The Strange Affair of Spring Heeled Jack - Mark Hodder [113]
"What's all this, sir? Has there been an accident?"
"Yes, Constable," answered Burton. "Would you flag down a carriage for me? I have to get this fellow to a doctor!"
"I should ride along with you. I'll need to report this!"
"Fine, but hurry, man!"
The policeman ran out into the road and stopped a horse-drawn fourwheeler, ejecting its indignant passengers.
"I say! What the devil do you think you're playing at?" objected the portly old gentleman who suddenly found himself without a ride. "My wife is sixty-two, don't you know!"
"Harold!" gasped his heavily made-up spouse.
"Oh, er, sorry, my dear," stammered the erstwhile passenger; then, upon spying Swinburne as Burton heaved him onto the seat, he cried: "Great Scott! The poor fellow! By all means take the carriage! By all means!"
"Much obliged," said Burton, picking up Fidget and climbing in.
The constable followed. "Where to?" he asked.
"Bayham Street, Mornington Crescent! As fast as possible!"
The policeman repeated the address to the driver then shut the door and sat back as the vehicle jerked into motion.
"Constable Yates," he said by way of an introduction. "So what's the story? You both look proper beat up!"
"King's business, Yates! Take a look at this."
Burton took his credentials from his wallet and showed them to the constable.
"Bless me! The king's signature! You're the boss, then, sir. What can I do to help?"
Fishing his notebook out of his pocket, Burton started writing.
"We'll drop you at Scotland Yard," he said. "I want you to deliver this note to Detective Inspector Trounce. I'm recommending an immediate police raid on Battersea Power Station!"
"The Technologist headquarters? That's rather a tall order, if you don't mind me saying so!"
Burton didn't reply, but continued to fill the page with his tiny, cramped handwriting.
The carriage swung eastward onto Grosvenor Road and from there followed the river up via Millbank, past the Houses of Parliament, and on to the Yard. Barely stopping to allow Constable Yates to hop out, it raced on along the Strand, weaving in and out of the traffic, the two horses flecked with sweat, rounded into Kingsway, and continued on up Southampton Row and Eversholt Street. It shot past Mornington Crescent before careening into Bayham Street.
"Here!" shouted Burton as they reached number 3, and he leaped out as the carriage came to a halt. "Wait!"
Striding swiftly to the front door, he gave the bellpull a violent tug and waited impatiently for a response. He was just reaching for it again when the door opened.
"Why, Captain Burton!" exclaimed Widow Wheeltapper. "How nice of you to call!"
"My apologies, ma'am, but there's been an accident. I require Sister Raghavendra's assistance. Is she at home?"
"Oh my! I shall send Polly for her at once!"
Burton stepped into the house and sprang up the stairs, calling back: "Pray don't trouble yourself, my good woman! I'll go!"
"But propriety, Captain! Propriety!" cried the old woman. Her visitor, though, was already halfway to the upper apartment. He was met at the top of the stairs by Sister Raghavendra, who'd come to investigate the commotion.
"Sadhvi!" cried Burton. "I need your help! My friend has been injured! Can you come?"
"At once, Captain!" she said decisively. "A moment!"
She ducked back into her room and emerged a minute later wearing her nurse's bonnet and her jacket, and carrying a carpet bag.
They ran down the stairs and out of the front door, leaving the flustered old widow calling after them: "A chaperone! My goodness, young lady! You haven't a chaperone!"
"Montagu Place, at the double!" commanded Burton as they reached the carriage and clambered in.
The driver cracked his whip and the panting horses set off at a gallop.
Inside the rocking and bumping cabin, Sister Raghavendra examined Swinburne.
"What on earth happened to him?"
"Your