Dictator's Way Read Online Free Page B

support the trade slogan that ‘Beer is Best’, but in the C.I.D. a man must be prepared for all, even public-house tea, so Bobby sipped it resignedly and asked for directions how best to get to Dictator’s Way. The girl attending to him had never heard of it, so soon does fame pass, for it was only two or three years since the mere name had been enough to let free floods of indignation in all this district. However she undertook to ask one of the barmen and he fortunately was better informed and equally fortunately quite inclined for a gossip in this slack pre-opening hour. He knew, too, about The Manor House, and Mr. Judson, and Mr. Judson’s little parties.
    â€œKeep it up all right, they do,” said the barman. “I’ve seen the lights in the windows, and cars waiting, when I was going to work and that wasn’t much before six. That’s the life,” said the barman enviously and then brightened up. “He gets his beer from here and when you deliver and collect the empties, nothing’s said about ’em. Not so bad with empties allowed for at fourpence each. It’s Mr. Macklin does the ordering and a very nice gent, too.”
    â€œWho is Mr. Macklin?” Bobby asked. .
    â€œSort of a secretary gentleman,’’ the barman explained. “It’s him fixes it all up when Mr. Judson’s having friends. If there’s only a lady coming, Mr. Walker, that’s Mr. Judson’s chauffeur, sees to things. Handy gentleman, Mr. Walker, cook and manage just like a woman only better than most, and Mr. Judson likes him to do it all when he’s just having a lady friend. Mr. Judson ain’t no married man, just enjoys himself, he does,*’ said the barman still more enviously.
    â€œAren’t there any regular servants?” Bobby asked.
    â€œNot a one,” declared the barman. “Hard to get nowadays, them are, especial for a great rambling place like that. Girls won’t take it on – miles and miles of passages and rooms and no conveniences like. One reason why Mr. Judson gave it up and why he can’t sell.”
    â€œFor sale, is it?” Bobby said. “But how does he manage if he still uses it sometimes?”
    â€œContracts, if it’s a do,” explained the barman, “and if it’s only him and a lady, why, then Mr. Walker sees to everything, before and after. Has supper ready at night – champagne, oysters, all the best – and next morning on the spot at eight sharp. Sometimes he has to get their breakfast, sometimes they get it theirselves – and sometimes Mr. Walker says him and the guv’nor is off before the lady wakes up. But always liberal with ’em, always, that’s Mr. Judson,” added the barman, “a perfect gentleman if ever there was one, and a pity there aren’t more like him.”
    Bobby made no attempt to dispute this verdict. He paid his bill, added a liberal tip, and departed, feeling even more uncomfortable than before. He did not like so much talk of so many successive ladies, or of such lively parties prolonged to hours not so small. Something had certainly disturbed Waveny to a serious extent. He had talked about a girl. So had the barman, though in the plural and using a different word. If Mr. Judson had been extending, or even contemplating extending, his hospitality to any young woman of Waveny’s acquaintance, then there was a very clear probability of serious trouble ahead. Bobby began to wonder if it would be as well to suggest to his superiors the advisability of trying to find out a little more about Mr. Judson’s evening recreations, and if there was any known rivalry between Waveny and Judson. It might be well, too, to keep an eye on The Manor to-morrow evening. For that a hint to the local people would be enough.
    Possibly this Mr. Macklin might know something, or the chauffeur – even more probably the chauffeur. Bobby had acquired a