The Innocence of Father Brown | Page 8

soon seated at a late
luncheon at a little table, and looked at the star of smashed glass from the inside. Not that
it was very informative to them even then.
"Got your window broken, I see," said Valentin to the waiter as he paid the bill.
"Yes, sir," answered the attendant, bending busily over the change, to which Valentin
silently added an enormous tip. The waiter straightened himself with mild but
unmistakable animation.
"Ah, yes, sir," he said. "Very odd thing, that, sir."
"Indeed?" Tell us about it," said the detective with careless curiosity.
"Well, two gents in black came in," said the waiter; "two of those foreign parsons that are
running about. They had a cheap and quiet little lunch, and one of them paid for it and
went out. The other was just going out to join him when I looked at my change again and
found he'd paid me more than three times too much. `Here,' I says to the chap who was
nearly out of the door, `you've paid too much.' `Oh,' he says, very cool, `have we?' 'Yes,' I
says, and picks up the bill to show him. Well, that was a knock-out."
"What do you mean?" asked his interlocutor.
"Well, I'd have sworn on seven Bibles that I'd put 4s. on that bill. But now I saw I'd put
14s., as plain as paint."

"Well?" cried Valentin, moving slowly, but with burning eyes, "and then?"
"The parson at the door he says all serene, `Sorry to confuse your accounts, but it'll pay
for the window.' `What window?' I says. `The one I'm going to break,' he says, and
smashed that blessed pane with his umbrella."
All three inquirers made an exclamation; and the inspector said under his breath, "Are we
after escaped lunatics?" The waiter went on with some relish for the ridiculous story:
"I was so knocked silly for a second, I couldn't do anything. The man marched out of the
place and joined his friend just round the corner. Then they went so quick up Bullock
Street that I couldn't catch them, though I ran round the bars to do it."
"Bullock Street," said the detective, and shot up that thoroughfare as quickly as the
strange couple he pursued.
Their journey now took them through bare brick ways like tunnels; streets with few lights
and even with few windows; streets that seemed built out of the blank backs of
everything and everywhere. Dusk was deepening, and it was not easy even for the
London policemen to guess in what exact direction they were treading. The inspector,
however, was pretty certain that they would eventually strike some part of Hampstead
Heath. Abruptly one bulging gas-lit window broke the blue twilight like a bull's-eye
lantern; and Valentin stopped an instant before a little garish sweetstuff shop. After an
instant's hesitation he went in; he stood amid the gaudy colours of the confectionery with
entire gravity and bought thirteen chocolate cigars with a certain care. He was clearly
preparing an opening; but he did not need one.
An angular, elderly young woman in the shop had regarded his elegant appearance with a
merely automatic inquiry; but when she saw the door behind him blocked with the blue
uniform of the inspector, her eyes seemed to wake up.
"Oh," she said, "if you've come about that parcel, I've sent it off already."
"Parcel?" repeated Valentin; and it was his turn to look inquiring.
"I mean the parcel the gentleman left--the clergyman gentleman."
"For goodness' sake," said Valentin, leaning forward with his first real confession of
eagerness, "for Heaven's sake tell us what happened exactly."
"Well," said the woman a little doubtfully, "the clergymen came in about half an hour ago
and bought some peppermints and talked a bit, and then went off towards the Heath. But
a second after, one of them runs back into the shop and says, `Have I left a parcel!' Well,
I looked everywhere and couldn't see one; so he says, `Never mind; but if it should turn
up, please post it to this address,' and he left me the address and a shilling for my trouble.
And sure enough, though I thought I'd looked everywhere, I found he'd left a brown paper
parcel, so I posted it to the place he said. I can't remember the address now; it was
somewhere in Westminster. But as the thing seemed so important, I thought perhaps the

police had come about it."
"So they have," said Valentin shortly. "Is Hampstead Heath near here?"
"Straight on for fifteen minutes," said the woman, "and you'll come right out on the
open." Valentin sprang out of the shop and began to run. The other detectives followed
him at a reluctant trot.
The street they threaded was so narrow