A Model Crime.

Mataura Ensign, Issue 166, 23 July 1896, Page 6

A Model Crime.

j (By \V. Pett Ri.go) I The two swollen-eyed men from , Bethnal Green rubbed their stubbly . chins thoughtfully with the palms of their hands. They glanced at the I yellow young man in the armchair ; and then out of the window-at Jermyn Street. The yellow young man was Mr P. Rawlings, from San Domingo, and these were his chambers. " Wotf d'ye mike of it, Jimes ?" " It's thick," whispered James, hoarsely. " Vurry thick, Awlbsrt." " Tent as though this gent wanted the other gent abslootly mide off with," urged Albert. " I should strongly object," interposed young Mr Rawlings from the armchair, in his thin high voice, " if anything of the kind were dove. Understand that, once for all. There must be no great harm done to Mr Burleigh. He is simply to be kept out of the way for a month. He proposes to start shortly for a quiet trip on the Continent, and " " Be-fore his merridge'," remarked James. Mr P. Rawlings threw his black cigar into tho fire with an impetuous exclamation. " Be-fore his merridge." echoed Albert. "He must be abducted and kept quietly for a space until I give the word," said young Mr Rawlings. The two men glanced at each other again . " He's a biggish chep," remarked Albert. " Chlorryfom might do it, said James, thoughtfully. ."But it's a precious risky job. Do you 'appen to know the lidy he's going to merry sir ?" It was a most unfortunate question. " What the devil has that to do with you, man ! There is your business. Mind it." Mr P. Rawlings was in a great rage. He had started up from his chair, and stood glaring with his small black eyes at the two men. "No 'arm done, sir," said James, in a conciliatory way, " I on'y asted tho question. I wish to Gaud he wasn't a M.P., that's all. They're such a fussy lot, and you see he's a important chep. Why, I see his portraits are in the shop-windows, and he's in Madame Tussaud's, and " " I know, I know. It makes me hate him all the more." " Got to be done to-night, has it, sir ?" " This very night. He walks round St. James's Park betweeen nine and ten. What you ought to do is " A long detailed explanation. The two Bethnal Green gentlemen listened with great attention, nodding now and again as sign of their acceptance of the suggestions. "If I were abroad," said Mr P. Rawlings at the conclusion, " this could be done as easily as the striking of a match." " Ah 1" said James, bitterly, " that's just where it is. You're in 'appy England now, the 'ome of the free, where for theleastest little thing a man finds hisself locked up. Still, we'll do wot we can, won't we, Awlbert ?" He closed his left eye for a moment as he looked at his colleague. " We will that," responded Albert. " The best of men can do no more." " You understand," said Mr P. Rawlings decidedly. " that I give you nothing now. Come back here this evening and take me to the place where he is, and the money i 3 yours." " I could 'aye done with-a bit on account," said James. "Not a penny," said Mr Rawlings, definitely. The two Bethnal Green gentlemen sighed a protest against the dogmatism of Capital. " Well, if you won't, mawster," said Albert, philosophically, " I suppose you won't." The House that evening was unusually full. There was some excitement in the air, and earlier in the afternoon the Inspector had shaken up nearly a helmet full of tickets for the Strangers' Gallery. The space dividing Ministers was littered with the strips of paper which members tear up when they are in an emotional mood, and no one ivas perfectly asleep. The youthful-lookiug member who was addressing the House came to his peroration. He glaaced at a small red bonnet in the Ladies' Gallery. " For my part, Mr Speaker I can only say that, so long as life remains with me, — and that period may be short, and it may be long — I shall not cease to present with all the vigour in my power the arguments to which the House has so generously listened this evening." Enthusiastic cheering, as Mr Gerald Burleigh resumed his seat. Congratulators nodded from the front bench of his own side. A pleasant little note of felicitation was tossed across from the opposite side. Young Mr Burleigh, M.P., hurried round to meet the small red bonnet. " You are going for your usual walk round St. James's Park, I know," said the Red Bonnet, pleasantly. " No," lam not, dear. lam going to stroll with you on the terrace." " Well," the Red Bonnet gave a sigh as affectation of regret, "it is useless to argue with a member of Parliament. I only hope that my cousin — Bother !" Mr P. Rawlings, blinking his small, black eyes, said ho was pretty middling. How was Mr Burleigh ? Burleigh, without answering, said that Mr Rawling's cousin and he were just • about to stroll on the terrace, so that then would have to say good-bye to Mr Rawlings. " Burleigh," Mr Rawlings took the young man asido. " I want to speak to her as a member of the family 1 about money matters. I want .to do something rather handsome for her ' when tbis affair of yours comes off." ! " You're very good," said Mr Burloigh. He said this unwillingly, for he usually told the truth. " But, really, I don't know "

" No, you don't. I'm not so bad ai you think, Burleigh. I've got a heart after all, although my manner is a little odd at times. Now, you go for your usual run and I'll talk to her." Mr P. Rawlings insisted on walking out of St. Stephen's and across the yard with Gerald Burleigh. He seemed to talk rather quickly, and with a dread ol anything like a pause in the conversation. Outside the gates he stopped. " I must hurry back to my cousin," he said. He looked across the road and took his scarlet silk handkerchief from his pocket. The two Bethnal Green gentlemen standing on the opposite side of the road saw this, and then shading their eyes, looked up at the clock. " You won't be more than half-an-hour ?" "Less," said Gerald Burleigh. And striding across the road, S.t. James's Park way, he disappeared.from sight. " Nah, for this desprit deed," said James, with much good humor. "Is Ginger in Birdkige Walk with his keb ?" Albert nodded and smiled the confident smile of a general who sees success. " It's the biggest old beano I ever was in," he said. " I will sy this for you Jimes. You're a perfect mausterpiece." Mr P. Rawlings did not return to his cousin. Instead, ha took a swift cab to his rooms in Jerinyn street, and, arriving there, walked up and down outside. He was in a great state of nervousness, and he managed, in peering anxiously towards the end of the street, to drop his pince nez and smash the glasses. " Well, I'm hanged !', said Mr P. Rawlings, Which remark was, of course, premature. A cab drove up. Ou the top was a long orange case, corded up. Out of the door stepped James ; James, in a state of much disorder, red stains on his hands, a look of extreme fright on his swollen countenance. Albert behind him trembling obviously with horror. " Well," said Mr Rawlings, with an attempt at cheeriuess, " you're soon back. You've managed it, I hope ?" " Yus," said James, hoarsely. His voice sounded like tho voice of a blanket. " Yus, we've managed it. For Gaud's sake, sir, go upstairs. Mr P. Rawlings did so. He left the door open for the two men to follow, and switched on the light in his room. He picked up a particularly strong cigar, as though to honor the occasion, and stood the liqueur stand on the table. Then with his back to the fire, he awaited their coming. " Mind the corners, Jimes," said Albert. " Lift your end, cawn't ye ?" "Aint I lifting my end?" said James, in a whisper. " It's bloomin' 'eavy. Nah then altogether ! That's it." They brought in the long ease and placed it carefully on two chairs. Mr P. Rawlings started forward. " Stand back, sir," whispered James. " Don't touch the 'orrid thing until you've 'card the tile. Awlbert, shet the doar." " What on earth have you got thero ?" cried Mr Rawlings, excitedly. " He's not on earth," said James reverently. " He's in 'eaveu, poor chap, or 'ell as the kise may be. Can't you turn the lights dahn a bit, sir ?" There was a break iv the voice of the Bethnal Green gentleman. He untied the cord as the yellow Mr Rawlings and the trembling Albert stood by. Albert poured out some port in a tumbler ; James turned over the top lid of the case, aud lifted a handkerchief from the end. " Great God," cried Mr Rawlings. " You've killed him 1" The two men took their caps off reverently as they looked with every sign of remorse at the placid face. 1 Mr Rawlins gazod at the smoothly parted hair, the neat moustache, the strong chin, the " Tell me what it means," he cried feeling for the broken pence nez. " Why have you done this ? Why have you brought him here ?" The two men did not answer. "Do you know who you are ? You are " — he gave tho word in a muffled scream — " murderers." The two men started as Mr Rawlings, half white now, and half yellow, hissed the words at them. "It was an oversight, I admit," exclaimed James, slowly. " I s'ppose we used too much chlorryform. But if you're going to call us nimes, mister, perhaps we can find a title or two for you." " What is it to do with me ?" " A prutty tidy bit," said James, with much decision. " For one thing we're a goir.' to leave Mr Burleigh here, aud wo'ro a goin', Awlbert aud me, to give ourselves up at Vine Street. There's nothing like boing perfectly strite forward in these matters. And your name will be mentioned as 'living egged us on to do the deed." Mr Rawlings screamed. He rushed to the door and turned the key. " You have done this purposely," he exclaimed. " You blackguards." " We didn't do ifc purposely," remarked Albert, setting down the tumbler, but we cort'ny are blackguards. All three of us are," " Come on, Awlbert," said James. " It's no use arguing the question. Lot's get down to Vine Street and see the inspector. How might you spell your nime, Mister ?" " Look here," young Mr Rawlings breathed quickly. " Look here I'm going away. I'm going to leave London at once." " No daht," said James, ironically. " Oh, no daht. And leave us two gentlemen to bear the brunt of it all." " You have only to— to dispose of th 9 body," said Mr Rawlings, appealingly. " You can easily do that." " Ho, yus," said Albert. " Nothing easier I'm sure." He laughed a short, shrp laugh of derision. " It's quite a everyday job this is." "Look here," cried Mr Rawlings. He laid a hand on James's sleeve in an imploring manner. "If I give you " — he whispered a large sum — " will you get rid of it ? I shall catch the morning mail at Charing Cross, and go right away — for good." James hesitated. He drew his colleague aside, and conferred with him. " Look 'ere, sir. We're lettin' you 'aye it all your own way, I know, but if you'll double that figure, we'll, well, ' we'll do wot we can."

t " Aud you will take this — this t away ?" i He looked with loathing at the . ghastly upturned face in the long _ wooden box. " No cheques mind you," said James j with sudden suspicion. 3 " Notes and gold, my good man, 3 notes aud gold." I The transaction took but a few i minues. Then the two men lifted the i long box and carried ifc slowly down- •' stairs. ,• " Give us a 'and, Ginger," said James to the red-haired cabman. ! " The gent don't want it awfter . all." I I A yellow frightened face watched j them between the curtains of the first ; floor window. The cab drove off slowly and solemnly St. James's street way. At the corner it stopped. • " There's on'y one thing now," remarked James. " How are you going ; to get rid of the body of this unfortunate young member of Parliament. He laughed with the satisfied air of a man who has done a great night's work. Albert considered. " Tell ye wot," said Albert. " I'll tell you wot. Tike it back to the Marylebone Road where we pinched it from ; stick it outside tbe blooming Exhibition 'and let old Tussard, or wofcever his name is, find his property there in the morning. Is that good enough ?" James slapped his colleague on the knee. "My boy," answered James, with much good humor, " it's great. I never 'aye give back anything before as I bave borrowed, but just for once, I'll do it."— 1 The Idler.'