Collected works of j s f.., p.256
Collected Works of J S Fletcher, page 256
“You don’t think it rather remarkable that Mr. Hollis should go down there the very day after he called on you?” asked Starmidge, putting in a question for the first time.
“Why should I?” asked Mr. Stipp. “What do I know about him and his arrangements? He never mentioned Scarnham to me.”
Easleby laid a finger on the marked newspaper.
“You see some names of Scarnham people there, Mr. Stipp?” he observed. “Those names — Horbury — Chestermarke. You don’t happen to know ’em?”
“I don’t know them,” replied the manager, with obvious sincerity. “Banking people, all of them, aren’t they? I might have heard their names, in a business way, some time — but I don’t recall them at all.”
“You said that Mr. Markham was here yesterday,” suggested Starmidge. “Did you tell him — you’ll excuse my asking, but it’s important — did you tell him that Hollis had called last Friday on behalf of Mrs. Lester?”
“I just mentioned it,” replied Mr. Stipp. “He took no particular notice — except to say that what we claim from young Lester will have to be — paid.”
“You don’t know if he knew Hollis?” inquired Starmidge.
The manager shook his head in a fashion which seemed to indicate that Hollis’s case was no particular business of either his or his principal’s.
“I don’t think he did,” he answered. “Never said so, anyhow. But, I say! you’ll excuse me, now — what is it you’re trying to get at? Do you think Hollis went to Scarnham on this business of young Lester’s? And if you do, why?”
Easleby rose, and Starmidge followed his example.
“We don’t know yet — exactly — why Hollis went to Scarnham,” said the elder detective. “We hoped you could help us. But, as you can’t — well, we’re much obliged, Mr. Stipp. That your governor over the chimney-piece there?”
“Taken a few years ago,” replied Mr. Stipp carelessly. “I say — you don’t know what Hollis was empowered to offer us, do you?”
The two detectives looked at each other; a quiet nod from Starmidge indicated that he left it to Easleby to answer this question. And after a moment’s reflection, Easleby spoke.
“Mr. Hollis was empowered to offer ten thousand pounds in full satisfaction, Mr. Stipp,” he said. “And what’s more — a cheque for that amount was found on his dead body when it was discovered. Now, sir, you’ll understand why we want to know who it was that he went to see at Scarnham!”
Both men were watching the money-lender’s manager with redoubled attention. But it needed no very keen eye to see that the surprise which Mr. Stipp had already shown at various stages of the interview was nothing to that which he now felt. And in the midst of his astonishment the two detectives bade him good-day and left him, disregarding an entreaty to stop and tell him more.
“My lad!” said Easleby, when he and Starmidge were out in the street again, “that chap has no more conception that his master is Gabriel Chestermarke than we had — twenty-four hours since — that Gabriel Chestermarke and Godwin Markham are one and the same man. He’s a clever chap, this Gabriel — and now you can see how important it’s been for him to keep his secret. What’s next to be done? We ought to keep in touch with him from now.”
“I’m expecting word from Gandam at noon at headquarters,” answered Starmidge, who had already told Easleby of the visit of the previous night. “Let’s ride down there and hear if any message has come in.”
But as their taxi-cab turned out of Whitehall into New Scotland Yard they overtook Gandam, hurrying along. Starmidge stopped the cab and jumped out.
“Any news?” he asked sharply.
“He’s off, Mr. Starmidge!” replied Gandam. “I’ve just come straight from watching him away. He left his house about nine-twenty, walked to the St. John’s Wood Station, went down to Baker Street, and on to King’s Cross Metropolitan. We followed him, of course. He walked across to St. Pancras, and left by the ten-thirty express.”
“Did you manage to find out where he booked for!” demanded Starmidge.
“Ecclesborough,” answered Gandam. “Heard him! I was close behind.”
“He was alone, I suppose?” asked Starmidge.
“Alone all the time, Mr. Starmidge,” assented Gandam. “Never saw a sign of the other party.”
Starmidge rejoined Easleby. For the last twenty-four hours he had let his companion supervise matters, but now, having decided on a certain policy, he took affairs into his own hands.
“Now, then,” he said, “he’s off — back to Scarnham. A word or two at the office, Easleby, and I’m after him. And you’ll come with me.”
CHAPTER XXVI
THE LIGHTNING FLASH
AT HALF-PAST SEVEN that evening Starmidge and Easleby stepped out of a London express at Ecclesborough, and walked out to the front of the station to get a taxi-cab for Scarnham. The newsboys were rushing across the station square with the latest editions of the evening papers, and Starmidge’s quick ear caught the meaning of their unfamiliar North-country shoutings.
“Latest about the Scarnham mystery,” he said, stopping a lad and taking a couple of papers from him. “Something about the adjourned inquest — of course that would be today. Now then — what’s this?”
He drew aside to a quiet corner of the station portico, and with his companion looking over his shoulder, read aloud a passage from the latest of the two papers.
“‘An important witness gave evidence this afternoon at the adjourned inquest held at Scarnham on the body of Mr. Frederick Hollis, solicitor, of London, who was recently found lying dead at the bottom of one of the old lead-mines in Ellersdeane Hollow. It will be remembered that the circumstances of this discovery — already familiar to our readers — allied with the mysterious disappearance of Mr. John Horbury, and the presumed theft of the Countess of Ellersdeane’s jewels, seem to indicate an extraordinary crime, and opinion varies considerably in the Scarnham district as to whether Mr. Hollis — the reason of whose visit to Scarnham is still unexplained — fell into the old mine by accident, or whether he was thrown in.
“‘At the beginning of the proceedings this afternoon, a shepherd named James Livesey, of Ellersdeane, employed by Mr. Marchant, farmer, of the same place, was immediately called. He stated in answer to questions put by the Coroner, that on Monday morning last he had gone with his employer to an out-of-the-way part of Northumberland to buy new stock, and in consequence of his absence from home had not heard of the Scarnham affair until his return this morning, when, on Mr. Marchant’s advice, he had at once called on the Coroner’s office to volunteer information.
“‘Livesey’s evidence, in brief, was as follows: At nine o’clock last Saturday evening, he was walking home from Scarnham to Ellersdeane by a track which crosses the Hollow, and cuts into the high road between the town and the village at a point near the Warren, an isolated house which is the private residence of Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke, banker, of Scarnham. As he reached this point, he saw Mr. John Horbury, whom he knew very well by sight, accompanied by a stranger, come out of the Hollow by another path, cross the high road, and walk down the lane which leads to the Warren. They were talking very earnestly, but Mr. Horbury saw him and said good-night in answer to his own greeting. There was a strong moonlight at the time, and he saw the stranger’s face clearly. He was quite sure that the stranger was the dead man whose body had just been shown to him at the mortuary.
“‘Questioned further, Livesey positively adhered to all his statements. He was certain of the time; certain of the identity of the two gentlemen. He knew Mr. Horbury very well indeed; had known him for many years; Mr. Horbury had often talked to him when they met in the fields and lanes of the neighbourhood. He had no doubt at all that the dead man he had seen in the mortuary was the gentleman who was with Mr. Horbury on Saturday night. He had noticed him particularly as the two gentlemen passed him, and had wondered who he was. The moon was very bright that night: he saw Mr. Hollis quite plainly: he would have known him again at any time. He was positive that the two gentlemen entered the lane which led to Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke’s house. They were evidently making a direct line for it when he first saw them, and they crossed the high road straight to its entrance. That lane led nowhere else than to the Warren — it was locally called the lane, but it was really a sort of carriage-drive to Mr. Chestermarke’s front door, and there was a gate at the high-road entrance to it. He saw Mr. Horbury and his companion enter that gate; he heard it clash behind them.
“‘Questioned by Mr. Polke, superintendent of police at Scarnham, Livesey said that when he first saw the two gentlemen they were coming from the direction of Ellersdeane Tower. There was a path right across the Hollow, from a point in front of the Warren, to the Tower, and thence to the woods on the Scarnham side. That was the path the two gentlemen were on. He was absolutely certain about the time, for two reasons. Just before he saw Mr. Horbury and his companion, he heard the clock at Scarnham Parish Church strike nine, and after they had passed him he had gone on to the Green Archer public-house, and had noticed that it was ten minutes past nine when he entered. Further questioned, he said he saw no one else on the Hollow but the two gentlemen.
“‘At the conclusion of Livesey’s evidence, the Coroner announced to the jury that, having had the gist of the witness’s testimony communicated to him earlier in the day, he had sent his officer to request Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke’s attendance. The officer, however, had returned to say that Mr. Chestermarke was away on business, and that it was not known when he would be back at the bank. As it was highly important that the jury should know at once if Mr. Horbury and Mr. Hollis called at the Warren on Saturday evening last, he, the Coroner, had sent for Mr. Chestermarke’s butler, who would doubtless be able to give information on that point. They would adjourn for an hour until the witness attended.’”
“That’s the end of it — in that paper,” remarked Starmidge. “Let’s see if the other has any later news. Ah! — here we are! — there is more in the stop press space of this one. Now then — —”
He held the second newspaper half in front of himself, half in front of Easleby, and again rapidly read over the report.
“‘Scarnham — further adjournment. On the Coroner’s inquiry being resumed at four o’clock, Thomas Beavers, butler to Mr. Chestermarke at the Warren, said that so far as he knew, Mr. Horbury did not call on his master on Saturday evening last, nor did any gentleman call who answered the description of Mr. Hollis. It was impossible for anybody to call at the Warren, in the ordinary way, without his, the butler’s, knowledge. As a matter of fact, the witness continued, Mr. Chestermarke was not at home during the greater part of that evening. Mr. Joseph Chestermarke had dined at the Warren at seven o’clock, and at half-past eight he and his uncle left the house together. Mr. Chestermarke did not return until eleven. Asked by Mr. Polke, superintendent of police, if he knew in which direction Mr. Gabriel and Mr. Joseph Chestermarke proceeded when they went away, the witness said that a short time after they left the house, he, in drawing the curtains of the dining-room window, saw them walking in a side-path of the garden, apparently in close conversation. He saw neither of them after that until Mr. Gabriel Chestermarke returned home, alone, at the time he had mentioned.
“‘Later. The inquest was further adjourned at the close of this afternoon’s proceedings. Before adjourning, the Coroner informed the jury that he understood there were rumours in the town to the effect that Mr. Hollis had been strangled before being thrown into the old lead-mine. He need hardly say that there were not the slightest grounds for those rumours. But the medical men had some suspicion that the unfortunate gentleman might have been poisoned, and he, the Coroner, thought it well to tell them that a specialist was being sent down by the Home Office, who, with the Scarnham doctors, would perform an autopsy on his arrival. The result would be placed before the jury when these proceedings were resumed.’”
Starmidge dropped the paper and looked at Easleby with an expression of astonishment.
“Poison!” he exclaimed. “That’s a new idea! Poisoned first! — and thrown into that old mine after? That’s — but, there, what’s the good of theorizing? Pick out the best of those cars, and let’s get to Scarnham as quick as possible. Something’s got to be done tonight.”
Easleby made no immediate answer. But presently, when they were in a fast motor and leaving the Ecclesborough streets behind them, he shook his head, and spoke more gravely than was usual with him.
“The big question, my lad,” he said, “is — what to do? And there’s another — what’s been done — and possibly, what’s being done? It’s my impression something’s being done now — still going on!”
“I know one thing!” exclaimed Starmidge determinedly. “We’ll confront Gabriel Chestermarke tonight with what we know. That’s positive!”
“If we can find him,” said Easleby. “You don’t know! The coming down to Ecclesborough may have been all a blind. You can reach a lot of places from Ecclesborough — and you can leave a train at more than one place between Ecclesborough and London.”
“I telephoned Polke to keep an eye on him, anyway, if he did arrive at either Scarnham or the Warren,” answered Starmidge, still grimly determined. “And it’s my impression that he has come down — to see that nephew of his. Easleby! — they’re both in at it. Both!”
Again the elder detective made no answer. He was obviously much impressed by the recent developments as related in the newspapers which they had just read, and was deep in thought about them and the possibilities which they suggested to him.
“Well!” he said at last, as the high roofs of Scarnham came in view, “we’ll hear what Polke has to tell. Something may have happened since those inquest proceedings this afternoon.”
But Polke, when they reached his office, had little to tell. Lord Ellersdeane, Betty Fosdyke, and Stephen Hollis were with him, evidently in consultation, and Starmidge at once saw that Betty looked distressed and anxious in no ordinary degree. All turned eagerly on the two detectives. But Starmidge addressed himself straight to Polke with one direct inquiry.
“Seen him? — heard of him?” he asked.
“Not a word!” answered Polke. “Nor a sign! If he came down by that train you spoke of, he ought to have been in the town by four o’clock at the outside. But he’s never been to the bank, and he certainly hadn’t arrived at his house three-quarters of an hour ago. And since ten o’clock this morning t’other’s disappeared, too!”
“What — Joseph?” exclaimed Starmidge.
“Just so!” replied Polke, with the expression of a man who feels that things are getting too much for individual effort, “He was at the bank at eight o’clock this morning — one of my men saw him go in by the back way — orchard way, you know. The clerks say he went out — that way again — at ten, and he’s never been seen since.”
“His house!” said Starmidge. “Have you tried that?”
“Know nothing of him there — the old man and old woman said so, at any rate,” answered Polke. “He seems to have cleared out. And now here’s fresh bother, though I don’t know if it’s anything to do with this. Mr. Neale’s missing — never been seen since six yesterday evening. Miss Fosdyke’s anxious — —”
“He was to see me at nine last night,” said Betty. “No one has seen him. His landlady says he never returned home last night. Do you think anything can have happened — —”
“If anything’s happened to Mr. Neale,” interrupted Starmidge, “it’s all of a piece with the rest of it. Now, superintendent!” he went on, turning to Polke, “never mind what news I’ve brought — we’ve got to find these two Chestermarkes at once! We must go, some of us, to the Warren, some to the Cornmarket. See here! — Easleby and I will go on to the Cornmarket now — you get some of your men and follow. If we hear nothing there — then, the Warren. But — quick!”
The two detectives hurried out of the police-station; Lord Ellersdeane and Betty, after a word or two with Polke, followed. Outside, Starmidge and Easleby paused a moment, consulting; the Earl stepped forward to speak to them.
“As regards Mr. Neale,” he began, “Miss Fosdyke thinks you ought to know that — —”
A sudden searching flash, as of lightning, glared across the open space in front, lighting up the tower of the old church, the high roofs of the ancient houses, and the drifting clouds above them. Then a crash as of terrible thunder shook the little town from end to end, and as it died away the street lamps went out, and the tinkle of falling glass sounded on the pavements of the Market-Place. And in the second of dead silence which followed, a woman’s voice, shrill, terrified, shrieked loudly, once, somewhere in the darkness.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE OLD DOVE-COT
ON THE PREVIOUS evening, Wallington Neale, who had spent most of the day with Betty Fosdyke, endeavouring to gain some further light on the disappearance of her uncle, had left her at eight o’clock in order to keep a business appointment. He was honourary treasurer of the Scarnham Cricket Club: the weekly meeting of the committee of which important institution was due that night at the Hope and Anchor Inn, an old tavern in the Cornmarket. Thither Neale repaired, promising to rejoin Betty at nine o’clock. There was little business to be done at the meeting: by a quarter to nine it was all over and Neale was going away. And as he walked down the long sanded passage which led from the committee-room to the front entrance of the inn, old Rob Walford, the landlord, came out of the bow-windowed bar-parlour, beckoned him, with a mystery-suggesting air, to follow, and led him into a private room, the door of which he carefully closed.
Walford, a shrewd-eyed, astute old fellow, well known in Scarnham for his business abilities and his penetration, chiefly into other people’s affairs, looked at Neale with a mingled expression of meaning and inquiry.
