The problem immediately before the Chief Inspector was that of managing the Assistant Commissioner of his department, his immediate superior.This is the perennial problem of trusty and loyal servants; anarchism gave it its particular complexion, but nothing more.Truth to say, Chief Inspector Heat thought but little of anarchism.He did not attach undue importance to it, and could never bring himself to consider it seriously.It had more the character of disorderly conduct; disorderly without the human excuse of drunkenness, which at any rate implies good feeling and an amiable leaning towards festivity.As criminals, anarchists were distinctly no class -no class at all.And recalling the Professor, Chief Inspector Heat, without checking his swinging pace, muttered through his teeth:
`Lunatic.'
Catching thieves was another matter altogether.It had that quality of seriousness belonging to every form of open sport where the best man wins under perfectly comprehensible rules.There were no rules for dealing with anarchists.And that was distasteful to the Chief Inspector.It was all foolishness, but that foolishness excited the public mind, affected persons in high places, and touched upon international relations.A hard, merciless contempt settled rigidly on the Chief Inspector's face as he walked on.His mind ran over all the anarchists of his flock.Not one of them had, half the spunk of this or that burglar he had known.Not half - not one tenth.
At headquarters the Chief Inspector was admitted at once to the Assistant Commissioner's private room.He found him pen in hand, bent over a great table bestrewn with papers, as if worshipping an enormous double inkstand of bronze and crystal.Speaking-tubes resembling snakes were tied by he heads to the back of the Assistant Commissioner's wooden armchair, and their gaping mouths seemed ready to bite his elbows.And in this attitude he raised only his eyes, whose lids were darker than his face and very much creased.The reports had come in: every anarchist had been exactly accounted for.
After saying this he lowered his eyes, signed rapidly two single sheets of paper, and only then laid down his pen, and sat well back, directing an inquiring gaze at his renowned subordinate.The Chief Inspector stood it well, deferential but inscrutable.
`I daresay you were right,' said the Assistant Commissioner, `in telling me at first that the London anarchists had nothing to do with this.I quite appreciate the excellent watch kept on them by your men.On the other hand, this, for the public, does not amount to more than a confession of ignorance.'
The Assistant Commissioner's delivery was leisurely, as it were cautious.
His thought seemed to rest poised on a word before passing to another, as though words had been the stepping-stones for his intellect picking its way across the waters of error.`Unless you have brought something useful from Greenwich,' he added.
The Chief Inspector began at once the account of his investigation in a clear, matter-of-fact manner.His superior, turning his chair a little, and crossing his thin legs, leaned sideways on his elbow, with one hand shading his eyes.His listening attitude had a sort of angular and sorrowful grace.Gleams as of highly burnished silver played on the sides of his ebony-black head when he inclined it slowly at the end.
Chief Inspector Heat waited with the appearance of turning over in his mind all he had just said, but, as a matter of fact, considering the advisability of saying something more.The Assistant Commissioner cut his hesitation short.
`You believe there were two men?' he asked, without uncovering his eyes.
The Chief Inspector thought it more than probable.In his opinion, the two men had parted from each other within a hundred yards from the Observatory walls.He explained also how the other man could have got out of the park speedily without being observed.The fog, though not very dense, was in his favour.He seemed to have escorted the other to the spot, and then to have left him there to do the job single-handed.Taking the time those two were seen coming out of Maze Hill Station by the old woman, and the time when the explosion was heard, the Chief Inspector thought that the other man might have been actually at the Greenwich Park Station, ready to catch the next train up, at the moment his comrade was destroying himself so thoroughly.
`Very thoroughly - eh?' murmured the Assistant Commissioner from under the shadow of his hand.
The Chief Inspector in a few vigorous words described the aspects of the remains.`The coroner's jury will have a treat,' he added, grimly.
The Assistant Commissioner uncovered his eyes.
`We shall have nothing to tell them,' he remarked, languidly.
He looked up, and for a time watched the markedly noncommittal attitude of his Chief Inspector.His nature was one that is not easily accessible to illusions.He knew that a department is at the mercy of its subordinate officers, who have their own conceptions of loyalty.His career had begun in a tropical colony.He had liked his work there.It was police work.
He had been very successful in tracking and breaking up certain nefarious secret societies amongst the natives.Then he took his long leave, and got married rather impulsively.It was a good match from a worldly point of view, but his wife formed an unfavourable opinion of the colonial climate on hearsay evidence.On the other hand, she had influential connections.
It was an excellent match.But he did not like the work he had to do now.
He felt himself dependent on too many subordinates and too many masters.
