Mr. Narkom
had given him instructions that if any one of "any importance in the
affair in question" should turn up, he was to admit him, but to be
adamant in every other case. And so the queue of morbid-minded women and
idle men grew long and longer, and the clamour louder and louder, until
the tempers of the police on guard grew very short, and the crowd was
handled more and more firmly.
The effect of this began to tell. Slowly it thinned out and the people
turned once more into the Strand, sauntering along with their heads half
the time over their shoulders, while Petrie stood and mopped his face and
wondered what had become of Mr. Cleek, or if he had turned up in one of
his many _aliases_, and he hadn't recognized him.
"Like as not that's what's happened," he told himself, stuffing his
thumbs into his policeman's belt and setting his feet apart. "But what
gets over me is, not a sight 'ave I seen of young Dollops. And where Mr.
Cleek is.... Well, that there young feller is bound to be, too. Case is
drawin' to a close, I reckon, by this time.
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