The Scandal at 23 Mount Street (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 9) by Clara Benson

them. He is one Josiah McLeod, of no fixed abode, and he spends most of his days standing outside the clubs of St. James’s, where he ekes out a small living from the generosity of the clubs’ patrons. Mr. Pilkington-Soames brought the man to me, and we both agree that he tells a most interesting tale. According to his story, he was outside Burkett’s at about four o’clock on the Saturday afternoon in question when he saw two men emerge from the building in conversation, one of whom was Mr. Marchmont. He knew your husband’s name because he knows most of the members of the club by sight, and he had remarked upon the appearance only a few days earlier of an unfamiliar face—one, moreover, with an American accent—so he had been paying particular attention and had soon overheard the commissionaire address him as Mr. Marchmont. Jos did not know the other man at all, and could only say that he was youngish and smartly dressed. He also said that there was something slightly foreign about him, although he was unable to explain what he meant by that; it was certainly not the man’s accent, which was an English one. It is not a particularly helpful description, but I am afraid it is the only one we have.’
    ‘Go on,’ said Angela in sudden interest.
    ‘According to Jos, the men appeared to be having some kind of altercation, although he was unable to hear exactly what it was about. As he describes it, the second man said something in a low voice to Mr. Marchmont, who heard him with a sort of incredulous smile upon his face and made some scornful reply. They were just walking down the steps then, and Jos says he distinctly heard the foreign-looking man say, “I won’t dirty my hands trying. I shall simply shoot you as I would a dog.”’
    ‘Goodness me,’ said Angela, in whose mind an awful thought was forming. She quickly quashed it and inquired, ‘And what did Davie say to that?’
    ‘He was not given the opportunity to reply, for the other man then walked away.’
    ‘I see,’ said Angela.
    Mr. Addison was a little disappointed. He had expected his client to be more excited at this sensational new evidence, and could not help saying so.
    ‘Of course, Jos is hardly the most reliable of witnesses,’ he said, ‘but we shall clean him up and make sure he stays sober, and I am confident that he will do well in court.’
    ‘Oh, I have no doubt of it,’ said Angela. ‘Of course, this is an extremely valuable piece of evidence, and I’m tremendously grateful to Freddy for finding this fellow. I don’t mean to be a pessimist—it’s just that I rather fear we won’t be able to find the man who is supposed to have threatened Davie at the club. If he is a foreigner, then perhaps he has already gone back to wherever he came from.’
    ‘Well, young Freddy is going to speak to the people at Burkett’s to see if anyone can shed any light on the man’s identity,’ said Mr. Addison. ‘Let us hope he is successful.’
    ‘Yes, let’s,’ said Angela. ‘Excuse me, but are you sure this Jos has no better description to give of the second man? He cannot say whether he was tall or short, for example? “Youngish, with something slightly foreign about him” is not exactly helpful.’
    ‘I believe his exact words were that the man was “a smart-looking gent, a bit too got up to be English,”’ said Mr. Addison. ‘I am afraid that Jos is not particularly known for his sobriety during the day, so the fact that we have got even this much out of him is a small miracle. He did say, however, that he thought the man might have dropped something, for he saw your husband bend down and pick up an object from the steps shortly after the other had left. That might mean anything or nothing, though. It was most likely something your husband had dropped himself.’
    ‘Then you think it might have been this man Jos saw on the steps who killed Davie?’
    ‘Perhaps, but whether it was or not does not matter. As I have said, our