why do you think this affair is connected
with the affair of the old pawn-broker? There must be some link."
"There is a link, sir," answered Ayscough. "The man was old Daniel
Multenius's next door neighbour: name of Parslett--James Parslett, fruit
and vegetable dealer. Smallish way of business, but well known enough in
that quarter. Now, I'll explain something to you. I'm no hand at drawing,"
continued the detective, "but I think I can do a bit of a rough sketch on
this scrap of paper which will make clear to you the lie of the land.
These two lines represent Praed Street.
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