and there invited him upstairs. He
adopted this course because he knew that the driver, who gave his name as
Taylor, would be more likely to talk freely in an office where he could
not be overheard than he would do on the cab-rank with his fellow-drivers
crowding him, or in an hotel parlour where other people were present.

"Tell me exactly what happened when you drove Mr. Holymead home on
Wednesday night," said Crewe. "Did you notice anything strange about
him, or was his manner much the same as on other occasions that he used
your cab?"

"Well, I don't see whether I should tell you whether he was or whether he
wasn't," replied the taxi-cab driver, who was as surly as most of his
class. "What's it to do with you, anyway? He's a regular customer of mine
on the rank, and he's not one of your tuppenny tipsters, either. He's a
gentleman. And if he got to know that I had been telling tales about him
it would not do me any good."

"It would not," replied Crewe, with cordial acquiescence. "Therefore,
Taylor, I give you my word of honour not to mention anything you tell me.
Furthermore, I'll see that you don't lose by it now or at any other time.
I cannot say more than that, but that's a great deal more than the police
would say. Now, would you sooner tell me or tell the police? Here's a
sovereign to start with, and if you have an interesting story to tell
you'll have another one before you leave."

The appeal of money and the conviction that the police would use less
considerate methods if Crewe passed him over to them abolished Taylor's
scruples about discussing a fare, and it was in a much less surly tone
that he responded:

"I didn't notice anything strange about him when he called me off the
rank, but I did afterwards. First of all, I didn't drive him home. That
is, I did drive him home, but he didn't go inside. When I drew up outside
his house in Princes Gate, I looked around expecting to see him get out.
As he didn't move I got down and opened the door. 'Aren't you getting out
here, sir?' I said, in a soft voice. 'No,' he said. 'Drive on.' 'This is
your house, sir,' I ventured to say. 'I'm not going in,' he replied,
'drive on.' I was surprised. I thought he was the worse for drink, and
I'd never seen him that way before. But some gentlemen are so obstinate
in liquor that you can't get them to do anything except the opposite of
what you ask them. I thought I'd try and coax him. 'Better go inside,
sir,' I said. 'You