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Updated: June 15, 2025
"You behold" Bristow softened his statement with a deprecating laugh "Mr. Lawrence Bristow, a finished, honest-to-heaven detective, a criminologist." "What do you mean?" "I'm going to make it my profession. I'm starting out as a professional detective." Overton burst into bubbling laughter. "That's rich!" he exclaimed. "You'd never in the world make good at it.
Besides his profession at the bar, he is an unusually gifted criminologist; takes a strong personal interest in the lowest riffraff; is writing a book, I understand one of the kind that will throw a new light on the subject." "Just what is a criminologist?"
But the courteous attention, the careful heeding of every word, was maintained to the end of the story. "And now, sir," said Bagley, triumphantly, "I'd like to ask what you think of that?" The criminologist gave a final look at Bagley, questioning for the last time his seriousness, and then answered, with cold decisiveness: "It's impossible." "But I know it to be true!" blurted Bagley.
As the depths of those blue eyes opened before his gaze, a mad, a ridiculous aching to crush her in his arms, surprised the professional consulting criminologist! For this swift instant, all memory of the Van Cleft case, of every other problem, was driven from his mind, as a blinding blast of seething desire surged about him.
"The jig is up, Warren," said the criminologist. "As a chess-player in the little game, you are a wonder. But, I think I may at last call 'Checkmate." "I'm not dead yet, Shirley," hissed Warren. "I gave you your chance to keep out of this. But you wouldn't take it. I'll settle the score with you before I'm finished. There's one man in the world who knows how to get away from bars. I'm that man."
To linger might renew vague suspicion, causing it to become more definite; and boys preserve themselves from moment to moment, not often attempting to secure the future. And a curious shade of behaviour might have here interested a criminologist.
Followed a period of intense depression when all things seemed to lose their savour and when Narkom, amazed, said to himself that the man had come to the end of his usefulness and had lost every attribute of the successful criminologist. For the next three cases he brought him Cleek botched in a manner that would have disgraced the merest tyro.
Lines and curves, sweeping everywhere towards the same constructive purpose, had been harmonised by the hand of time into a most surprising and effectual unity. The criminologist, notwithstanding his unemotional temperament, repeated his exclamation as he resumed his place in the carriage. "This is where you've got us beaten," he admitted.
The criminologist evinced a polite but not enthusiastic willingness to hear, and at once took an attitude of grave attention, which he kept during the entire recital, his face never changing; his gaze sometimes turned penetratingly on Bagley, sometimes dropping idly to the table.
At any rate, it would be silly to call himself anything of a criminologist; and yet go ahead with a blind, spoken conviction of the innocence of a man who unquestionably had acted in a way to bring suspicion upon himself. He would wait and see. He purposed to throw away no card that might later take a trick. "Very good," he said. "That suits me if you're satisfied.
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