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Updated: June 11, 2025
This candour seemed to administer a knock-out blow to the little secretary's Victorian mind. He was speechless. He took off his pince-nez, blindly polished them with his pocket-handkerchief and replaced them upon his nose. His fingers trembled violently. "I have no wish to appear vulgarly curious," the girl went on, Mr. Jeekes made a quick gesture of dissent, "but I am anxious to know whether Mr.
Jeekes waited until they had been served and the waiter had withdrawn silently into the dim vastness of the great room before he spoke. "Now, then, young Wright," he said, "what's this about a letter? Tell me from the beginning ..." "But why do you assume that I've got it?" There was an air of forced joviality about Mr.
From somewhere in the dark shadows above the fire glowing red through the falling twilight a clock chimed once. There was a faint rustling from the neighborhood of the door. Mr. Jeekes started violently. A coal dropped noisily into the fireplace. "There was something else," said Mary, ignoring the interruption, and paused. She did not look up when she spoke again.
"I can teach my servants discretion," he replied whimsically, "but I can't teach 'em to use their eyes. Frau Wirth could remember nothing about this fellow except that he wasn't tall and wore a brown overcoat ..." "Jeekes!" cried Robin, slapping his thigh. "He must have been actually coming away from your place when I met him ..."
"It was there right enough," he remarked. "I saw it. A letter about steel shipments and the dockers' strike, wasn't it? As there seemed nothing to it, I left it with the other papers for Jeekes, the secretary chap. But what evidence is there that this was blackmail?" "This," said Robin, and showed the detective the sheet of blue paper with its series of slits.
She fought down a sudden sensation of panic that made her want to scream, to bolt from the room into the fresh air, anywhere away from those snake eyes, that soft voice, that clammy hand. She collected her thoughts, remembered that Jeekes must be somewhere in the house, as his outdoor things were in the hall.
Over their meal Bruce told Robin of his adventure in the library at Harkings. "Jeekes must have collected that letter," Bruce said. "Before I came to you, I went to Lincoln's Inn Fields to see if he was still at Bardy's Parrish's solicitor, you know. But the office was closed, and the place in darkness. I went on to the Junior Pantheon, that's Jeekes's club, but he wasn't in.
His face was livid, the eyes bulged horribly from his head, and his whole body was trembling with emotion. In his hand he held an automatic pistol. He came so fast that he was at the car and had covered Robin with his weapon before the other had seen him come. Mr. Jeekes left Robin no time to act. He called out in a voice that rang like a pistol shot: "Hands up, Mr. Smartie! Quick, d'you hear?
The police profess to be willing to accept the testimony of the specialists as satisfactory medical evidence about his state of mind. But I distrust that man, Manderton. He is not satisfied, Mr. Jeekes. He won't rest until he knows the truth." The secretary cast her a frightened glance. "But Mr.
It was apparently an office, for there was a high desk running down the centre and a large safe occupied a prominent place against the wall. Jeekes and the man Victor stood chatting at the desk. The yellow-faced man was grinning sardonically. "Parrish don't like your methods, I'll be bound," he retorted. "Don't you worry about the little lady, Jeekes! Bless your heart, I won't hurt her unless ..."
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