SergeantSirPeter

BYEdgarWallace

SERGEANTSIRPETER

CHAPTERI

PETERDUNNwalked into his grandfather's study inBerkeleySquare, andtheoldmanscowledupathimfromoverhisgold-rimmedpince-nez.

This was in the year '18. when the street lampswere painted black so thatwandering German aeroplanes should not be quite sure whether they wereoverBerkeleySquare,orHydePark,andwhenMaryleboneRoadwasall lituplikePiccadillytoattractenemybombs—happily,Marylebonedidnotknowthis.

Petermetthescowlwithalargesmile.

"Nogood roastingme, sir. I'mnot going to arguewith youor say anything

unpleasant about the Germans—I've been fighting 'em and they're prettysporting...."

"Don't letusdiscuss it," saidSirLesliewithdangerouscalm."Whatdoyouwant?"

"Well, sir—I've left thearmyand I'venomoneyandnoequipmentexceptaknowledgeofhumanweakness.ThankGod,sir. I've lived longenoughwithyou—"

"Don'tletusquarrel,"SirLeslie'scalmwaspre-typhonic.

Petersmiledhappily.

"Well, thepoint is this,sir—I'vegotnoprofessionandnooccupationexceptgettingmylegX-rayedtofindoddhitsofshrap,andIthought,nowthatthelastofthehardwarewasoutofmysystem,Imightaswelldosomething."

SirLeslieremovedhisglasseswithoffensivedeliberation.Hewasatall,sparemanwithagauntfaceandthepalestblueeyes.

"Andyouwantmetofinanceyouinamotor-carbusiness....orisitapoultryfarm?"Hisvoicewas silky—buta sortofhard silk. "Orpossiblyyouandafew other optimists are thinking of ranching in Canada? A pleasantoccupation:ridingexpensivehorseflesharoundawildernesslookingfornewfacesamongstyourcalves."

Peter'sgrinbroadened.

"Yououghttowriteabook,sir?"hesaidadmiringly."You'vegotimaginationandastyle!"

"Letusconfineourselvestorealities,"saidSirLeslie,notwhollydispleased:"and to simplify matters let me say that I am allowing you five hundredpounds per annum.Beyond that Iwill not go.You have a certain spuri ousglamourbecauseyouwereshotintheleg.Amanatmycluboncereferredtoyou,emotionally,asahero.Idon'tthinkyouareahero,YouarewhattheycallinAmericaanit-wit.EverytimeIseeyouIregretthatIacceptedabaronetcyfromthisdamnGovernment—"

"Let's keep politics out of it." said Peter cheerfully. "I'm going to be apoliceman."

SirLesliesurveyedhimdispassionately.

"Awhatman?"heasked.

"A copper." said Peter. "You know—the blokes who wear helmets and trydoorsandruninoldgentlemenwhogetchuckedoutoftheEmpire."

Sir Leslie winced. It had happened nearly thirty years before. And he wascertainlynotoldthen.

"Haveyouanyrespectinyoursystem?"heasked.

"Nonewhatever.You'reagrouchydevilandI'mveryfondofyou.ButIdon'trespectyou.You'renotharmlessenoughtoberespected.Nowwhataboutit—doIlosethatmonkey?"

"If you refer to the five hundred a year—no," said Sir Leslie. "I don't carewhetheryou'reapolicemanorapostman.Iwasperfectlysureyou'dgetajobwhere the unfortunate taxpayer would have to provide your salary. Goodnight,Peter."

"Cheerio!"saidPeter,andwentout.

Eightyearslateralmosttotheday,DetectiveSergeantPeterDunncameintotheofficeoftheAssistantCommissionerandaddressedhimfamiliarly.IthadtakenvariousofficersoftheMetropolitanPoliceForceallthoseeightyearstoaccustomthemselvestoPeter'sfriendliness.Quiteanumberdecidedtoremainunaccustomed, and, if his reprimands from outraged superiors had not beenweighed down in the balance by the awards and commendations ofmagistratesand judges,hewouldhaveremainedplainConstableDunn.Andthatnotlong.

"Sorrytobotheryou,sir,butI'minratherahole—bytheway,thatBridlingtoncase is cleared up: we took the son-in-law of the murdered woman thismorningandhemadeatrueandpenitentconfession.Nothirddegree,Iassureyou—justalittlepersuasionofthegentlestkind."

TheCommissionerpointedtoachair.

"Sitdown,Peter—what'sthetrouble?"

Peter frowned and shook his head. He was very tall and fair and young-looking,broadofshoulderandlong-legged.Hewasthetypethatsingsinitsbath andwalks as if on springs.As a constable he had taken to the station,unassisted, Wilfred Lamb, a notorious beater of policemen, wives andmiscellaneouscitizens.And thedivisional surgeonworked through thenightlike a sempstress, putting stitches into Wilfred where and as they wererequired.

"My grandfather's dead—good old boy. Got tight on vintage port and fell

down the stairs. A glorious death. I believe he has left me a quarter of amillion—and the baronetcy. I could keep very quiet about the quarter of amillion,butthebaronetcyisalabel—Ican'tduckit.'SergeantSirPeter'istoosilly, so I'll have to clear out. And after all the amazing knowledge I'veaccumulated—it'sadeadwaste."

TheCommissionernodded.

"Yourchiefcharmisyourimmodesty,"hesaid."YetforonceI'minsympathywith you. You are a brilliant policeman and I don't know how we'll findsomebodytotakeyourplace.I'llseetheChiefandtrytowanglesomething."

Aweek laterDetectiveSergeant Sir PeterDunnwas passed to theReserve.AndfromtimetotimehewascalledtoNewScotlandYardtoassistincertaininvestigations,receivingforhisservicesfeeswhichaboutpaidthelicenceonhis20h.p.Rollsandleftalittleoverforcigarettes.

PeterknewDr.LalSingh.Hehadprosecutedhimonceforobtainingmoneybyatrickandhadfailedtosecureaconviction.Thedoctorwasalittle,round-facedIndianwithaLondondegreeandnopractice.Hewasacleversurgeon,oneofthecleverestthathadpassedthroughSt.Giles'Hospital,buttherewasaprejudiceagainsthiscolour,andmenofhisownraceavoidedhimbecausehehadasharptongueandaninvincibleweaknessforbeingpaidinadvanceforhisservices.HelivedinlodgingsnearGowerStreetandhadhissurgeryinaslumofftheEdgwareRoad,

Undoubtedly he could have made, by certain illicit practices, quite a largeincome,buthewassuperiortotheimportunitiesofdopepeddlersandothers.Possibly he took up clairvoyance to save himself from starvation. This hepractised first at his lodgings, hiring a sitting-room for his séances, andafterwardsinaBayswaterflat,Formoneybegantocometohiminrespectablequantities,andhewasabletorentandfurnishanapartmentnearWestbourneGrove.

Hither camemany ladiesof societyand ladieswhowerenot in society, andmembersoftheyoungersetwhohadbeentoldhowperfectlymarvellousthisseerwas.AndDr.Lalgazedintocrystalsandsawtall,fairmenwholovedhisclients, and short, dark women who were working to rob them of theirhusbands. And he told the discontented young matrons that they would bemarriedtwiceandhavetwochildren,aboyandagirl,andwouldbeshortlygoingonalongjourneywhichwouldbringthemgreatprofit.Onedayatall,fairmancalledonDr.Lalandwastoldthathewouldinheritatitleandavastsumofmoney."Howthedevildidyouknowthat?"askedtheastonishedPeter.

"Recognition of distinguished police official and private knowledge of

circumstances,"explainedDr.Lal,showinghiswhiteteethinasmile.

Itwashis jest toape the styleofhis less educatedcompatriots.HedroppedintogoodEnglishnow.

"Idonotchargeformyservices,sergeant,"hesaid,andwavedhispodgyhandto a side tablenear thedoor.On thiswas a largeboxofBenaresbrass, andaboveitasmallprintednotice:

"NochargeismadebyDr.LalSinghforhisdemonstrations.Moneyplacedinthisboxwillbedistributedtosuchcharitiesoremployedforsuchpurposesashemaydetermine."

The prosecutionwhich followedwas none of Peter's business.He had beendetailedforadutywhichhecarriedoutgladly,forhewastheYard'sauthorityonHumanWeaknessandwasatowerofstrengthtotheModusOperandi(or,astheycallit,"M.O.")department.

Heratherlikedthelittledoctor,andwasgladwhentheprosecutioncollapsed.AfterthecasehewentdowntoBayswaterandhadatalkwithDr.Lal.

"Idon'twanttogobacktoIndia.IhavehundredsofloathfulrelationsandtotellyouthetruthIamnotpersonagratawiththerulingpoliticalorganisationinIndia.Ishouldbeboycottedandhumbugged.Herethereisopportunityforbrainymanevenifhandicappedbyexcessivecolour."

"Whatwillyoudonow?"askedPeter,

Therecameastrangegleamtothebrowneyesofthedoctor,andhetappedhisnosewithacopperyfinger.

"I have a truly brain-turning idea! It requires capitalistic help, but, what asuccess ispromisedifproject issatisfactorilypursued!Myskill,mystudies,thepoetryofmyimagination—”

"Areyougoingtobeabookmaker?"askedtheinterestedPeter,but thelittledoctordidnotrevealhisdream.

"Moneycanbemadewithcelerity,"hesaidearnestly."Ishallappealtocertainhuman emotions—themost prevalent ambition in the bosom ofmankind! Ican do this thing better than anyman, and for obvious reasons.As a boy Ienjoyed the dubious advantage of associationwith certainmagical fakirs ofIndia,Someoftheirdeedsweresomuchnonsenseandchicanery.Ontheotherhand,therewaswheatamidstthechaffoftheirso-calledknowledge.Isetyouapuzzle,mister!Disintegratethesame!"

Theclairvoyantbusiness languishedafter thisbutalthough the frugaldoctorsolduphisfurnitureandlethisflat,Petersuspectedthatpovertyhadnothingtodowiththeflit.SoonafterDr.LaiclosedhissurgeryinEdgwareRoad,andthe next thing Peter heard about himwas that he had drawn a prize in theCalcuttaSweepstakes,somesixorseventhousandpounds.Peterwonderedifhewouldexploithisbrain-turningideanowthathehadcapitalistichelp.

AllthiswasancienthistorywhentherecametoScotlandYardthreeinquiriesconcerningtheLostCityMen.PetercameupfromSouthamptoninresponsetoanurgentwireandinterviewedtheChiefConstable.

"Iwantyou to take this case,Peter." said the chief. "Youwill benominallyunderCrowther,butyou'llhaveafreehand.Herearethefacts."

The first fact was Thomas Henry Middlethall, of Middlethall, Merton &Payne,silkmerchantsoftheCityofLondon.

Mr. Middlethall was a rich bachelor who lived in Fitzjohn's Avenue,Hampstead.Hewasamanoffifty-six,withartistictastes,andwaswellknownintheatricalcircles.Hehadfinancedoneortwomusicalshows,wastobeseenin the more sedate of night clubs, and on these occasions generallyaccompaniedaprettyyoungactress.Itwasnotalwaysthesamelady.

Hehad left his house one day, saying hewould be awaynotmore than tendays.Amonth,twomonthshadpassedandhehadnotreturned.Aletterhadbeenreceivedby,hispartners,writteninhisownhand,sayingthatheintendedtakingalongerholiday,andaskingifhemightbespared.FourweeksafterhisdisappearancetherewasacurioushappeninginFitzjohn'sAvenue.

Itwas aWednesdaynight, andof the four servantshe employed threewereabsent from thehouse.OnWednesdayshe invariablygave three servantsanafternoonandaneveningoff.

The servant inchargeof thehousewasamiddle-agedhousemaid, awomannamedKeating.Shewasnotintheservants'hall,wheresheshouldhavebeen,butinalittleroomopeningfromthefirstlandingattheheadofthestairs.Itwas, in fact, Mr. Middlethall's private snuggery, and there were certainforbiddenbooksonhisbookshelfwhichitwastheambitionofhisservantstoread.Thesewerebehindalockedgrillefastenedtothefrontofthebookcase,butPetergatheredoninvestigationthatthegrillecouldbeopenedveryeasily,andeveryservant in turnhadprofitedbyhisabsence tosample thevolumesprinted"forprivatecirculationonly"wheneveropportunityoffered.

Engrossedasshewas,sheheardthesoundofakeyturningintheouterdoor,butthoughtitwasthecookreturninganddidnotstopreading.Presentlyshe

heardanothersound—anotherkeywasbeing turned.This time itcouldonlybeinthelockofMr.Middlethall'sstudy.

Very alarmed, she put down her book and, opening the door, listened. Sheheardnothing,andgainingcourage,shewentoutontothelanding.Therewasadim light burning in thehall.Mr.Middlethallwas conservative enough tousegasasanilluminant.

Asshelookedoverthebanistersshesawamanemergefromthestudy.Atfirstshe thought itwasMr.Middlethall.Thatgentlemanof apeculiarmethodofdressingwhich bordered upon the eccentric. She recognised the rather longjacket and the shepherd's plaid trousers—but the wearer was not Mr.Middlethall.Hewasamuchyoungerman,andthinner.

Toohorrified to scream, shestoodmotionlessandwatched the intruderpassintothestreet.Fromwhereshestoodshecouldseethroughthefanlightacarwaiting outside.He had hardly disappeared from viewwhen the carmovedoff.

Miss Keating seems to have shown a presence of mind rare in suchcircumstances. She called up the police station, and in a few minutes wastellingherstorytothedivisionalinspector.Thestudyhadbeenleftunlocked,oneofthedeskdrawershadbeenopenedand,onthefloor,theinspectorfounda long envelope, the red wax seal of which was broken. It had obviouslycontainedanewcheque-bookpostedfromMr.Middlethall'sbank.Thepoliceinstantlycommunicatedwith thebank, traced thechequenumbers,andgaveinstructionsthatnochequetakenfromthisbookshouldbehonoured.

Thistookalittletime,asdidtheinterviewingofgeneralmanagers,andbeforethe stoporderwent forth the first of the cheques hadbeen cashed at aCitybranchofthebank.ApparentlyMr.Middlethallhadanarrangementwherebyhischequescouldbecashedatanyof fourbranches.Thechequewas inhishandwriting and it was indubitably his signature. Petermade amicroscopicexamination, and the result left no doubt in his mind that this was not aforgery.

ThenextdaybroughtaletterfromMr.Middlethall,obviouslywritteninsomehaste,withnoevidencethatithadinanywaybeendictated.Itwasaddressedtothemanagerof thebank,andorderedthatfunctionarytocashanychequenotexceedingfivehundredpoundsatintervalsnotshorterthanafortnightthatmightbedrawnonhisaccount.itboreaLondonpostmark—S.E.I.

"That'sgenuinetoo,"saidPeter.interviewinghisimmediatesuperior.

"He may have been kidnapped and kept a prisoner somewhere," suggested

Crowther.

Petershookhishead.

"Youcan'tmistakeitforanythingbutwhatitis—anotewrittenspontaneously.Lookatthespellingmistakesandtheoverlining,"

"Has he drawn any cheques since he's been away?" asked the puzzledinspector.

Thiswas oneof the first inquiriesPeter hadmade. "None," he said. "That'soneofthecuriousfeaturesofthecase."

It was on that day that the story of the second disappearance came toheadquarters.ThistimeitwasaMr.GeorgeGrives,aneminentsolicitorintheCityofLondon,aclubman,andsomethingofabonvivant.Inmanyrespectshis history ran on parallel lines with that of Mr. Middlethall. He also wassomething of a ladies' man, and had once figured in a case which nearlyresultedinhisbeingstruckofftherolls.HehadaflatintheWestEnd,whereheentertainedextensively.Hewassomethingofadandy.

Hehadlefthisoffice,tellinghismanagingclerkthathewasgoingtoAixforaten-days cure.On the tenth day the clerk received a telegram, handed in atLondon, tellinghim thatMr.Griveshad returnedbutwas leaving that nightagainforAix.

Nothingwasthoughtofthematteruntilthemanagingclerkmentionedthefactcasually to a City detectivewho had called tomake inquiries concerning acaseoffraudulentconversion.Theofficerreportedtohischief;thenewswastelephoned toScotlandYard;andwithinanhourPeterwas in theoffice.Helearnednothing,except thatMr.Griveshadaveryclose friend,oneCharlesWilliam Sedeman, a wholesale provision merchant, with a warehouse andofficeinTooleyStreet.

"He'llprobablyknowmoreaboutMr.GrivesthananymaninLondon.Ireallydon't think there's anythingwrong,Mr.Dunn." (Peterwas always knownas"Mister"inthecourseofhisinquiries.)"Veryprobablythegovernorhas...."

ItisnotnecessarytorepeatthelibelloussuggestionofMr.Grives'managingclerk.He spoke fromknowledge, and had awide experience of hismiddle-agedemployer's flightiness. It struckPeterasaverypossiblesolution,ashewasdriving,toTooleyStreet.

Mr.Sedemanwasnotinhisoffice,andwasunlikelytoreturnthatday.

"CanIseehissecretary?"askedPeter.

Itwas a long timebefore admissionwasgained to this important official, apallid young man with large horn-rimmed spectacles, who spoke ratherprecisely.

"Mr.Sedeman?Iamafraidyouwon'tbeabletoseehim.Mr.—ah—Dunn.Mr.Sedemanis takingaholiday.Theworkherehasbeenveryheavyin thepastsix months. You probably know what happened to the bacon market inMarch,"

Peternotonlydidnotknow,butwasnotawarethatbaconhadamarket.Hewasinterestedtolearnthatbaconhadbeendoingthingswhichhadsprinkledtheheadsofmanyprovisionmerchantswithlargesilverthreads.

"I didn't know bacon did that sort of thing—not good bacon." said Peter."WhereisMr.Sedemanstaying—hashegonetoAix?"

Thesecretaryhesitated.

"Well...."hesaidratherreluctantly,"originallyMr.Sedemanwentawayfortendays—"

"Eh?"Peterstaredathim."Tendays?Was thathisoriginal intention?Whendidheleave?"

The secretary gave him a date. It was five days after the departure of thelawyer.

"Andwhathappened?"askedthedetective.

'Hedecidedtoextendhisholidayforanothermonth."

"Didhetelegraphyoutothateffect?"

Theyoungmanwasobviouslyuncomfortable.

"Well,no,tobeexacthedidn't.HesentaletterbyaMessenger,whoaskedmeifIwouldsendMr.Sedeman'schequebook.Bytheway,hewassupposedtobestayingatBognor,butIhavereasontobelieveheneverwentthere.That,however,isamatterwhichisnotquitemybusiness,anditisoutsidemydutiestomake inquiriesas toMr.Sedeman'sdestination.Themessengerbroughtaletter.andinfaceoftheorderIcoulddonomorethangivehim,inasealedenvelope.Mr.Sedeman'sprivatecheque-book.Whatmadeitsoqueerwashiscolour."

"Themessenger'scolour?"askedPeterquickly,"Washedark?"

"Hewasverydark,"saidtheyounggentlemaninahushedvoice!"infact,he

wasanIndian."

It was only at that moment that Peter connected Dr. Lal Singh with thismysterious transaction. He described the little doctor faithfully, took thesecretarywithhimtoScotlandYard,andthereproduced,fromhisownprivatecollection, a photograph of the clairvoyant surgeon, He was instantlyidentified,andacallwascirculatedthroughLondonandtheprovinces.askingforinformationconcerningthewhereaboutsofthissometimeseer.

The secretary was able to furnish Peter with a photograph of the vanishedSedeman, and later that day this was supplemented by photographs of theothermissingmen.Peterexaminedthemcriticallyinthepresenceofhischief.

"They're not exactly oil paintings, are they? Wicked old devils, I shouldimagine."

"Why did they all decide to go away for ten days, and extend their stay?"frownedCrowther."Thattomeistheoddestpartofthebusiness.Aretheyallbachelors?"

"OnlyMiddlethall.Theothertwoarebenedicts."

"Happilymarried?"askedCrowther.

"Yes—they'relivingapart.IverybadlywanttomeetLalSingh,"hesaidafteramoment'sthought."Ihaveanideahe'sgoingtotellmesomethingthatwillgivemealaugh."

InspectorCrowthersmiledgrimly.

"If you find these birds in the river with their throats cut you won't he soamused."

"I'mnotsosure,"saidPeter."Itdoesn'ttakemuchtomakemelaugh."

ThefollowingdaytheManchesterpolicesentthroughaninquiry.Mr.Pinchin,awealthycotton-broker,hadbeenmissingfromhishomefortwomonths.Hishomewas thebesthotel inManchester,wherehemaintainedpermanently asuiteofrooms.Itwasnotunusualforhimtogoawayformonthsatatime:infact,hehadoftengonetoAmericawithlittleornowarningtohisoffice.Sothat when he did not return at the appointed time, the office was notparticularlyworried.itwastheslackestperiodoftheyear,mostoftheofficestaff were on holiday, and the police were not notified until the bankquestionedachequefor£400whichhadbeenpresentedandpaid.Inthiscasethe broker had left no address, given no clue to his destination. The onlycertain thingwas thathe'd left forLondon, afterwhichall traceofhimwas

lost.Hedidnotgotothehotelwhereheusuallystayedwhenhewasintown,norwasheseenbyhisLondonagent.Like theother three,hehadvanishedintotheearth.

PeterwentuptoManchesterbythefirstavailabletrain,andsawMr.Pinchin'saccountant,whoapparentlywasprivy toall thebroker'ssecrets.Thevisit toManchesterwasnotwhollyunproductive.Peterlearnedthat,thedaybeforehedisappeared,Mr.Pinchinhadverycarefullycutoutanadvertisement fromaLondonnewspaper.Hehadbeen interrupted in theact andhad shownsomeconfusion.andhadorderedtheinterrupter,whowasanofficeboy,outoftheroom.

Againthedetectivemanagedtosecureaphotographofthemissingman,

"Itis,"saidPeter,describingthephototohischiefoverthe'phone,"thefaceofonewhohaswarmedbothhandsinthefiresoflifeandgotslightlyscorched.WillyougetmeacopyoftheMegaphonefortheeighteenthofJuly,andhaveitwaitingformewhenIarrive?"

HereachedLondon,tolearnthatnewshadbeenreceivedofDr.LaiShrub.Amanufacturing,chemisthadreceivedfromhimanorderforaverydeadlyandlittleknownIndiandrug,andthishadbeensuppliedandforwardedtowhatthepolice afterwards discoveredwas an accommodation address. The drug hadbeencollectedbythedoctorpersonally.Itwasnotthefirsttimesuchanorderhadbeenreceivedbythechemist,InhisbooksPetertracednolessthanfivedeliveriesinasmanymonths.

Thecopyofthenewspaperherequireddidnotarriveuntillatethatnight,andPetersatuptilltwoinmorning,readingadvertisementsonebyone,andtryingtofindinthemacertainsinistersignificance.

Hemadehisdiscoveryintheearlyhoursofthemorning,andwroteacarefullywordedletteronasheetofnotepaperbearinghisownprivateaddress.Andallthetimehewrotehelaughed,oncesoviolentlythatheblottedthesheetbeforehimandhadtomakeanewstart.

Ananswertohislettercamethefollowingevening(Peterhadusedthenameofhisbutler),andearlyonehotsummermorning,PeterDunn took train forBarnhamJunction,whichisinSussex.

Heexpected to find the littledoctoron theplatform,but insteadhe foundaveryattractiveandcapableyoungwoman.

"AreyouMr.Herberts?"sheasked."Thedoctorhassentthecarforyou."

Therewasa little two-seateroutsidethestation; thegirlseatedherselfat the

wheel and invited him beside her. Half-an-hour's drive through the mostdelightfulscenerybrought themtoarather imposingvillawhichwashiddenfromtheroadbyhighboxhedges,carefullytrimmed.Theypassedthroughthegate and up the drive, and there under the portico,waiting to receive them,was themost urbane of Indian doctors,wearing a spotlesswhite jacket andrubbinghishandsinanticipationofnewrevenue.

HesawPeterandhisjawdropped;butherecoveredhimselfinstantly.

"If youwill accompanyme tomy sanctum sanctorum" he said, notwithoutdignity,"explanationscanbeoffered."

"No explanation is necessary. I want to see three or four gentlemen who Ipresumearelivinginthishouse,andwhoseabsenceiscausingtheirfriendsalittleanxiety,"saidPeter.

Thedoctorhesitated,then,walkingquicklyahead,heturnedthecornerofthehouseontoabroadlawn.

Fourmenwereplayingbridgeinarusticsummer-house.andthoughPeterhadseenthephotographsofall,hecouldrecognisenone.

"Here'stheadvertisement,"PeterpusheditacrossthetabletoChiefInspectorCrowther,andthebigmanfixedhisglassesandread.

"ForMenOnly.Why be plain through life? In ten days I can changemostunconvincingcountenancestothemostyouthfulvisage.Consultmesecretly."

Theaddressofanadvertisingagencyfollowed.

"That is all there is to it," said Peter. "These fellows went in for a beautytreatment—astartofbloodlessfacelifting.I'venodoubtLalSinghaddedtohissurgicalknowledgeafewthingshe'dlearntinIndia.ThetroublewithLalSinghwasthathewasajollysighttoosuccessful!I'veseenthesefellows,andthe change is amazing—so amazing, that they dared not go straight back totheir circles of friends, for fear theywere not recognised. Dr. Lal has beencomplaining bitterly of their ingratitude. With his astringent lotions—IdiscoveredthepropertyoftheIndiandrug,hebought—andhistreatment,hecutallsignsofagefromtheirfacessoeffectivelythattheydemandedtobeputbackwheretheywere.Itmustbeahorriblediscoverytofindyou're lookinglike somebody else. PoorGrives is going abroad for two or three years; hesays he dare not showhimself in theCourts till the effect ofLai Singhhaswornoff."

"WhatIcan'tunderstand,saidCrowther,"iswhyMiddlethallwaspreparedtopaymorethantheothers—"

"TakeagoodlookatMiddlethall'sphotograph,"saidPeter.

CHAPTERII

LONGbeforePeterDunnhadsucceededtothebaronetcy,whenhewasplainDetectiveDunn,hemetHenryDrewfordLesster, thoughheneverretainedaveryvividimpressionofthatunfortunateyoungman.Itwasonanightwhenhemetothergraduatesofthegreatuniversity—tobeexactonBoatRacenight—andMr. Lesster was one of half-a-dozen boisterous and hilarious younggentlemenwhomhehadbeencalledupontoejectfromaWestEndtheatre.

Mr.Lessterhadappearedbeforeapolicemagistrateandhadpaidhisfine.Theonly thing thatPetereverrememberedabouthimwas thathespelthisnamewith two S's. It was just this odd circumstance of memory, that he shouldretainasanidentityamongstthousandsofotherarrestsanddetentions.

TwoyearslatertheaccidentoccurredontheWorthingRoad.Abigtouringcar,driving towardsLondon lateoneSundaynight in June, crashed intoa smallcar, inwhichaLondondoctorwasdrivinghiswifeand two friendsback totown. One of the men passengers was badly injured. The big car had itsradiatorandbonnetsmashed,thesmallmachinewasawreck,

Fortunatelytherewasnearthespotacyclistpolicemanwhowaspracticallyaneye-witnessoftheaccident,ifsucheventscanbewitnessedinthedeadofthenight.Hecameup,renderedfirstaidandsenttheinjuredmaninapassingcartoahospital,beforehecarriedout theroutineof takingnumbers,examininglicencesandjottingdownparticularsoftheaccident.

The big car was undoubtedly on the wrong side of the road. The driver, adazedyoungman,smeltstronglyofdrink.HislicenceborethenameofHenryDrewfordLesster.

Theconstablewasyoungandinexperienced,orhewouldhaveknownthatitwashisdutytotakethedrivertothepolicestationandtochargehimwithaveryseriousoffence—thatofbeingdrunkwhilstinchargeofamotorcar—or,atanyrate, tosubmithimtothetestswhichapolicesurgeonwouldimpose.Instead, he took particulars from the licence, warned the delinquent that hewouldbesummonedandallowedhimtoproceedonhisway.

Therewasnoquestion—themanwasdrunk.Thedriverofthesmallcarwasemphatic on that point, and when in the night the injured man died, theunhappyconstablewassuspendedbyhisinspectorforhisfailuretomakethe

arrest.

Scotland Yard was communicated with, and it fell to Peter Dunn to makeinquiriesaboutthemotorist—oneofthoseoddjobsthatmakeupthelifeofasergeantoftheC.I.D.

The address was an expensive flat in Park Lane, but he found it in thepossessionofawealthystockbrokerwhohadtakenitfortwoyears.

"Mr.Lessterhasbeenillforsometimeandheislivinginthecountrywithanaunt."

Hehadtheaddress,whichPetercopiedintohisbook—Deeplands,Kensham,Berks.

DeeplandswasanoldQueenAnnehousethat layinthemiddleofaboutsixacresofunkeptground.Therewasageneralairofneglectabouttheplace.Thewindows, except two or three that lit the drawing-room,were shuttered anddirty.Therewas about it an atmosphere ofmysterywhich appealed even toonewhoprofessedtodespisemysteriesascreationsofimaginativewriters.

Heknockedandpulledthebig-iron-handledbell.Itwasalongtimebeforeheheardthebarsbeingremovedandakeyturn.Atall,broad-shoulderedyoungman.withared,unshavenfaceandhairthathadnotbeenbrushedorcombed.opened thedoor.Peter thoughthewasacaretakeruntilheheardhimspeak,andthenherealisedthatitwasthevoiceofaneducatedman.

"Well, what do you want?" he asked suspiciously. When Peter stated hisbusiness he shook his head, "He is not staying here; he is abroad.Hewentabroadsixmonthsago."

"Isthishishouse?"askedPeter.

Themanhesitated.andashedidsoavoicespokefromthehallbehindhim.Heopenedthedooralittlewider,andamiddle-agedwomancamesweepingacross the parquet floor. "Sweeping" literally—she wore a dress which hadalmost a train.Her hairwas brassily golden.Her face, an old-looking face,waspowderedandrouged.Ononearmwasamassofdiamondbracelets.

"Youwanttoseemynephew?"sheaskedharshly."HewenttotheContinentthismorning.Hecamehomelastnightwithhiscarsmashedup,andtookhissmallercarandleftveryearly.HesaidhewasgoingtoParis."

Peter was puzzled. He recognised a relationship between the sot who hadopened the door and the grotesquewoman, and learned soon after that theyweremotherandson.

"Thisgentlemantoldmehehadbeenawayformonths—"hebegan.

"Mysonknowsnothingaboutit,"shesaidharshly."Hewenttobedearlylastnight, and be didn't know that Henry had returned. He only comes hereoccasionally.Wouldyouliketoseethecar?"

Howwould she have known that he bad come tomake inquiries about theaccident? This woman was a shrewd guesser, he thought, and becamesuddenlyinterestedinher.Itwasnotanunusualtype,thewomanwhorefusedtogrowoldandclungto the illusionthatartcouldrevivethepastgloriesofyouth.

Pickingupthetrainofherdress,sheledthewaytoabiggarage,andhesawthedamagedcarandmadeoneortwonotesinhisbook.

"Youareapoliceofficer,aren'tyou?Iexpectedsomebodywouldcall.Henryis verywild.He is consumptive, youknow, andhe started drinking about ayearago.Heisagreatworrytome."

"WheredoyouthinkIshallfindhim?"

Sheshookherhead.

"I haven't the slightest idea. He disappears for months at a time and nevertakesmeintohisconfidence."

"Whoarehislawyers?"askedPeter.

Againsheshookherbead.

"Idon'tthinkhehasany.Iholdhispowerofattorney,butIneverhadtouseit."

The cabman who drove Peter back to the station gave him one or twointerestingitemsofnewsaboutDeeplands.

"Wehavehadsomequeerfishlivingthere,"hesaid."OnewasaGermanwhocalledhimselfSchmidt.Iamtheonlymanwhoknowswhathisrealnamewas—Egolstein.Istheresuchaname?"

"Egolstein'?"

Peterwasimmediatelyinterested.Wasitacoincidence?

"He is the fellow that got twenty years for robbing amail boat—I saw hispictureinanoldpaper.That'showIknewitwashe...."

ThenitwasEgolstein,themostdramaticandsensationalbanksmasherofhis

age.

Peteraskedaquestion.

"Oh,no,hewasnorelationofMrs.LewingorMr.Lesster—Mr.LesstertookthehouseafterEgolsteinwentaway.Itbelongstoaparson."

ThedriverhadneverseenyoungMr.Lesster,thoughheknewheusedtostayatDeeplandswhenhewasill.

"Funnything,therehasbeenanothermanafterthehouse,"saidtheloquaciousdriver (his conveyancewas an open touring car, and Peter sat by his side)."Therewas ayounggentlemandownhereonly lastweekwho tried to lookoverit,butMrs.LewingandyoungMr.Lewingwereout—"

"Andtheservantswouldnotadmitthem?"saidPeter.

"There areno servants.Theold ladyandher sondo thework in thehouse.Rumlot,ain'tthey?"

Peteragreedthattheywerearumlot;butthen,theworldwasfullofrumlots,andhetooknofurtherinterestinDeeplandsuntilJoLolesscalleduponhim.

Peter Dunn did not like old lags. He steadfastly refused to believe in theirpenitence,andwhen they toldhim that theyweregoingstraightand thatallthey neededwas a couple of pounds to buy a new kit of tools so that theycouldstartworknextMondaymorning,itwashispracticetosaythingswhichwouldhavesoundedcruelandharsh to thesentimentalistwhodidnotknowthepeculiarpsychologyoftheprofessionalwrongdoer.

Therehadbeena timewhenhehad taken the trouble to lookup therecordsand to discover exactly the trade for which the mythical kit of tools wasintended, but now he turned down the ill-written pleas automatically.Naturally, therewasacertainvariation in thebegging letterswhichcame tohim. Sometimes itwas requested that he should advance eighteen and two-pence for the purposeof taking thewriter to his dying father, brother, aunt,sister or wife, who lived in a town just that distance from London.Occasionally the appealwas a pathetic request that he shouldmake a smallloantogetanovercoatoutofpawn.

Itmayseemcurious toallexcept thosewhounderstand thequeerly intimaterelationshipbetweenthepoliceandthecriminal,thatsuchrequestsshouldbemadeatall;butthosewhoareacquaintedwiththeinnerworkingofScotlandYard know how frequently they come to every officer, and especially to anofficerreputedlyasrichasSergeantSirPeterDunn.

TherequestofJoLolessmighthavesharedthefateof itsfellowsbutfor itsunusualcharacter.Jowantednothinglessthanaletterofrecommendation,nottothelandlordofahousewhichhewasdesirousofrenting,buttoitspresenttenant.Itwasapparentlyafairlylargehouse;hewroteofitvaguelyasbeing"inthesuburbsofLondon,"andtherentwastwohundredayear.whichisanunusuallyhighoneforahouse insuchasituation,andamazinglyexpensiveforamaninJo'sposition.

Peter was on the point of throwing it into the waste-paper basket whensomethingpeculiarinthephraseology,caughthiseye,andhereaditagain.

"DuringthetimeIwasinDartmoor,asyouknow,SirPeter,Ihavebeenjustreleased. I worked out a formula for making malleable glass. I put a littlemoneybyandhaveenoughtofurnishtheplaceandpaytherentfortwoyearsbesides keeping myself. The house I have decided upon is ideal for mypurpose. I think the present tenants could be persuaded to let me have thehouseiftheyknewyouwereinterestedinme.Frankly,myoutrageousrequestisthatyoushouldhelpmebygivingmealettertothemtellingthemnotthatyou are a friend of mine, but that you are interested in my acquiring thehouse."

Peter read the letter and frowned. It sounded like a lie, and yet Jo Lolesswouldnotlie.Hewasashrewdconfidenceman,aglibtellerofstories,whohadgonedownforfiveyearsforabrilliantjobwhichhadmiscarriedowingtotheactivitiesandintelligenceofthemantowhomhewaswriting.

JoLolesshadhadagoodeducation,wasacleverbusinessman.Peterreadtheletterforthethirdtimeand,takingasheetofpaperfromhisstationeryrack,scribbledaninvitationforJoetocall.

Helikedthissuave,rathergood-lookingrogue,whohadgraduatedfromoneof the medical schools into a more or less strenuous method of gaining alivelihood, who never ceased to jest about his appropriate name and itspsychologicalinfluenceinthedeterminationofhiscareer,andneveradoptedanyother.HewasindeedoneofthefewcrookswhosenamesappearedintheannalsofScotlandYardwhohadneveradoptedanalias.

Joe called after dinner the next night. a debonair figure in correct eveningdress,andnoteventhemostsuspiciousofmortals,seeinghisfashionablycutclothes, would have imagined he had a few months before been workingbehindthewallsofDartmoorprison.Hishandswereperfectly,manicured,hishairglossyandwell-brushed.Heworepearlsinhiswhiteshirtfront,andthethincigarettecasehetookfromhiswhitewaistcoatpocketboreamonogramindiamonds.

"Sitdown.Joe.andhelpyourselftoadrink,"saidPeter."Hadabadtime?"

Joe pulled up the knees of his trousers very carefully and exposed his silk-coveredankles,thensatdown.

"Idonotdrink—you'veforgottenmyhabits,"hesaid."No,itwasn'tsobadasyoucouldhavewished."

"What'stheideaofthishouse?Whatisitcalled,bytheway?"

"Deeplands."saidJoe,andPeterstaredathim."MayI?"

Joetookoutacigaretteandpoiseditinquiringly.Peternoddedandhelitit.

"Iliketheplace;it'sgotaboutsixacres.Thehouseisinashockingcondition,andacoupleofghastlyspecimensare living there,but Iwillhave theplaceput right. It isaway from thebeaten track. Incidentally. it is justoutside theMetropolitanPolicearea."

"Malleableglass."Peter'seyebrowsrose.

"Whynot?"saidtheothercoolly."Itisoneofthedreamsofscientists,morepracticable than the philosopher's stone, but only just. There is, I believe, abig,oldkitcheninthehousethatwouldmakeamarvellouslaboratory—IwasinthelaboratoryatGresham,ifyouwillexaminemydossier,andIwasratherkeenonchemicalresearchwork.Ihavecachedenoughofmyillicitgainstokeepmecomfortablyforayearortwo,andImighthaveaveryamusingtime,withouttroublingyoufellows,withapossibilitythatintheendIcanbuildupabigfortune."

Peterwaswatchinghimkeenly.

"Doyouthinkyouwillsucceed?"

Jopursedhislips.

"I don't know.The troublewithme,Dunn, is that I have principles.BeforenowIhavesacrificedaconsiderablefortuneratherthanstrayfromwhattomearethepermissiblepathsofwrong-doing.PossiblyIshallloseanother."

"But why that house?" asked Peter. "And why should a letter from meinfluencethetenantsyouaretryingtodispossess?"

Joshruggedhisshapelessshoulders.

"Idon'tknow."

HelookedatPeterforalongtime.

"You have never done time in Dartmoor, of course—it's a pity; it is ahumanising experience. There was a man there—a German—one of thebiggestsmashersofhistime—Egolstein."

Peternodded.

"You knew, of course. that he lived at Deeplands? I was in the villageyesterday, and the gentleman who hires cars to the unsuspecting strangerinformedmethathehadtoldyou.EgolsteinandIworkedinthesameshop.He lovedDeeplands; hewove about it a certain glamourwhich it probablydoes not deserve. To me it became synonymous with quiet and calm andrestfulness.IadmitIwasshockedwhenIsawtheplace,buttheillusionofitspeacefulnessappealed—"

"Marvellous."murmuredPeter.

"Youthink that Iampullingone,but Iamnot."Jowasearnest.orappearedearnest.

"PooroldEgolstein,whodied,asyouknow,intheprisonhospital,gavemeadreamtorealise.Itwasterribletofindthehouseinthepossessionofawickedold ladywho drinks and her sonwho soaks. The first time I saw them shewanted to let theplace; thesecondtimeshewouldnotopen thedoor tome,andtheletterIsentherwasansweredwitharudenesswhichwasunbecominginonewhohaspassedthemeridianoflife."

HestoppedandlookedatPeter.

"How can a letter from me help you?" Peter asked. "Is there any specialpotencyinmyname?"

Joshruggedagain.

"Ihaveanideathereis."besaid.

Whatwasbehindthis?

Peter's mind was working quickly. He was receiving no very satisfactoryreactions.

"Whoisthelandlord?"

Jotookacardfromhispocketandlaiditonthetable."That's theaddress—TheReverendWilliamWalkier.Heisaruraldeanandrollinginmoney.It'sashamethatsuchthingsshouldbe,butthereyouare!Wemusttaketheworldaswefindit."

Petertookupthecard,readit,andslippeditintohispocket.

"Give me twenty-four hours to think about it, and I will see what can bedone."

JoLolessroseandstoodhesitantforaminute.andthen:"Bekindtome?"hesaid,andleftwiththatcrypticrequest.

EvidentlytheReverendWilliamWalkierwasagentlemanofsomesubstance.NoteveryruraldeancanaffordtheluxuryofatownhouseinEtonPlace,eventhough that house is a flat. Peter discovered this from the directory of thesouth-westofLondon.

Hewassufficientlyinterestedtomakeacall.Forhisownsatisfactionhebadlywished to solve themystery—possibly two.Mr.Lesster had disappeared.Awarrant had been issued for his arrest formanslaughter, but thematter hadbeendealtwithbythelocalpoliceandhadnotagaincomewithinthepurviewofScotlandYard.

HefoundtheRev.WilliamWalkieraverycharming,good-naturedman,whoconfessedruefullythathehadmorethanhisshareofthisworld'sgoods,andadmittedthathewouldbegladifDeeplandswasoffhishands.

"Yes, Ihavehadanoffer fromMr.Loless to rent theplacewith the ideaofpurchase,butIhavebeensobittenbyonerascalwhorenteditthatIamalittleshy,and,moreover,mypresenttenant,Mrs.Lewing,showsnodispositiontoclearout.Mywould-betenant,however,hastoldmethathewouldgetaletterwhichwouldscaretheladyout."

Petersmiled.

"Mine,Ipresume—oramIflatteringmyself?"

Mr.Walkiersmiled.

"Anyway,heisnotlikelytohavehiswishesfulfilled.IhaveheardfromMrs.Lewing,takinguptheoptionwhichshehasforanotherfiveyearslease.Ihavejustwrittenoff toMr.Loless tellinghimwhathashappened; so I amafraidyourletterwillbeunnecessary."

"Itwouldcertainlybenecessary,butitwasneverpossible,"saidPeter,

Twomonths later there came through an urgent call to Scotland Yard, andbecause Peter Dunn had some remote association with Deeplands he wascalledin.

Amountedconstable riding.on theedgeof theDeeplandsestatehadseena

flash of light near the house.Hewas a localman and knew that bothMrs.Lewing and her son had left that morning for Brighton. He rode his horsethroughagapinthehedgeandgallopeduptothemansion.Ashedidso,hesawthefigureofamanslipintoaplantationnearthebackofthehouse,andshoutedtohim.Fromthefactthatthemanbrokeintoarunitwasevidentthathehadnobusinessthere.

The policeman made no attempt to pursue this suspicious-looking intruder,but,continuingtothehouse.hedismountedandmadeabriefsurvey.Bythelightofhispocketlamphediscoveredthatapaneofglasshadbeenbroken,awindow sash raised and the shutters forced. Thinking there might be acaretaker in the house. he rang the bell, hut, receiving no reply, had riddenbackandtelephonedhisreporttothenearestpolicestation.

At this period there had been a number of country house robberies andScotlandYardhadbeencalledin.PeterDunndrovedowntoDeeplands,and,joiningalocalinspector,cametothehousethesamewayastherobber.

Therewasaconsiderableamountofsilverintheuntidydining-room,andthishadnotbeendisturbed.Oneofthebackdoorshadbeenunlockedandopened,theydiscovered—itwasnearthisthatthelighthadbeenseen.

Theirsearchofthehouserevealednothing.exceptanumberofroomswhichwere shut and locked, a considerable state of disorder anduncleanliness, animmensenumberofemptywinebottles.butnothingwhichgavetheslightestcluetotheintruder'sidentity,exceptthatononeofthetablestherewasasmallbasketwhichcontainedtheremainsofameal.

In such a big and rambling house the search could only be brief andunsatisfactory, Peterwas inclined to accept the theory of the local inspectorthatthethief"hadbeendisturbed".

AttemptstogetintocommunicationwithMrs.Lowingandhersonfailed—helearnedthisthenextdaybytelephone.

Therewasanotherandmore importantwork forPeter—abig fur robbery intheEastEndofLondon.

Whenhereturnedhomethatnight,thebutler,whoadmittedhim,toldhimthattherewasamanwaitingtoseehim.

"Thegentlemanwhocameacoupleofmonthsago,sir—Mr.Loless."

Peterfrowned.

"Loless?Whatdoeshewant?"

Hehadalmostforgottentheexistenceoftheconfidenceman.

Jowassittinginadeeparmchair,thoroughlyathome.Heworealoungesuit,andbythesideofhischairwasasmallattachecase. towhichhewavedhishandwithasmileasPeterentered.

"Foresight!"hesaid.

"Whatdoyouwant?"askedPeter.

Mr.Lolesssmiledagain.

"Irequireaninterpretationofthelaw,"hesaid."YouwillobservethatIhavecomeprepared for immediatearrest.DoyouknowtheoldLatin tagaboutacobbler sticking to his last? I have departed from that excellent advice andhavetriedburglary."

Peterlookedathimwithastonishment.

"Areyousurrendering?"

Jonoddedhisheadgracefully.

"Inasense,"hesaid."Ofcourse,thestoryofthemalleableglasswasalie.Itdeceivedmostpeople,but itdidnotdeceiveyou.Icertainlywantedtoscareherladyshipfromherdomain,becauseIwasprettysureshehadsomethingtobescaredabout.Sheandhersonweredrunkforaweekafteryoupaidthemavisit.CanIhaveadrink?"Peterrangthebell,andnowordwasspokenuntiltheservanthadleftthevisitorwithawhiskyandsoda.

"Ihavebeendrinkingsteadilysinceyesterdaymorning,"saidJo,sippingtheamber liquor."It isnotasamusingasI thought itwouldbe,but itdoes takeawayunpleasantmemories,"

"Well?"Peterwascurious.

"IwasorderlyinthehospitalatDartmoor,"saidJo,"andattendedEgolsteininhislastmoments.Hetoldmethathehadburiedthirtythousandpounds'worthofcurrencyinthecellarofhishouse,Deeplands.VerynaturallyIwasanxioustosecurethatmoney,butinthemeantimeanewtenanthadmovedinandwasdifficult to shift. When they went off to Brighton—they are staying at 34LielandCrescent.bytheway—Ibrokeintothehouse."

"Youweretheburglar?"

AgainJoinclinedhishead.

"There isacellar,andunderneath thatanothercellar.Youwill find thedoorbehinda largepackingcase,andbeneaththatcellarEgolsteinhadburiedhismoney.Idugdowntoit. Ihatemanual labour: itmakesonehotandblistersone'shands:butthirtythousandpounds!Itdidn'twantagreatdealofdigging,because somebody had already loosened the earth. I noticed the bricks hadbeenreplaced.WhenIsearched...."

Thehandthatlithiscigarettetrembledalittle.

"Odd that they should have chosen the same place, eh?.... That poor youngdevilmusthavediedorbeenmurderedayearago,buttheykeptitquiet.Youwillheabletodeterminetheexactcauseofdeath.Asanembryonicmedico.Ishouldsayhehadbeenshot.Theoldladyheldhispowerofattorneyandalotofblankcheques.Thesonusedhismotor-carandhislicence.Hehadlosthisown,youwillfind,throughdrunkenness."

Josighedheavilyashethrewhisjustlightedcigaretteintothefireplace.

"If I had been a heartless brute. I could have gone on digging and got themoney;butIhavemyprinciples,Dunn.Itisanicepointoflaw:doIgetfiveyearsforburglary,oralargerewardfordiscoveringacoupleofcold-bloodedmurderers?"

CHAPTERIII

THERE is water in the great Sahara Desert, and there is honour amongthieves. PeterDunn had never struck one of these remarkable oases, but hehad been told about them bymen towhom theywere rare phenomena, notlikelytobeforgotten,

Therearecertainlycleanthievesandthieveswhicharenotsoclean,andintothislattercategorycomesRoonyRiall.WhenSergeantPeterDunnthoughtofRoony,hethoughtofsnakes.

Roony was suave, sleek, had glossy pomaded hair and whitish, manicuredhands. He had forged a little, taken minor parts in great crimes, alwayskeepingonthesafetyline,Asacraftsmanhewasversatile.Hehadnarrowlyescaped conviction for an offencewhich, even to criminals, who, generallyspeaking,retainsomerespectforwomen,isabhorrent.

Peter loathed sly men who can never look at you straightly. Therefore heloathedRoony,who smiled too readily andwas glib-tongued.Nevertheless,

being a police officer, SergeantDunnwas compelled to have dealingswithhim.

Hedrewthelineatvisitstohishouse,andwhenRoonycalledonenightafterdinnertoimpartcertaininformationconcerningasmalljewelrobberyinBondStreet,Petertoldhimjustwhatwasonhismind,

"WearealwaysgladtomeetasquealeratScotlandYard,hesaid,"butIdon'twantyouhere,Riall. I like tokeep thisplaceclean,andyouaremy ideaofdirt.AsapoliceofficerIappreciateyourinformation,butasanindividualyouhavehadaverynarrowescapefrombeingkickedintoBerkeleySquare.Isthatclear?"

Roony showed his white teeth in a smile. Youmight have thought be wasbeingcomplimented.

"Perfectly."hesaid."Iamafraidyouareprejudiced,SirPeter.Itryinmyownhumbleway—"

"Don'tsayhumble'."snarledPeter."Itmakesmesick!"

He jotted down the particulars the man brought to him, but still Roonylingered.

"Haveyouever thoughtwhatamarvellouscopDappyLyonwouldbe?"Heended the question with a wide grin. "I suppose that ten thousand poundsrewardstillholdsgood?"heasked.

HereferredtotherewardwhichtheTrustandSecurityCompanyhadoffered.

"Youhadbetterwriteandask,"saidPetershortly,andthen:"Haveyouworkedwithhim?"

Roonyshookhishead.

"Neverhadtheluck."hesaid,

"Heisratherparticular,isn'the?"saidPeteroffensively.

Roony smiled at the insult and chuckled to himself all theway through thehall, and was still chuckling When his unwilling host slammed the doorbehindhim.

PeterhadbeenengagedinreliefdutywhentheTrustandSecurityCompany'spremisesinPallMallwerescientificallyburgled.Oneoffourmencouldhaveperformedtheoperation,alwaysexcludingthepossibilitythatitwastheworkof the continental crowd. And that possibility was rejected. Scotland Yard

settled down to locate the four suspects, and of theseDappy Lyonwas themostimportant.

ExactlywhyhewascalledDappynobodyknew:possiblyitwastheworkofadescriptive reporter, who has a trick of covering men and things withpicturesque labels. Likely enough it was a fight promoter who called him"DapperDickLyon"intheperiodwhenDappywasafeatherweight,fightingformicroscopicpurses.

Dappyheinvariablywas; invariablywelldressed,agenerouslittlemanwhogavenotroubletothepolice,wouldgoalongdistanceoutofhiswaytohelpafallenfriend(heoncepaidforthedefenceofamanwhohaddonehimasbada turn as any man could). He had so many admirable qualities that it wasremarkablethatheshouldhavefollowedthecareerhehadchosen.

Ifanymandeservedtobecalledthemastercriminal—atitlewhichinvariablyraises loud guffaws at Scotland Yard—it was Dappy. This foxy-faced littleman,withabulgingforeheadandnotunpleasantCockneyaccent,wasneartobeingTheCompleteandPerfectCriminal.

Hehadneverbeenconvicted,thoughhehadbeenseveraltimesinthebandsofthepolice.ThehistoricaldetailstobefoundintheRecordDepartmentattheYardcontainedcertaininterestinginformation.Hehadservedinthewar,hadrisentotherankofCorporalintheCorpsofRoyalEngineers,miningsection.Afterhisdischargehehadworkedforthreeyearsinthefactoryofalocksmithand safe-maker—Grindles.who supplied the strong-room doors formost ofthebanks.Hewasanexemplaryworkman,skilful,painstaking,ingenious.Henever lost time;waspopularbothwithworkmenandemployers.During theperiodhewassoemployedGrindlesweremakingthedoorsfortheMidland&SouthernDeposit vault. It is an undoubted fact thatDappy assisted in theirerection.Aftertheyhadbeenfixedhelefttheplant,givingasareasonthefactthathecouldnotearnsufficientmoneytosupplyhisneeds.

Within two months of his retirement the Midland & Southern vault wasopened and emptied.The exact amount thatwas lost nobody knows; itwasconsiderablyoverahundredthousandpounds.

Dappy was pulled in when it was discovered that he had been working atGrindles.Hehad(itwasbelieved)beenconcernedinapreviousbankrobbery.Hewas questioned closely and released for lack of evidence. "Released forlack of evidence" became a formula on the documents which made up hisdossier.

It was undoubtedly Dappy who organised the mail train robbery betweenSouthamptonandLondon,whenfiftythousandpounds'worthofbargoldwas

taken from thebullionvananddroppedon to thepermanentway throughaholecutinthefloor,afterthetrainhadbeenslowedbyamanipulationofthesignalson the loneliest stretchof the road. Ithadnotonlybeen slowed,hutstopped,andthethiefhadtimetodropdownbetweenthelinesandmakehisescapebeforethemanipulatedsignalfellandallowedthetraintoproceedonitsway.

He chose his men well, probably imported a few of them, paid themmunificently,andmadenoerroruntilhefellinlove.Thenhismistakealmostprovedhisundoing.Thishappenedabout threeweeksafterPeter's interviewwithMr.RoonyRiall.

Dappyhadn'tmuchuseforwomen,neverusedtheminanyofhiscoups.HewouldasreadilyhavefallenforthefatwomaninacircusasforCanadianLil,but, unhappily for him, he did not know Canadian Lil even by name. Herreputationwas local to the townofBuffalo, though she had operated as farwestasCincinnattiandChicago,RoonyRiallhadmetherinDetroitduringafleeting visit he paid there. She came to England in response to his urgentcablegram, sweetenedbyabankdraft thatpaidexpenses, andhemether atSouthamptonwheretheboatdocked.

"'There'sfiftythousanddollarsinthis,"hetoldher,"andwecuttwoways."

DecoywasnonewroletoLil.Itwasthemainstapleofherbusiness.Shewasvery lovely,golden-haired, fair-skinned,modestofmanner.ShehadplannedtogotoLondonandhadalreadybookedherroomatafashionablehotel

"Youcangetthatideaoutofyournut,"saidRoony."You'llstayat—"Hegaveher the name of a less pretentious hotel in a Midland city which Dappyfrequentedforreasonsbestknowntohimself.

Soithappenedthatoneday,travellingtoLondon,Dappy,foundhimselfinafirst-classcompartmentwiththelovelyMissMortimerfromPhiladelphia.ShewasdoingEuropeinaquiet,inexpensiveway,HerfatherhadasmallstoreandsheintendedstayingatasmallhotelofftheStrand.Shetoldhimallthisandagreatdealmore.

Dappywasakindlysoul.Itwasapleasureforhimtohelpanywoman.Beinghuman, thepleasurewas intensifiedby the fact that shewasvery sweetandverylovely.

Withinamonththeywereengagedtobemarried.AhoneymoontriptoComowasplanned, andavillawas secretly rentedbyDappy,whowasanxious toimpressherwithhiswealth.

InjusticetoLilitmusthesaidthatshehadnoideathatDappywasaveryrichman. She regarded disloyalty to money as one of the cardinal sins of herprofession.Toher,Dappywasacrooklivingontheedgeofcomfort—thatandnomore.

As forDappy, hewas almost a reformed character;MissMortimerwas thecentreofanewuniverse.EvenwhentheymetRoonybyaccidentintheStrandhewasnotsuspiciousofherrealcharacter.Later....

"Itisacuriousthing,"saidRoony."IrecognisedthatlittleladythemomentIsawher,Herfatherhasastore..."

DappyknewRonnyslightly.Hisreputationwasnotgood,but,beinginlove,hewarmed towardsamanwhowas so fullofpraise forhis fiancée.Outoffriendliness grew confidence. Roony was given a job and the offer of agenerousreward.

On a certain night the wheel of his car came off in the Acton Road. Theaccidentoccurredwheretwopolicemenmetattheendoftheirbeats.

This was the occasion of the classic robbery of the Acton Branch of theLeamington&LondonBank.Onthatnightthevaultsofthebankheldalargesum of money due to liquidate the pay-rolls of several big factories in theneighbourhood.Atfouro'clockinthemorningapolicemantriedthedoorofthebank,founditopen,wentinanddiscoveredthenightwatchmantiedhandandfootinasmallsound-prooftelephonebooth.

Hemighthavediscoveredthisatanearlierhour,butthemotor-caraccidentsocarefullyarrangedhaddetainedhim.

Thewatchmancouldgiveverylittle informationastohowhecametobeinthis position. Hewas uninjured (this was characteristic ofDappy'smethod)exceptthathisarmborethemarksofseveralpunctureswherethehypodermicneedlehadbeenusedonhim.Heonlyrememberedaclothbeingdrawnoverhis head and his being pulled to the ground. Beyond that his memory wasvague,

Dappy was in London, entrenched behind his inevitable alibi. andconsiderably strengthened by a new police regulation. introduced throughsome parliamentary busybodies, which prevented certain questions beingaskedofasuspect.Therewasnoevidenceonwhichhecouldbedetained,butatnighthewasneverleftunshadowed.

Roony came to Scotland Yard after a long telephone parley; in effect hearrivedunderthewhiteflagoftheinformer,and,althoughhisinformationwas

sketchyandthereweregapsinthestoryhehadtotell,thechiefbelievedhim.

OneeveningPeterfollowedDappyintoaSohorestaurantandsatathistable.Thelittlemanlookedupandstaredathim.

"Gotagun,Dappy?"

Heshookhishead.

"Ineverasmuchasownedone,"besaid."Why?"

"You're coming for a littlewalkwithme," said Peter; "and I'd like to carryyourbaggage."

Dam'sfacetwitched.

"You'vemadeamistake,haven'tyou?"

Petershookhishead.

"It'sacop,"hesaid."Ithinkwe'vegotyoutightthistime.Ifyouarewise,youwillstandyourtrialfortheTrust&Securitycompanyaffairaswell."

A police car was awaiting themwhen theywent out, and tenminutes laterDappysatwithfourdetectives.

Hehadbeenbetrayed,heknewthat.Somebodyhadsquealedonhim,andthesituationwas a desperate one. He never suspected Roony till themotor-caraccidentwasmentioned,andthenhedidnotsuspect—heknew.

"RoonyRiall, eh?Well, you'vegot toprove it, gentlemen, and I don't thinkyoucan.TheonlythingI'dliketoaskyou"—headdressedPeter—"isthatmyyoungladyshouldknownothingaboutthis."

Petersmiledandshookhishead,

"Whatyouryoungladydoesn'tknowaboutthisisn'tworthknowing,"hesaid."SheisafriendofRiall's—alittlemorethanafriend.Ishouldimagine."

Theytoldhimthetruthbrutally,thinkingitwouldbreakhim.HeheardforthefirsttimethetruehistoryofCanadianLil.Petersawhisfacegowhiteandhewassilent.

Nobody knew better than themen who questioned him that, even with theevidence of the squealer, he could not be convicted unless he convictedhimself, but he was steadfast in his refusal to hand himself over to hisenemies.

"Itisprettycertainthatthestuffisburiedsomewhere,"saidthechief."Dappyis a born mole—he got a Distinguished Conduct Medal in the war for hismining work: he knows more about blasting than most miners, and you'llprobablyfindthatsomewhereinEnglandisarealAliBaba'scave."

Butiftherewas,Dappywasblandlyignorantofitsexistence..Morelikely,ifasearchhadbeenmadeofthecoastwisebargesthatwentdownLondonriverbynightandput intoOstendwith loadsofEnglishbrick, thepolicemighthavetouched lucky:hutnobodyknewtillyearsafter thatDappyhad threebargesandawharfofhisown,andthentheinformationcamealittletoolatetobeofmuchuse.

Nevertheless,itwastrue,asthechiefsaid,thathewasagreatdiggerandwasanexpertintheuseofhighexplosives,

They searchedhis lodgingwithout result.Every railwayparcelsofficecameunderexamination.Peter,whowas incontrolofoneof these searchparties,neverexpectedtofindtheevidencehesought.NomanorganisedthedisposalofhisstuffsoefficientlyasDappy.

PetersentforRoonyRiall,whocametohisoffice.Roonywaslessconfidentthanhehadbeen.

"ItellyouIwasinit,sergeant,Iwouldn'townthatunlessitwastrue,wouldI?Heworkedfour-handed,hadtwomendownfromBirmingham,andtherewasasea-fearingfellowwhodrovethebigcar.IonlysawhimandDappy.No.Idon'tknowthenamesoftheothers.Afterthebusthewentstraighttohishotel.Youfoundhiscar?....Well,maybethestuffisundertheseat."

He looked a little anxious. Peter thought, and then his uneasiness wasexpressedinwords.

"DoesheknowI'vesquealed?"

Peternodded,andtohissurpriseRoonywasnotdistressed.

"DoesheknowaboutLil?"

TherewassomethinginhisvoicewhicharrestedPeter'sattention.

"Why?"hesaid,

"She'dgetitoutofhiminacoupleofdays,"saidRoonyeagerly."He'smadabouther!"

ItwasthenthatPeterrealisedthatheandhisfellowquestionershadprobablycommittedabadblunderwhentheyhadplayedLil,

"She'sinthissqueakwithme."Roonywentoneagerly."Wesplitthereward."

"Itlooksasthoughtherewillbeawholelottosplit,"saidPetersardonically.

TherewasnothingtodobutreleaseDappyLyon.Hecouldhavebeenchargedonsuspicionandaremandgranted,butif,attheendoftheremandperiod,thepolice could offer no further evidence, there would be a discharge and thefailureofScotlandYardwouldbyemphasised.

Dappywasreleasedfromdetention.Itwasremarkablethathedidnotemployalawyer,andcontributednothingbuthisinhibitionstohissalvation,

On the night he was freed Peter saw him in the West End, and, to hisamazement.Lilwaswithhim.ShewalkedalittlewayfromthemWhenPeterstoppedhim.

"I am not believing that story aboutMissMortimer," saidDappy. "She hasbeenbringing,foodtomeeversinceIhavebeeninside—she'sawomaninathousand."

Petersighedwearily.

"Itmustheeasytobeamastercriminal,withbrainslikeyours!"hesaid.

Dappy,spentaweekinoraboutLondonandthegirlseemedtohewithhimevery minute. They used to go for long motor-car drives together into thecountry—and a flying squad car, in some disguise or other, was never farbehind.

OnemorningDappysurprisedthem.Hecameoutdrivinganewerandafastercar, and outdistanced his shadows heading northward.Hewas seen passingthroughWoodford.Anhour later theofficerswereholdingaconsultation inthe townofEpping,whenheappeared.Wherehehadbeen in themeantimenobodyknew.

Theysearchedhiscarbutfoundnothing.ThatsameweekheleftEnglandfortheContinentandMissMortimerwentwithhim.

AsamatterofprecautionRoonyRiallhadbeenkeptunderobservationuntilDappy disappeared. For there were odd stories told about this mild littleman.... he was a killer, some people insisted. though Scotland Yard couldneverconnecthimwithanythingasromanticasmurder.

Peter,beingwhathewas,hadnouseformenwhosawincrimeofanysorttheleast hint of romance.Hewas trained in the traditions of theYard, and theYard,intheeyesofitsstaff,isnotaplacewhereunusualthingshappen.

Ifyouaskedtheoldestinhabitantwhatwerethemostremarkablehappeningswithinhismemory,hewould (after long thought)cite the inspectorwhocuthisfingerwithapieceofglassandfainted,orthedaytheCommissioner'sdogbittheclerkintheRecordsDepartment,orpossiblytheoccasionwhenhalfthestaffwentsickthrougheatingbadfish.

Butofmurdererswhohadsatinpokylittleroomsandtoldthestoriesoftheirvillainies, of confessions signedwith tremblinghands, of great robberswhohaddetailedtheircoupstothechief,hewouldremembernothing.

PeterwenttoBerlintosupplycertaininformationaboutthebrothersPoliski,andhisvisithadnothingwhatevertodowithDappyandhismisdeeds.IntheredbuildingonAlexanderplatzheexchangedreminiscenceswithmenofhisown profession, and told them how badly the central healing was run inLondon, whilst they in turn remarked upon the amazing stinginess of theGovernmentinthematterofstationery.

Hewas inBerlin for sevendays, spendingmostof his time in theCriminalMuseum.OnedayhewaswalkingupUnterdenLinden,ruminatinguponthesystem of traffic control, when, coming towards him, he sawDappy Lyon.Dappy wore an elegant fur coat, though the weather was warm, lemon-colouredgloves,andpatentshoes,andswungagold-headedcane.Hepausedtolookintoajeweller'swindow.andwhenPeterpassedhimliewashumming"Ichliebedich"sentimentally.

"Hello,Dap!"

Dappy looked round—was only mildly interested in the presence of thedetective.

"DoingGermany?"

"I am just having a look round"—he waved his hand airily to embrace allGermany—"Ihaveneverbeeninthiscountrybefore,"

"Museumsandwhat-nots."suggestedPeterpolitely."Youshouldhavealookat Police Headquarters—very interesting. There are a number of scientificburglars'toolswhichmaybenewtoyou."

Dappysmiledindulgently.

"Nomoreofthatforme,Mr.—SirPeter—"

"Callmesergeant,"suggestedPeter."Letusbedemocraticinthisrepublicanland."

"IhavegivenupwhatIwoulddescribeasmycareerofcrime,"saidDappy."Iamgettingmarriedsoontooneofthebestgirlsintheworld,andI'mgoinginforamotor-caragency.Infact,IamhereinBerlin,seeingmyrepresentative,afellownamedHarryBrown,"

"AgoodoldGermannamethat.OneoftheBrownsofBrandenburg?OrisheaNonBrownofSilesia?"Dappywasamused,

"He'sgotanofficeonLeipzigerStrasse.telephones,clerks,everything."Andthen,ashesawtheliftofthedetective'seyebrows,hewentonquickly:"He'snotinBerlinjustnow—doingabitoftravelling,orI'dinterduceyou."

"Thelossismine.Whereareyoustaying?"

Dappy named a hotel in Kurfürstendamm, where hotels are both good andexpensive.Hewasquiteathisease,bynomeansperturbedattheoutrageousappearanceofonewho,hehadeveryright toexpect,washundredsofmilesaway.ItstruckPeterthathewasneitheruncomfortablenoralarmed,Hewasaninnocentman,consciousofhistemporaryvirtues.

PeterwenthacktotheAdloninaspeculativemood,"Theoffice"didnotallowAdlon accommodation, but Peter never stinted himself in the matter ofcomfort.HisfirstactwastoputthroughacalltoDappy'shotel.Hefound,ashehadexpected,thatthelittlemanhadspokenthetruth.Hewasstayingatthehotelandoccupiedasuitewhichcouldnothavecosthimless thanafiveraclay.AndMissMortimerwaslivingatthesamehotel.

Peter saw themdriving in theTiergarten in the cool of the evening, and hehimselfdidnotescapeobservation."That'sDunn,isn'tit?"askedthegirl.

Dappynodded.Hewas toyingwithherhandabsently."Themanwhosaid Iwas..abadwoman?Wheredidhegetthatnerve!"

"Justtryingtorattleme,mylove,"saidDappy."Heisn'tabadfellow—"

ShewasnotdisposedtodiscusssouninterestingamatterasPeterDunn,andcamebacktothesubjectthathisappearancehadinterrupted.

"Ineverdidbelieveyouwere aburglar,Dicky," she said. "Andeven ifyouwere,whyshouldn'tyoube?Paalwayssaysthatpropertyisn'tdistributedlikeit should be. I wouldn't mind if you were a crook—really! But I know, ofcourse,thatyouarenot.Howcouldyouhavegotridofallthatjake—money,Imean—Paalwayscallsitjake—withoutthepoliceknowing?Youwouldhavetobeamightycleverburglartodothat!"

Thebaitofcrudeflatteryhadbeencastinfrontofhimbefore.Thistimehebit.

"Oh, wouldn't I? You don't know me! Listen, kid." He turned to her withsuddenenergy,"Idon'tknowwhatthisfellowDunnisdoinginBerlin.Maybehehasgotsomethingonme."Hepausedandfrowned."IfIthoughtsoIdtellyou something." He patted her hand. "I don't want my little girl to be leftwithoutmoney.I'vegottwelvethousandpounds—that'ssixtythousanddollars—cachednearLondon,andincaseanythinghappenstomeIamgoingtotellyoujustwhereitis.Sixtythousanddollarsofrealmoney!"

Shewasbreathingquickly.Hewaseasierthanshethought.

"You'dfindit,becauseIhavegotthewholethinglaidout."

He lowered his voice, although there was nobody to hear him, except thetaxicab driver, who certainly spoke German and probably spoke Russian."Remember how you and me went sweet-hearting to that wood—EppingForest?"

Shenodded.

"Remembermycarvingthelettersofournamesonthatbigtree?"

Shenoddedagain,Shecould find theplaceblindfold. Itwasa littleoff andclosetoasideroad,andthetreestoodinthecentreofagrassyclearing:thenameshadbeencutlargely, ifawkwardly,andbetweenthemanodd-lookingtrianglewhichwasdesignedforaheart.

"It is at the footof that tree,Youcouldn'tmiss it."And then,unexpectedly:"AreyoufondofRoony?"

She was fonder than she would admit, forMr. Roony Riall had been veryattentive since she came to England. They, too, had planned a little triptogether.

"Wheredidyougetthatidea?"shesaidscornfully,"Ihavegotoneboyinthiswholewideworld,andthat'smyDicky."

Dappysighed—shehopedhappily.

Hehadsomeworktodoandleftherinthesitting-room,tellingherhewouldbeoutforatleasttwohours.

Hewashardlyoutofthehotelbefore"MissMortimer"wenttothetelephoneandput throughaLondoncall. Itwashalfpast ten in theevening,which ishalfpastnineinLondon,andthelinewasclear;shewasthroughtoRoonyintenminutes.

"Got it?" saidhisanxiousvoice. "MyGod,youneverhave!Didhe tellyou

abouttheTrustandSecurity—"

"Trust nothing!" she answered brusquely. "Get a paper and put this down.Sixtythousandforthelifting!YouknowthemainroadtoEppingthroughthatwood?That'sright,EppingForest.Youcometoacrossroadandthenturntotheright...."

Herinstructionswereveryexplicitandnottobemistaken.RoonyRiallwrotefeverishly,andreadbacktohertheinstructionsshehadgiven....

AtthatmomentDappywasinPeterDunn'ssitting-roomattheAdlon.Therewasawhiskyandsodaonthetablebeforehimandhewasbeingconfidential.

"Iamleavingher.sergeant;infact,naybaggageisatthestation.Idon'tthinkthatMissMortimerandmewillgetontogether.No,I'mplayingfair—Ineverleftawomanflatinmylife.Iharepaidthehotelhillandstuckfivethousandmarks under her pillow.A bachelor I live and die, sergeant.Women can beuseful,butnotinmylineofbusiness."

"Whenareyougoing?"askedPeter.

"To tell you the truth—tonight," replied Dappy. He smiled faintly. "Cleverfellow,RoonyRiall,clevererthanme!"

Ateleveno'clockthatnightanEssexpolicemansawacarturnfromthemainEppingroadandstopalittledistancedownasideroad.Hewatchedthecarforsometime,butitwastoodarktoseethemanwhoalighted,and,withtheaidofahand-lamp,madeasearchforacertaintree.Laterthepolicemansawtheflashofthelamp.andwaswalkingtowardsit,whenhesawaflashofwhiteflameand felt the shockofa terrific explosion that almostblewhimoffhisfeet.Whenherecoveredbalanceandwits,heraninthedirectionofthesound.

Therewas abighole at the footof the tree.The forceof the explosionhadstrippedawaythebark,andwithitcertaininitialscarvedsentimentally.Threepolicemensearchedallnight tofindfragmentsofanunknownmanwhohadexplodedtheminewhichanex-corporalofengineershadsoskilfullyburied.

CHAPTERIV

"YOURS,sir,mostbeaninterestingprofession,"saidSkipper.

He invariably made some such fool remark and Peter Dunn as invariablyansweredaccordingtohisfolly.Onecannotbeunkindtoabutler,forbutlers

outof theirnativeelementarehelplesscreatures.Mr.Harrivay'sbutler,whofrequently came to Peter's house with urgent letters from his master, andsometimesfromhismistress,wasoneofthosemenwhomightveryeasilybehurt. He was a large man, with a big, solemn face embellished with sidewhiskers,andhewastalkative.ThatwastheonlyblackmarkagainsthiminPeter's book, for he was one of those incessant talkers whose conversationnever showed a crack into which a wedge of interruption might be thrust.Mainlyhetalkedabouthisbutler'sexperiencesinAmerica.

"It'sacountryIneverwishtogobackto—"

"Yes,yes."Peterwasalittleimpatientwiththemessengerthatspringmorningforhewasabusyman,"TakethisnotetoMrs.Harrivay."

He did not dislike Skipper—nobody disliked Skipper. Hewas one of thosenegativepeopleentirelywithoutpersonalitythatcanbeveryexhaustingtotheobjective mind. He was one of Stanley's discoveries: he had been foundpenniless and dishevelled through the prosaic instrumentality of a labourexchange.Stanleygothimcheapandwasimmenselyproudofhisfind.

"Thepoordevilhadbeenyearsinhospitalandwasdownandout,"hesaid.

HewouldhavediedofstarvationifhehadhadtoliveonthewagesthatMr.StanleyHarrivaypaidhim.

Skipper repaid his employer with sleepless service and a devotion whichStanley,whowasnotoriginal,describedasdoglike.

"Mr.Harrivayiswell?"askedPeter,politely,ashesealedtheenvelope.

"Extraordinarily well, sir," said Skipper, gravely. "In the eighteen months IhavehadthehonourofservinghimIhaveneverknownhimtobesowell.HehadaslightcoldinJuly.Ithinkitwasonthe23rdthathebegantosneeze—itmayhavebeenthe24th...."

"Iacceptthe23rd,"saidPeter,

"Thankyou.sir."saidSkipper,gratefully,andbowedhimselfout.

Stanley Harrivay was a cousin of Peter Dunn. a fact which he did notemphasizeuntilPeter inherited the titleandfortuneofhisgrandfather. If thetruthbe told,Mr.Harrivayhadnotbeenwithouthope that theestrangementbetweenoldmanDunnandhisgrandsonwouldbepermanent.Thetitlemust,ofcourse,gotoPeter,butthebigmoneycouldhewilledanywhere—andwhynottohimself,who,nexttoPeter,wasinthedirectlineofsuccession?Peterbecame a common policeman as all the world knows, and eventually was

promoted to a sergeantcy in the Criminal Investigation Department. It wasratherlowofhim,asMr.StanleyHarrivaysaidinthecourseofalettertohiselderlyrelative.UntilthisrashacthehadbeenquitefriendlywithPeter,hadsent him solid presents on his birthday: Peter had spent week-ends atFelbourneManorandatleastoneChristmasweek.

Mr.Harrivaywas comfortably circumstanced.Hewas, in truth, a fairly richman,but fairly richmenareusually ambitious tobevery richmen, and thepossibilityoftheDunnmillioncominghiswaybroughtaboutaconsiderablechange inMr.Harrivay'sattitude towardshiscousin.Andwhen"that fellowPeter"became"SirPeter"anditwasdiscoveredthathehadtakenwiththetitleall the worldly possessions of his grandfather. Mr. Harrivay was not onlysurprisedbutdeeplyhurt.

Nevertheless,hiswasthefirstlettercongratulatingtheheiruponhisfortune.

"Afterall,"saidMr,Harrivaytohiswife."Peterisoneofthatkindoffellowswhomaynevermarry; Iamhisnearest relationand—well,youneverknowwhatmighthappen."

SoPeterwasinvitedagaintoFelbourneManor,whichwasnearHighBarnet,tospendhisweek-ends.AndPeterrepliedpolitelythathewouldbedelightedto come, but unfortunately he was on duty during the week-end—in fact,duringallweekends.

HewasinvitedforAscotweek—theHarrivayshadabox.PeterrepliedthatitwasatragedythathewasondutyduringtheAscotweek.

Mr.Harrivay,whowasnoteasilydaunted,askedhimtolunchwithhimattheCarlton,andPeteracceptedthiscompromise.

Hedidnot likeStanleyHarrivay,whowasathin,querulousman,sandyandbald.Hedidnotlikehisbigfeet,orhisknockknees,orhishabitofquarrellingwithwaitersandsendingdishesbacktothechefbecausetheyweren'tcookedtohisliking.

Hedid likeMrs.Harrivay,whowas younger andprettier than her husband,andwho,inthedaysofhisdisgrace,hadsenthimnicelettersandanofferofasecret allowance. Stanley never knew that they had lunched together withgreatfrequency,andthatPeterwastherepositoryofherconfidences.

Skipper,thebutler,hadbroughtanurgentnotefromStella.ShewishedtoseehimandwouldcallatthehouseinBerkeleySquarefortea.

Peter disentangled himself from an important conference he was to haveattendedatScotlandYard,andhurriedhometomeether.

Theafternoonposthadbroughthimaverycorrectlyworded invitationfromhiscousintospendtheweek-endatFelbourne.

"Iwant you tomeet a very interesting fellow—anAmerican doctor,"wroteStanley, andwenton todescribe thequalities andpeculiar attractionsofhisguest.

Peterhadalreadyinventedhisexcuseswhenhereachedhishousetofindhisprettyrelativeawaitinghim.

Hehadashockwhenhesawher:shelookedtiredanddrawn.

"No,Ihaven'tbeensleepingwell.Iwantedtoseeyouaboutthat....Imeanthecause, but it is so silly that I don't think I will. Has Stanley asked you toFelbourne for the week-end? Don't come! You'll he bored to death: one ofStanley'soddfriendswillbestayingwithus,adoctorhemetinNewYorklastsummer."

"Apsychiatrist?"Peterconsultedtheletterofinvitation."Stanleysaysheisanauthorityoncrime—thatputmeoff."

Shenodded.

"Wemethimintownlastweek.HeisaDr.Fifer—"

"Fifer?NotCorneliusFifer?GoodLord!"Peterlookedattheletteragain,"Hedidn'tmentionthename.Yes,IknowFiferverywellbyrepute.Iamlunchingwithhimtoday:heisinchargeofacriminallunaticinstitutionsomewhereinAmerica."

Stellamadealittleface.

"It is going to be a horribleweek-end," she said. "He is bringing down hisphotographicalbums—youknowhowmorbidlyinterestedStanleyisinthesedreadfulthings."

"IwonderwhetherStanleyinterestshimasapsychiatristorasanindividual?"

Shesmiledfaintlyatthis.

"That's not very kind: you know Stanley—he does manage to impressscientists:hetookupthestudyofcriminologyafterhelosthisinterestinthebreedingofAngorarabbits."

Shewouldhavechangedtheconversation,buthedetectedsomethingoddinher tone, in theveryabruptnesswithwhich she turned toanother topic, andquestionedher.

"Well..." she hesitated. "I am nervy. I had a horrid experience last night.PerhapsStanleythinksIammadtoo.Ireallycametoaskyouradvice."

She had heard movements in her room and had wakened in time to see ablurredsilhouetteagainstthemoonlitcorridor.

"Stanley,"suggestedPeter,butsheshookherhead.

"He sleeps in the next room. Stanley snores dreadfully. I could hear himthroughthewall.Itmusthavebeenaburglar.Ifoundmyhandbagonthefloor.Itwasopen,""Nothinggone?"

"Nothing....At least, onlyDr.Fifer's letterwhichStanleyhadgivenmeandwhichIhadputinmybag.Aburglarwouldhardlybreakintoone'shousetostealaletter.Iscreamed:itdidnotwakeStanley,butitfrightenedtheburglar.Skipperheardmeandcamedown.HewantedtowakeStanley,butIwouldn'thavethat.ItwasSkipperwhofoundthehandbagonthefloornearthebed."

"Cananybodygetadmissiontothehouse'?"askedPeter."Imean,anyoftheservantswhosleepoutside?"Shethoughtforamoment.

"I'dforgottenthat.Yes—thechauffeur.Heisnotagoodchauffeur,butStanleyknewhisgrandfather.Youknowhowoddheisinchoosingservants."

Peterthoughtquickly.

"Iwill comedownonSaturdaymorning,"he said, "unless this fellowboresmeatlunch,inwhichcaseIwon'tcomedownatall."

ButDr.Fiferdidnotborehim.Hewasa tall,gauntman,andhisbeardwasmoregreythanblack.Hewasaneasymantoentertain.forhetalkedmostofthetimeandwasonlycontent to listenwhenPeterdescribedthemethodsofScotlandYard.

"Youhavenopsychiatrist?Well,Ishouldnotliketosayyouarewrong.Alotofpsychiatry isbunk.Youcan't alwaysget themental slantsof convictsbymaking,themdrawsquaresandtrianglesandbygettingthemtofindtheirwayout of a picturemaze. You can get them by listening to them, encouragingthemtotalk,kiddingtheirvanities—andtheyhavegotplentyofthem.—Takepoisoners—"

Petersmiled.

"I am the last authority on themind of the poisoner," he said, and told thedoctorthestoryofMr.GreeleyBletsall,whichwashislastbigcase.

DrFiferlistenedkeenly,keepinguparapidfireofquestions.

"Humph! I can do oneworse than that! By theway, youwill have anotherpoisoncaseinyourhands:theyrunintwos.Gassuicidesruninfours,crimesofjealousyinthrees....It'sodd,butthereitis.Thereisalawgoverningsuchrhinos. I had a man in my institution who poisoned his mother-in-law, hiswife,thefamilydoctorandaUnitedStatessheriff,afellownamedRoanby—anEnglishman.HewasturnedovertoaninstitutioninMassachusettsafterIhadhimayear.Bynotestwashemad.Infact,Iwastheonlypsychiatristwhogaveevidenceonhisbehalf—Isavedhimfromthedeathpenalty.Poisoners.as a rule, are the sanestmurderers that ever comebeforea judge—Ibelievethisfellowwasmad.HewasmypetpatientandIhatedlikehelllosinghim.Ingenious?Hewasdiabolicallyclever!Inoneofthemurdersheusedwhisky—woodalcoholstuff.Naturally,thecoronersaid'misadventure'...."

Peterlookedforwardtomeetingthepsychiatristduringtheweek-end.Hewasfated to seehim—butnot alive.Dr.Fifer arrivedon theFridayafternoonatFelbourne Manor, and he was not in the best of tempers: when taking hisovercoatandsuitcase from thecar inwhichhearrived,Skipperdropped thedoctor'sglassesonthegroundandsmashedthem,andwithouthisglasseshewasablindman.

"IneverwearthemwhenIamtravelling,"hesnapped(Stanleywastryingtosuggestmethodsbywhichthemisfortunemighthavebeenavoided)."Isleepincars:only idiots lookat scenery. Ifyour servanthadnotbeen thebiggestfool—However. itdoesn'tmatter: Icangetapair frommyhotel.Howtheyfelloutisamystery.Ihaveaspecialpocketformyglasses."

The spare pair arrivedby specialmessenger after dinner, andwith them themessengerbroughtanumberofletterswhichhadarrivedbythemail.Itwasafter reading these that his manner changed; he scarcely spoke, seemed toStella to grow nervous. He asked Stanley Harrivay if it was possible totelephonetoBoston,andiftherewasatelephoneinhisbedroom(therewas,inpoint of fact, an extension).At ten o'clock that night his call came through.Fromthathourhedidnot leavehis room, thedoorofwhichhehad locked,excepttocomeoutforafewminutesandbawlagood-nightinhisoldmanner,beforeheretiredforthenight.

HisbedroomwasnexttoStanley's.whoheardhimmovingabout;heardhimagainathalfpastseventhenextmorning.EachroomatFelbourneManorhadabathroomattached.Twobathrooms, thatofStanleyand thedoctor's.hadacommunicatingdoor.whichwaslockedandboltedonbothsides.

Stanley heard him "pottering about", as he subsequently put it, in thebathroom, and a little later the click of the lock turning. Stanley shouted'Good-morning'throughthecloseddoor.Heheardthedoctorgrowlsomething

andthen:

"Howdoyouownthisfaucet?"

Itwasthenthatthehostrememberedthatthecoldwatertapofthewashbasinwas out of order. If you knew the trick of it, it was easy to turn. Stanleybawledhisinstructionsthroughthedoor.Apparentlythedoctortriedtoturnonthecoldwater,butunsuccessfully.

"All right. all right," he boomed testily. "I am taking a bath so it doesn'tmatter."

Heheardthebathtapsturnedoff,thentheclinkofglassagainstglass.Almostimmediatelyafterheheardaroarofpainandthethudofaheavybodyfalling.Hetriedtogetthroughintothebathroom,butthedoorwasbolted.Flyingoutof his room hemade an unsuccessful attempt to get in through the doctor'sbedroom.Notonlythat,but thebathroomwaslocked.Itwasaquarterofanhour before the doors were broken open and Dr. Fifer's dead body wasdiscovered.

ThenewscomethroughtotheYardwhilstPeterwasinhisoffice,andhewasthe first to jump from the police car when it drew up under the portico ofFelbourneManor.Stellawaswaiting to receivehim, forhehad 'phonedherthathewascoming.Heexpectedtohadherhysterical,butshewascalm,andhervoicewassteady.Shealoneofthehouseholdwasabletogiveacoherentaccountofwhathadhappened.

Stanley,whohadmadehisappearancealmost immediately,was inapitiablestateofcollapse.

"It's a terrible thing to have happened.... Such a clever man. I'm sure it issuicide.HasStellatoldyou.MyGod,it'sawful!"

Itwas some time before Peter could get Stella alone, and then he heard asmuchofthestoryasshecouldtell.

Hewentupstairsandsawtheunfortunateman.Hewaslyingonthebedandwasstillwearinghispyjamas.ThepolicesurgeonwhohadexaminedintotookPeterbythearmandledhimoutside.

"If this isn't a case of cyanide poisoning I've never seen one?" he said. "Ishouldthinkit'saveryordinarysuicide,butwe'llbeabletotellaccuratelythecauseofdeathinafewdays."

Peterreturnedtothebedroom.Itwasabigapartment,comfortablyfurnished,andleadingoutwasthebathroom,wherethebodyhadbeenfound.Onatable

werelaidoutthedeadman'sshavingkitandsucharticlesoftoilet,hairbrush,comb,etc.,ashemightrequire.Thedetectiveswhohadsearchedtheroomhadnotfoundanysignofpoison.Therewasawaterbottle,onaglassshelf.Itwasthreepartsfull,andoveritwasaninvertedglass.

Whenthebathroomdoorhadbeenforcedthecoldwaterfaucet in thewash-basinwasrunning.

"Wefoundthis."saidthedivisional inspector,whocameinwhilstPeterwasexamining the room. Itwas in the pocket of his dressing gown,whichwashangingupbehindthedoor."

'This' was an automatic pistol, the magazine of which contained ninecartridges,thetenthbeinginthechamber.

"Thesafetycatchisn'tup.Itlooksasthoughhewasexpectingtouseitatanymoment.Herearesomepaperswefoundinthewastepaperbasket,"

The 'papers'wereCableforms.Oneachhadbeenwrittenanaddress"SalineBoston"andafewwordsofanunfinished—message.

Thefirstran:

"Incasecannotreachyouby'phonewantyoucheckupWalterRoanby...."

Thesecondbegan:

"CheckwhereaboutsRoanbyEnglishpoisonertransferred1926...."

Thethirdwasillegibleforthewordshadbeenerased.

On the dressing table were the letters the deadman had received the nightbefore,andPeterreadthemthrough.Tohissurprisetheywerebusinessletters,noneofwhichcontainedtheleastexcusefortheperturbationwhichthedoctorhadshownafterreading.

Peterwentintothebathroomandexaminedeveryobjectcarefully.Ifthemanhadcommittedsuicidehewascertainhewouldfindthebottleorcartonwhichcontained the poison.Even if it had been in pellet shape itwould have hadsome wrapping. There was nothing of this character. He went down to theservants'quartersandinterviewedSkipper.

"No, sir, no servant went to his bedroom this morning. He did not havemorningteaoranythingelse.Infact,hetoldthemistresshedidnotrequireit."

After the body had been removed, Peter made another search of the room.Who was Walter Roanby? The English poisoner who was transferred to—

Massachusetts! It was at that moment that Peter connected the dead man'sreminiscences with the murder. But evidently the cables had been begunbeforethetelephonemessagefromBostoncarnethrough,

BeforehewasconnectedwiththeTransatlantictelephone,PeterputaninquirythroughtoLondon,andwhilstbewasexaminingtheroom,hewascalledbythecentralservicewhogavehimtheBostonnumberthatthedoctorhadaskedforonthepreviousnight.

Helookedathiswatch:itwaseleveno'clock—thatwouldbesixo'clockinthemorninginBoston,andthelinewouldbefairlyclear.Herepeatedthenumberandmadeanurgentrequestforimmediateconnection.Whilsthewaswaitingfor this,hecontinuedhissearch,andreread the letters thathadcomeby themessengerfromLondon.Theywereveryordinarybusinessletters, thatfromAmericabeingaboutthedoctor'snewbook,andrequestinganelucidationofsomepassagewhichwasnotcleartotheprinters'reader.

Hewentintothebathroomandagaininspecteditscontents.Theinvertedglassoverthewaterbottleinterestedhim.Hefelttheinside—itwasquitedry.Thecommunicating door between the doctor's bathroom and Stanley's had beenunlocked,andhepassedthrough.Thetoiletfurnishingswereidentical.Therewas the sameglass and the samebottle,butunlike thebottle in thedoctor'sbathroom,thisonewasfull,andtheinvertedglasswaswet.Thereweredropsofwaterontheoutsideofthebottlewhereithaddrained.

HewentoutintothecorridorandcalledStanley.

"Yes,Iopenedthecommunicatingdoor.IunlockedmineandpushedtheboltbackwhenIheardhimfall.WhenIfoundhimdeadIunlockedhissideofthedoor."

"Youhaven'ttakenanywateroutofthisbottlethisMorning?"

Stanleyshookhishead.

Peterpouredoutalittledropofwaterfromthedoctor'sbottle,puthisfingerinand tasted it. Therewas neither the smell nor the taste of cyanide, and theroughtestmadeonthewater,whichhadbeensenttotheanalyst,broughthimno nearer to the solution of themystery, nor did he expect to find that thewaterwaspoisoned,hewasstilllookingatthebottlewhenthetelephonebellrangand.afteradelayofaminute,asleepyvoicedemandedhisbusinessinastrongAmericanaccent,

Bygreatluckhehadreachedtheonemantowhomhewishedtospeak,andthenineminutes'conversationbehadwasveryilluminating,.

Walter Roanby had escaped from the institution two years before and haddisappeared,

"Thedoctorwasmadatusfornotlettinghimknow,buthehasbeentravellingfortwoyears—hewenttoChinaandIndia—andIguesshedidnotreadanyAmericannewspapers.Yes,Roanbyescaped—rodethetrainoutofBostontoPhiladelphia. He was seen there and chased by a Yard cop. Went west, Ibelieve;we'veheardnomoreabouthimsince."

Peter asked a number of questions, only a few of which the institutesuperintendentcouldanswer.

"Clever?Ishouldsayhewas!Heescapedbydruggingtheguard:hegot thedrug out of the dispensary by soaking the corner of his handkerchief inmorphineeverytimehecametothedrugstore,andcollecteditdropbydrop."

Peterhadthedoctor'sovercoatbroughttohim.Inoneofthebig,sidepocketshe found the spectacle case containing the smashed glasses. The case itselfwas crushed andmud-stained and bore the heelmark of the clumsy butler.Searching he found the place into which the case usually fitted, It was anarrow pocket on the left breast of the coat, andwhen Peter pushed in theflattenedcase,hefoundthatitfittedtightly.

StanleyHarrivayasawitnesswasentirelyuselessanditwastoStellathatheturnedforinformation.

"Doyourememberdiscussingthedoctoratdinner?"heasked.

Therehadbeensuchadiscussionshesaid,

"Didyoumentionhimbyname?"

Hereshewastogivehimanemphaticanswer.

"No.Stanleyhasanexasperatingmemoryfornames,andcouldnottellme—hehad left thedoctor's letterupstairs inhis room,andbrought itdownstairsjustasIwasgoingtobed,andIputitintomybag—itwasratheralongletterand Iwasn't terribly interested, but didn'twant to hurt Stanley's feelings byskimmingitinfrontofhim."

ThateveningPeterwenttothelocalstationandhadalongconferencewiththedivisioninspectorandthepolicesurgeon.

Ataquartertoseven,whenSkipperwaslayingthetable,hefoundtheroomsuddenlyfilledwithcompletestrangers.Hemadeafight,butnotthefightheintended,becausehishandwasneverleftfreetopullthegunhecarried.

"It was the tooth brush that put me on the track." explained Peter to hissuperior. "Itwaswet and therewas no reasonwhy it should bewet for theglassinwhichitshouldhavebeensoakedwasbonedryinspiteofthefactthataglassfulofwaterhadbeenpouredout.Fifercouldn'tturnthetaporfaucetasbecalledit.YetitwasrunningwhenStanleynoticedit—whichwasprobablysometimeafterthemurder.Onlyapersonacquaintedwiththecoldwatertapcould have turned it on—that person was Roanby, or Skipper, as he calledhimself.ThepeculiarfactInoticedwasthatalthoughthebrushwaswet,therewas no toothpaste, but there was the leaden screw top of a paste tube.Somebodyhadremovedthepaste—thesomebodywhohadwashedthetoothbrush. The poison was in the paste. We found the tube at the bottom ofSkipper'strunk.

"It was one of the unlikely chances of life that brought Fifer to the house.Skipper knew him well and hated him, though Fifer had testified to theprisoner'sinsanityathistrial,anditwashisevidencethathadsavedthemanfrom the chair. Skipper heard at dinner that a psychiatristwas coming, and,althoughthenamewasnevermentioned,hehadafeelingthatitwasFifer.HesawStanleyHarrivaygivealettertohiswife,andwentintoherbedroomthatnighttomakeabsolutelysurethatitwasFiferwhowascoming.

"Thatheshouldregardthemanwhosavedhislifeasanenemymayseemoddtothosewhodonotunderstandaconvict'sattitudetowardsthoseinauthority.Thedoctormeantexposureand,asSkipperbelieved,rearrestandextradition.

"Hehadstudiedthedoctorwhenhewasaninmateoftheinstitution.andknewhissightwaspoor.HetoldmethatifFiferrecognisedhimhewouldhaveshothim on the spot. He had already staged an accident and had taken out andloaded Stanley's gun, and put it under the portico. But the doctor was notwearing his glasses, Skipper snatched the coat, jerked the glasses underfootandbrokethem.Hehadmadesocarefulastudyofthedoctor'shabitsthatbeknew exactly where the glasses would be. Anyway, it saved an unpleasantshootingaccident.

Unfortunatelyforhim,anotherpairofglasseswasavailable.Whenherealisedthegamewasup,hewentupstairs,wherehehadlaidoutthedoctor'skit,andinjectedcyanideintohistooth-pastewithahypodermicneedle.Hemusthavedonethisduringthedinner.

"Apparentlythedoctordidnotusepasteonhisteethovernight.Eventhenhehopedtoescaperecognition,butnosoonerhadFiferputonhisglassesthanherecognisedtheman,thoughevidentlyhewasnotcertain—hencethetelephonemessage toBoston.Buthewasmoodyand silent after that.They thought itwasbecausehehadhadbadnews in the letters.Thereal reasonwas thathe

was almost certain that hewas sleeping under the same roof as a desperatemurderer.Hesleptwithagununderhispillowthatnight.Itwasfoundinhisdressing-gownpocket.

"Thedoctorcouldnotturnonthetap,yetitwasrunning.ItwasSkipperwho,intheconfusionfollowingthediscoveryofthebody,turnedonthetaptowashthe glass, and, passing through into Stanley's bathroom, substituted one foranother."

Walter Roanby, alias Skipper, was hanged at Pentonville Gaol. He had nopsychiatrist to testify to his insanity, for the onlymanwhobelievedhewasmadwasdead—haddiedathisownhands.

CHAPTERV

SUPERINTENDENTLEIGH,oftheCriminalInvestigationDepartment,wasadifficultmantoplease.Thebestjobofworkearnednomorefromhimthanagruntwhichhadinitanunnecessaryamountofdisparagement.ItwasalegendthatifMr.Leigheverexpressedhispleasureandapprobationitwouldbehislastconsciousutteranceonearth.

He had never approved of PeterDunn; but then, he had never approved ofanybody.HetoldPeterhewasalittletooconspicuousintheservice,andsaidthismanytimes.

"You're too confident, sergeant, too infernally sure. I don't say you're anyworsethananyyoungofficer,butthenpolicemenarelikethatnowadays.Theoldbrandofdiscreetofficerisdyingout—infact,isalmostdead."

Peterwassorrythatitwasnotquitedead,butwiselyhedidnotexpressthisopinion.

Hecertainlywasconspicuous.AlmosteverypolicemanhadheardofPeter,hisfortuneandhisbaronetcy.HehadevenexcitedthecuriosityofAnnKelski.

ShelearnedofPeterfromMikeLeary.Asawomanshewasnotunnaturallyintriguedby thephenomenonofa titledpoliceman;asanartist she resentedtherespectwithwhichhercompanionspokeofthisofficer.

"Allcopsaredumb."shesaid,andfeltthatexperiencejustifiedhercontempt.Shewas a little slangy at that period, for shehadbeenplaying aroundwithMike and the Stack gang,whowere one hundred per centers and had theirhauntsinwholesomeAmericancities,someofwhichwouldhavebeengladto

entertaintheremainderoftheirbodiesintheStategaol.

Ann felt superior to policemen just then, for she had lifted a millionmarkpearl necklace froma storeonUnter denLinden andhadwalked through acordonofrubber.truncheonedpolicemen,withthepearlsinsideherneatlittlehat.

HereditycountedwithAnn.whowas thedaughterof thebest jewel thief intwo continents; she was by birth British, European by education, whollydangerous,completelywithoutscruples,clever.

ShecametoLondon,spentthreemonthsatafashionablehotel,thensentforMikeLeary todoa jobwhichshehadsocarefullyplanned thatevenMike,whowasonthedumbside,couldnotpossiblyfallintoerror.

PeterDunn stored inhis headodd scrapsof information concerningpeople,and the name ofAnnKelskiwas in a faint and elusiveway oddly familiar.There are certain American publications which carry interesting articles onthosecriminalswhooperateexclusivelyonthecontinentofEurope.anditwasthrough this medium that he had made a fleeting acquaintance with theingeniousAnn.

There seemed little likelihood of his coming into personal contact with the"big shots" of the continental underworld, for these ladies and gentlemenusuallygiveGreatBritainawideberth.ButhedidmeetMikeLeary.

"There'stoomuchlawinyourdam'countryandtoomuchseaaroundit."

ThusdidMikesummarisethedisadvantagesofoperatinginEngland.Andhesaidthisinamomentofgreatbitternessandsinceritywhen,withhandcuffsonhiswristsandastrapabouthisankles,hewasbeingbroughtbackfromDoverbyPeterDunntoanswerachargeofbreakingintotheCentralMidlandBank.The strap was necessary, for Mike had made an attempt to leap from thewindowofthecarriageinwhichhewastravelling.

Hemadenoreference toAnnKelski,andhernamewasnotassociatedwiththeoffenceevenwhenitwasdiscoveredthatMikecarriednoneofthestolenproperty,whichwas remarkable, for thepolicehadbeenhotonhis scent. Itwasknownthathehadworkedsingle-handed.Hehadbeenseenleavingthehankandhadbeenchased.Peter,whohadchargeof thecase,couldaccountforalmosteveryminuteof theman's time,and therehadbeendetectivesonthe boat train keeping him under observation, and every person whoapproachedhimorspoketohimhadbeendetainedatDoverandsearched—everybody except the people who occupied the coupé at the end of thePullmancar.Thesewereamiddle-agedlady,accompaniedbyagawkynurse-

girlcarryingababy.ThewomanwasquestionedbecauseLearyhadstoppedinthedoorwaytospeaktothechild.

Butnobodyhaddreamedofsearchingthebaby.anditwasintheshawlwhichswatheditthatsomeseventythousandpounds'worthofnegotiablebondswenttoFrance.

PeterknowonlythisaboutAnnKelski, thatshewaspersonable,wasBritishbybirth,andforthreeyearshadbeenanactressinParis.ShehadnoEnglishdomicile, and save for his fleeting acquaintance with her in the AmericanPressandtheknowledgethatshehadservedaterminaFrenchprison.hehadno exact knowledge of her. If a quarter-page drawing he had seen meantanything. shewasbeautiful;butdrawingsareapt tobedeceptivewhen theyare published in Sunday supplements, where all lady crooks are ipso factobeautiful.

MikeLearywentdowntotheshadeswiththephilosophicalfortitudewhichispartoftheprofessional'sequipment.Hegavenoinformationaboutthestolenproperty, thoughitwashintedtohimthatasqueal thatrecoveredthemoneywouldmakequiteanappreciabledifferencetothelengthofhissentence,

Itwas natural that the newspapers should not forget that, though the robberhad been convicted, the stolen money had not been found. A crime experttalked of awoman accomplice, andPeter very rashly expressed an opinion,whichwasprinted.

"Thecleverwomanbankrobberisasheerlyimaginativecharacter.Womenaredecoys,swindlers,larcenists,buttheyarenotcleverenoughtoundertakeworkofthisdescription."

Peter-made this statement after avery irritating interviewwithMr.Leigh. Itwas a statement (said that officer)which no policeman shouldmake in anycircumstances, and when Peter read it in print he was aghast at his ownindiscretion.Heacceptedtheinevitableofficialreprimandfor"improperlyandwithout consulting his superiors making an unauthorised communication tothePress"withpatienceandgoodhumour.

But thebiggest kickof all hadyet to come.AnnKelski readhis views andquiveredwithannoyance;shewasthatmuchfeminine.

MostofthethingsshesaidaboutPeterDunnandtheEnglishpolicegenerallywere unprintable, for she spoke worse languages than French, German andEnglish.Somegreatartistsaretouchyandmorbidlysensitiveaboutthequalityoftheirwork,andthemildestcriticismisresented.Annwasoneofthese.AndreallyMr,Dunnhadofferedheran injustice, for shewasabrilliantwoman,

and"ingenious"isapalewordtoemptywhendescribingtricksofherswhichwere as clever as any devised by a modern magician, and impersonationswhichcertainlyoutshonetheapplaudedeffortsofrealactresses;foritwasshewhososuccessfullypaintedachequeforamillionfrancsandpasseditattheCreditLyonnaisunder theeyesandwith theapparentapprovalofarichandelderly admirerwhohadgivenher a cheque for ten thousand tobuya littlepresentshedesired.Shehadtakenthisnear-sightedmantothebank,pushedthechequetotheteller,and,withtheaidofaconfederatewhodistractedtheunhappyman'sattentionwhilst themoneywaspaid,walkedoutof thebankwithhervictim—andthemoney.

ItwasAnnKelskiwhoclearedthestockofaViennesejewellerbyatricksosimplethattodescribeitindetailwouldbeagainstpublicpolicy.

"PeterDunn—SergeantPeterDunn—say,what's themeaning of that 'Sir' infrontofhisname?"

Somebody explained the mystery of the baronetage, but she was neitherimpressednorinterested,fortitlesmeantnothingtoher.

ShetookherselftoCannesandspentaweekinterviewinglikelyassistantsforthetaskshehadinhand.

"Learywasahadbreak.Done?Notdone,butdead!I'dhaveaskedyoutodothejob,Walter,butyouwereinEgypt."

Walter Henkel grinned his appreciation of this compliment. He also was acleverman and a quickworker. Itwas no coincidence that PeterDunnwasacquaintedwithMr.AaronBaumstein, the diamondmerchant.He had beenworking with the City police on a case which touched several wholesalejewellers but did not touch this gentleman at all, he discovered when heinterviewed him. Mr. Baumstein was a thickset, shabby-looking man, whoworeaslightlysoiledcollarandashabbytie,andwasworthtwomillions.HehadhishomeinMaidaVale,and,tocounteracthismanyadmirablequalities,he had oneweakness: hewas a gambler in amodestway, and patronised aclubnear theHaymarket.There are suchplaces inLondon—forbidden, it istrue,bythepolice—buttherearesuchplaces.Helovedtositforacoupleofhoursatagreenboard,happyintheknowledgethatitwasaperfectlystraightgame.andusuallyheroseawinneroraloserofafewpounds.

ItwasintheclubthatPetermethimforthesecondtime.ScotlandYardwasmakingoneof itsperiodical round-ups,and theclub inquestionwasraided.Mr.Baumstein,withthenaiveteofonewhohadbeenbornin,andacquaintedwith the policemethods of. other countries, asked that his name should besuppressed and offered a substantial bribe,whichPeter very good-naturedly

refused."Itdoesn'tmatteraboutyourname;therearehundredsofBaumsteinsinLondon.HaveyouanyotheraddressthantheoneinMaidaValeandHattonGarden?"

Mr.Baumsteingavetheaddressofhismother:but,thoughhewascheerfulinthe confidence that he had escaped identification, there wasn't anybody inHattonGardenorMaidaValewhodidnotknowthatMr.A.BaumsteinofSt.John'sWoodwasMr.A.BaumsteinofMaidaVale.

Petergottoknowhim,andwenttohisofficewithgreaterinterestbecausethelittlemanwasveryproudofthefactthathiswastheonlyburglar-proofofficein Hatton Garden. It had a fool-proof system of burglar alarms. After Mr.Baumsteinhadlockedhisofficeandthefrontdoor,itwasimpossibletowalkacrossaroom,muchlessopenthewindow,withoutashrillbellannouncingtotheconstabularyoftheCityofLondonthattherewereunauthorisedvisitorstoNo. 608 Hatton Garden. "Some people spend their money on safes andvaults,"saidMr.Baumstein."I'mallforalarms.Thereisn'tasafeintheworldthat one of these American smashers can't open. I'm speaking fromexperience."

Hecouldpointwithjustificationtothefactthatthreeattemptshadbeenmadetoenterhisoffice andhad failed.That scientificburglars shoulddirect theirattentiontohispremiseswasonlynatural:hecarriedalargerstockofbigbluediamonds than anymerchant in London. Peter saw them reposing in velvetcasesinthesteelsafeinthefrontoffice.

"Ifyoutouchthathandleitrings;ifyoumovethattelephoneanalarmrings;ifyou open any window in the building, nothing can stop the bell ringing.Suppose somebodyconceals themselveson thepremises—that's theway it'salways done—they could hardlymove a dozen stepswithout setting off thealarm."

Peterwasimpressed.

He had forgotten Mr. Baumstein, and was still aching from the CentralMidland robbery,when he received a note. It was delivered by hand to hishouse in Berkeley Square and was written on the notepaper of the Ritz-Carlton.

"DearSirPeterDunn,

I wonder if youwould care to seeme this afternoon at four o'clock inmysuite?IamratherthrilledbysomethingIhavediscoveredinFrance,whichIthinkwouldinterestyou."

Itwassigned"MillicentClarke."

Itwas not an uncommon name.He had a dim idea that he hadmet aMrs.Clarkebefore somewhere, but couldnotplaceher.Nor,whenhe called thatafternoon, did he recognise, in the very dainty ladywho received him, anyacquaintancethathecouldremember.

Shewas rather pretty and voluble and important. He gathered that shewasmarriedandthatherhusbandwasnotinEngland.

"You'llthinkIamoneofthosebusybodieswhoplaguethepolice."shesmiled."Harry toldmeIshouldbesnubbedformypains,but itwassuchfun that IthoughtI'dwritetoyou.Justwaitonemoment."

Shewentoutoftheroomandcamebackwithapaperinherhand.

"First of all. tellme if you know anything about that." Peter had no soonerglancedat it thanheknewwhat itwas: itwasabearerbond,oneofasmalldenomination that had formedpart of the loot that had been taken from theCentralMidland.

"Howdidyougetthis?"heasked.

"It ispartof therobbery. isn't it?"sheaskedeagerly."Ireadabout itwhenIwas inMonteCarlo, but I didn't suspect anything till I saw the little rubberstampontheback.Itisveryfaint—youcanjustseeit.Theyevidentlytriedtogetitout—Harrysayswithsomekindofacid.It'strue—thisispartoftheloot—isthattheword?"

Peternodded.

She was so obviously delighted by the confirmation of her suspicions thatPeterfoundhimselfsmilinginsympathy.Hecouldaffordtosmile:outofthebluehadcome,fromthemostunexpectedquarter,theoneandonlycluetothehidingplaceofthelostbonds.

"Isn'tittooexciting!Harry—myhusbandisHarryAuburnClarke—hasbeenvery sarcastic aboutme.... tellingme I shouldbeadetective.But itwas therubberstampmarkandthefactthatsomebodyhadtriedtorubitaway—Iusedamagnifyingglasstofindthat—thatmademethinkofthebankrobbery—"

"Willyoutellmehowyoucameintopossessionofthisbond?"

Peter should have known better than to attempt to anticipateMrs. Clarke'sstory.Firstofallshehadtotellhimwhatherhusbandhadsaidandwhatshehadreplied;thenshehadtoexplainhowonthreeseparateoccasionsprevious

to this her husband had been emphatic on a point and she had beenemphaticallyinopposition.andithadbeenprovedthatshewasright.

PeterDunnwashumanandwasagoodaudienceforanyprettywoman.Shecame back from her digressions long before he began to feel any violentsymptomsofimpatience.

"ImetheratMonteCarlo—thewomanwhogavemethis—MadameKelskoorKelskior somesuchsame.Shewasbeautifullydressed, ratherprettyandverycharming,ShespeaksEnglishwithastrongAmericanaccent. Isn't thatwonderfullyobservantofme?"

It was at that moment that Ann Kelski became a real entity to Peter.Canvassing all the continental crooks he knew or had heard about, he haddwelt for a moment on this lady's name, had even gone to the RecordDepartmenttosearchforherhistory,butwithoutresult.

"Itwasatabridgeparty."theladywenton."I'mafraidthestakeswerehigh,andMrs.Kelskoorwhateverhernamewas, lost. Idon't like taking I.O.U.'sfrom strangers, and they were such terribly bad players, and I was ratherrelievedwhensheaskedmeifI'dtakeabearerbondforahundredpoundsandgiveherthechange,whichwasabouttwenty-five.ThatnightatdinnerImetsomeofthepeoplewhowereatthebridgeparty,butnobodyseemedtoknowwho she was or how she came to be invited to the house. It was PrincessChimizDiliski's,andshedoesinvitetheoddestpeople.ThenonedayIwentdowntoMarseillestomeettheboatwhichwasbringingHarrybacktoFrancefromIndia,andtomyamazementIsawher.Shewasverypoorlydressedandwaswalkingquicklywithaman.Iwastakingashortcuttothedocks.andtomysurprise they turned intooneof thosemiserable lookinghousesyoufindnear thewater front inMarseilles. Therewas no number on the door, but Ishouldrecogniseit."

"Didyouseeheragain?"

Sheshookherhead.

"No."Shehesitated,andthen,withaburstoffrankness:"ifyouthinkthereisanything,init,Icanshowyouthehouse.I'mgoingbacktoMonteCarlothedayafter tomorrowtojoinmyhusband,andwecouldstopoffatMarseilles.He'llsendthecartomeetus.Iknowthestreet—theRueMediterranean."

To say that Peter was elated is to put the case judiciously. He was alsointenselycurious.HewentbacktoScotlandYard,walkingonair,andtoldhisstorytothedailyconferencewhichwassitting.Thechiefexaminedthebond:abankofficialwashastilysummoned,andhewasemphaticthatthiswaspart

oftheproceedsoftheCentralMidlandrobbery.

PetertelephonedMrs.ClarkefromScotlandYardandarrangedtomeetheratVictoriatwodayslater.HespentthenextclaycollectingsuchpapersasmightbenecessarytosecurethearrestofAnnKelski,and, ifshewereBritish,herextradition.

ThatnightoccurredwhatScotlandYardstillregardsastheclassiccrimeofthecentury.At half past six a policemanwas patrollingHattonGarden.At thatearly hour the streets were thronged with people, the road occupied withvehicles, forHattonGarden isashortcutbetweenHighHolbornandGray'sInnRoad.Hewas nearly opposite the premises occupied byMr.Baumsteinwhenheheardthedeafeningnoteoftheburglaralarm.Itwasfixedoutsidethebuildingtwostoreysup,andenclosedinaperforatedironcasenothatitcouldnotpossiblybetamperedwith.

Thepolicemanblewhiswhistle,andalmost immediately thewindowon thesecondfloorwasthrownopenandthefigureofafrightenedgirlappeared.

"Isthereanythingwrong?"shoutedthepoliceman,andinhystericaltonesshetoldherstory.

ShewasMr.Baumstein's secretary.Hehadgonehomeaquarterof anhourbefore, when she was putting on her hat in the retiring room, and he hadlockedthedoor,undertheimpressionthatshehadalreadyleft.

Bythistimeotherpolicemenbadarrived,includingthedivisionalinspector.Abigcrowdhadgathered.notunamusedbythegirl'spredicament.Thepolice,realising thatwhathadhappenedwasoneof thoseminor tragediesofofficelife, contented themselves with dispersing the crowd, whilst one of theirnumberwenttothenearesttelephonetocallupMr.Baumstein,whowasnotathome. Itwassuggested that the firebrigadeshouldbecalledand that thegirlshouldhebroughtdown,buttothisshewouldnotagree,pretendingshewas too frightened. For an hour and ten minutes she stood at the window,talking. to thepoliceofficerbelow.InthemeantimeScotlandYardhadbeencommunicatedwith, and,knowinghispassion forcards.Petergavea listofclubsatwhichthediamondmerchantmightbefound,andinoneofthesehewasdiscoveredandtoldwhathadhappened."Secretary?"hesaid,astonished,'Mysecretary'saman,andheleftanhourbeforeIdid.Ihavetwotypists,buttheywentoutwithmysecretary to thepostoffice.Asamatterof fact, theyaskedtobeallowedtogoearly;theyweregoingtoatheatre."

PeterjumpedintoacabandcameflyinghacktoHattonGarden.Longbeforehereachedthere,thegirlhadleftthewindow.Thealarmbellstillcontinueditsinfernal tintinnabulation; it couldnotbe stilleduntilBaumstein arrivedwith

thesecretpasskeywhichturnedoffthecurrent.

Heopenedthedoorforthewaitingofficers,whohadheardbytelephonetheresultofhiscommunication,andtheyfollowedhimupstairs.Thefrontroomwas litteredwithhousebreaking tools: thedoorof thebig safehungopen, abigholeburnt in itsface,Therewasneithergirlnorburglars tobefound.Apacketofsixty-threelargediamonds,valuedat£84,000,andtwootherpacketsoflessvaluehadvanished.

PeterwasatScotlandYardwhen thenewscame through. ItwasaCity job,and.thoughreportedtopoliceheadquarters,nohelpwasasked..

"Thecleverestjobwithinmyrecollection,"saidthechiefadmiringly."Thegirlofcourseappearedinthewindowtoexplainwhythealarmbellwasringing,andjustassoonassheappearedthebreakersgottoworkandwereworkingallthetimeshewastalkingtothatbutt-headedcopperonthestreet.Theyclearedout the way they came. They had forced the back window at exactly themomentsheforcedthefrontwindow—thebelldidn'ttellyouwhatparticularpart of the house was being interfered with, and naturally nobody took thetroubletoinspectthebackofthepremiseswhenitwasdiscoveredthatapoorlittleofficegirlhadbeenaccidentallylockedin."

PetercouldaffordtobeamusedashereadtheaccountwhilegoingdowntoDover.HeexplainedtothevivaciousMrs.Clarketheparticularsofthecase;she was at first shocked, then as lost in admiration as the most impartialsuperintendent.

Just before the train reached Dover she collected her belongings, and theywere many: small parcels and big parcels, handbags, rugs, jewel case, andthree books, tied together with string, to read on the train, and a packet ofchocolates from a leading London confectioner's, which, with her rug, shehanded to Peter, towards whom she had assumed the air and manner of aproprietor.

AtDover a shock awaited them; a cordonof policebarred all egress; everypassenger for the Continent was informed that the French Government haddemandedacarefulsearchofallbaggageforcontraband.PeterknewthattheFrench Government had asked nothing of the sort, and just what thecontrabandwasforwhichtheyweresearching.

Mrs. Clarke was indignant, but submitted at Peter's suggestion. He stoodwatchingwhilstpacketafterpacketwasopenedandexamined.Itwasratheraperfunctorysearch,forPeterhadexplainedtotheinspectorinchargethathewasaccompanyingthisprettyladyonduty.

HesawherthroughtheCustoms,andtheyenteredaCarriagewhichhadbeenreservedforthem.ItseemedtohimallthetimethatMrs.ClarkedidnotstoptalkingabouttheBaumsteinrobbery,whichhadevidentlycaughtholdofherimagination.

"I'm sure it was a woman's idea. But then, you don't think a great deal ofwomen,doyou?Perhapsyou'llbewiseroneofthesedays."

Just thatandnomore.Petersatfora longtime, listeningintently.Andthen,suddenly:

"Youmustgivememychocolates.HarrylovestheEnglishmake."

She leanedover and playfully tugged at the packet.which closely filled hispocket.

"Youmustletmetakecareofthem:you'llprobablylosethem,Mrs.Clarke,"hesaid.

To him the matter was plain sailing, but he was taking no chances, and,making an excuse, hewent forward to the refreshment car. There were notmany people on the train, and most of these were just awaking from theirsleep,for theyhadbeenwarnedthatPariswaswithinfifteenminutes.Ashecame to the door of his compartment, which he had left open he found itclosed,and theblindshadbeendrawndownover thewindowsandover theglasstopofthedoor.Itwasempty.Ashestoodlooking,hereceivedaviolentpunchbetweentheshouldersandstaggeredforward.

His first impressionwas that itwas theactofaclumsypassenger,butasheturned,thedoorclosedwithacrash,andthetwomenwhohadfollowedhiminto the compartmentwere standingwith their backs to thedoor, and in thehandofonewasaverybusinesslikelookingautomatic.

Peter could not see their faces. Dusk had fallen: the only light was theoverhead lamp,andabouteachman'schinandnosea silkhandkerchiefhadbeentied.

"I'lltakethatboxofchocolatesifyoudon'tmind.mister:andineaseyouthinkwe'rerehearsingacrookplay,I'mtellingyouthatI'llplugyouifyougivemeanytrouble—IoweyouoneforLeary.Stick'emup."

Peterobeyed.Oneofthemensteppedforwardandjerkedthepacketfromhispocket.

"Sitdown—andallI'vesaidbeforegoes."saidthefirstspeaker.

Tooffer resistancewas to invite suddendeath.Peterhadan instinct for realdanger, andknewexactlywhatwouldhappen if he droppedhis hand to theguninhishippocket.

In three minutes he was tied, wrists and ankles; a big woollen scarf waswrappedroundhismouthandhewasrolledontothefloorandundertheseat.Heheardthedooropen:twoslimanklescameintoview,andpresentlyhesawthemockingsmileofMrs.Clarke.

"Iwantyoutobeverynicetowomeninthefuture,SergeantDunn,"shesaid."I suppose you guessed what was in the chocolate box—the Baumsteindiamonds—andIsupposeyouwillalsoguessIwasthetypistwhowaslockedintheoffice."

Shewasdownonherkneesnow forgreater comfort,one slim, ringedhandrestingonthecarpet.Itwasanhouroftriumphwhichshecouldnotresist.

"Iwasmakingsureofgetting the stuffaway, so I thought I'dbringapoliceofficeralongwithmetocarryit!Wasitclever?"

Petercouldnotspeak,butnodded.

"That'scharmingofyou."Herlaughwaslongandsilvery.Hefeltthatinthatmomentshealmostforgavehimhisindiscretion.

Alittle later the traincametoastandstill;hoarsecriesof"facteurs"cametohis ears, and, rollingoutwith somedifficulty, hekicked at thedoor. It tookhimaquarterofanhour toget to theofficeof thestationpolice, forhehadsome business to do in the dining-car. and he was not concerned at themomentaboutAlinKelski,

Thainightheinterviewedthechiefofthepolice,whowasnotverysanguine.

"YoumightfindherinParis.butitisextremelyunlikely."hesaid."IhavejusthadatelephonemessagefromLeBourgetthatseveralprivateaeroplanesleftimmediatelyafter the trainarrived.Untilwecheek theirdestinationswecandonothing.Morelikelytheyhavegonebycar."

Oneofthechief'sguesseswasright.AnnKelskiandhertwocompanionshadbeen picked up by a fast car and driven back on their tracks towards theBelgian frontier.AtLille an aeroplane carried them toCologne,whereAnnKelskihadaflat.

It was a tired but triumphant woman who closed the door upon her twocompanions.

"I'dgivealotofmoneytoseethatpoorbull'sface,"shesaid,"andalotmoretohearjustwhatScotlandYardwillhavetosaytohim."

Shetookfromherbagtheflatpackage,cutthestringandremovedthebrownwrapping.Andthenshestared:shehadpackedthediamondsinaredbox,andthisonewaswhite.

With trembling hands she pulled open the lid—under a cover of papershavingswerechocolates.Justchocolatesandnothingmore,andonthetopalittlenotescrawledinpencil.

"Ihavean ideayoumightget thediamondsaway frommebefore Icanputyouinthehandsof thepolice.Incaseyoudo,Ihavemadecertainchanges.WiththecomplimentsofSergeantSirPeterDunn,C.I.D."

"IneverevenguessedIwascarryingthediamondsfortheladyuntilshegavemeahintthatIwasnotascleverasIthoughtIwas,"saidPetertothechief."Iexamined the box in the refreshment car, found, as I suspected, that itcontained the diamonds, and substituted a box of chocolates. The chef deservicewasveryobliging:hegotmeonetheexactsize.Ileftthediamondsinhis safe. I expected that all her boy friendswould bewaiting for her at theGareduNord,andItooknochances.Naturally,IshouldhavepinchedherassoonaswereachedParisifIcouldhavefoundaFrenchpoliceofficer.Ididn'tthinkthathergangwouldhetravellingonthetrain."

"That's the one thing you should have expected," saidSuperintendentLeighseverely.

CHAPTERXI

THEREisaregularandasteadyflowofforeigndossiersintoScotlandYard.Theyarewritteninavarietyoflanguagesanddealwithladiesandgentlemenwhohavedone thingswhich theyshouldnothavedone.PeterDunnmadeapracticeofstudyingthosedocumentswhichcamefromtheUnitedStates,forhewas compiling for headquarters a general review of themodus operandifollowedbycriminalsoperatingoutsideoftheBritishIsles.

In due course he came upon a short and unflattering biography of LewStillman, written by an unimaginative officer of Police Headquarters, NewYork City, who, if he lacked literary style. had a passion for facts. Peterstudiedthephotographwhichaccompaniedthedocument,andmemorisedtheface.Hedulynoted thatLewwasaBritish citizen.whichmadehima little

moredifficulttotracethanifhehadbeenofalienoriginandwascompelledtorecordhispresenceandmovementsatthenearestpolicestation.

Therewasnoneedtotracehim,forLewwasnot"Wanted"bythepolice.Hisdossier was forwarded as a precautionary measure, because the New Yorkpolice rather imagined that some day or other his life story would beinterestingtotheircomradeswholivedontheThames.

ToLew'sdocumentstheyattachedotherswhichdealtasfranklywiththepastmisdoingsofAlStephini.andHooferGenelli,and 'Tag'Murphyandseveralotherlow-downmenwholiveddangerouslybutwellontheproceedsoftheirillicitprofessions.

By a curious coincidence Peter met one of these gentlemen mentioned sounfavourablytheveryweekhemadetheacquaintanceoftheGardenCityofCollingwood.Inreallifethingshappenthatway.

Peter had left Scotland Yard about four o'clock in the afternoon and waswalking along Piccadilly to his house in Berkeley Square. That a detectivesergeantshouldliveinBerkeleySquarewasofitselfafantasticimprobability;that he shouldbe abaronetof theUnitedKingdomwas too absurd to thinkabout. But if grandfathers leave titles and fortunes, and grandsons desire toremaindetectivesergeants,suchanomaliesmustexist.

HehadreachedthecornerofBerkeleyStreetwhenhesawamanstandingontheedgeofthesidewalk,waitingforthetraffictopass.Hewasatall,olive-facedman.withalargeRomannoseandaprominentchin.Therewasalargeandglitteringdiamondonhislittlefinger—Petersawthisashelitacigar.

"'Lo,Hoofer.Stayinglong?"

HooferGenellilookedroundslowlyandsurveyedthedetectivelazily.

"Youhavetheadvantageofme."hesaid.

"YoubetIhave,"saidPeter."I'mDetectiveSergeantDunn,C.I.D."

"Isthatso'?"

Mr.Genelliwasnotapparentlyperturbed;hehadspentthegreaterpartofhislifeappearingunperturbedinembarrassingmoments,

"Well,I'mgladtomeetyou,Mr.Dunn.Yes,myname'sGenelli—justarrivedfromAmerica....stoppedoffonmywaytoParis.Don'tremembermeetingyouanywheres,Mr.Dunn?"

Peterdidnotattempttoexplainthathisrecognitionhadanythingtodowitha

verydetaileddescriptionwhichincluded:

"Bignoseandchin;scarleftcheek;wearsdiamonds."

"Takealittlewalkwithme,"saidPeter.

Mr.Genellihesitatedandfellinbyhisside.AtthenearestpolicestationPeterdiscoveredthatHoofer'spaperswerequiteinorder,andtheyhadalittleheart-to-hearttalk.

"You'llbeleavingforParisverysoon.Iexpect.Mr.Genelli?Londonisveryquiet—you'llfindParisamuchbrightercity."

"WhotoldyouIwashereanyway?"demandedHoofer.(Hehadoncebeenaprofessionaldancer,hencehissobriquet.)

Peterignoredthequestion.IfgentlemenofHoofer'santecedentsdidnotknowthat therewas an interchange of confidences between theLondon andNewYorkpolicedepartments,theyweresingularlyunimaginative.

It was on the Saturday of that week that Peter struck Collingwood and itsamenities.

Collingwood was not a garden city by predestined plan. It was officially asuburb of London, and had begun as a sprawling village of picturesque, ifinsanitary,cottages,whichclusteredaboutachurchandtheBunchofGrapesinn.Itdevelopedinthelate'eightiesbythecreationofanumberofinterestinglittleestatesvaryingbetweeneightandthreeacres,andintheoddcornersoftheseholdingsgrewafewavenuesofartificiallydesignedhomes.

TherewasnothingvulgaraboutCollingwood;ithadneitherslumnorproblem.Its sidewalks were broad and cemented, its lime avenues were chaste andpretty.MostofitsshopsandstoreswereinOldCollingwood,throughwhichtheNorthRoadruns.Collingwoodproper,thearistocraticCollingwood,lyingat theendofa longavenue,remotefromthenoiseandthepetrolfumesandfatalitiesofthatgreathighway.

Peter became acquainted with Collingwood through one of those littleaccidents which throw people literally and figuratively together. He wascomingbackfromYork,drivingaveryhigh-powered,superchargedGermancar,anditnaturallyirritatedhimtobeheldupinoneofthosenarrowstretchesontheNorthRoad—whichwasafterwardswidened—byacarofmicroscopicdimensions which maintained itself, despite his honking and the harsh,imperativesummonsofhishorn,onthecrownof theroadandwouldbudgeneitherleftnornight.Then,atlast,hedetectedamovementtotheside,whichhetooktobeaninvitation,andshothiscarthroughthegap;thedriverofthe

small car, at the samemoment, decided to return to the crown of the road.Therewasaterrifyingcrash,thesplinteringofglass,andthesmallvehiclewasliftedbodily,anddepositedonagrassybank.

Peterputallhisbrakesonand,stoppingwithahideousjar,jumpedfromthecarandranbackwardtogivefirstaid.Thelittleroadbugwasbeyondthat.Itlayoverdrunkenly.minusonewheeland itsoff side runningboard,But theoccupantwasunhurt,saveforascratchedface,whichbledalarmingly.

Hewasatall,thin,notespeciallypleasantyoungman.Obviouslyhehadhadthebenefitofauniversityeducationandthebreedingofagentleman,forallhis offensive comments were uttered in cold blood with a certain pedantrywhichwasveryannoying.

"My dear chap," said Peter testily, "if you hadn't pulled out its I waspassing...."

The young man would have cheerfully bled to death rather than forgo theopportunityofexplainingthestrengthofhislegalposition,butPetercuthimshort. He introduced himself as a police officer, gave first aid, which wasreluctantlyaccepted,and,havingsecuredtheassistanceofapassingscouttotake the remnants of the car to the nearest garage, he forcibly pushed hisvictimintohisownmachine,bulliedhisaddressfromhimandcametoaneatlittlehouseinCollingwood.

It stood in aquarterof an acreofground.Therewas a small squareof tidylawninfront,andoutwardlyatanyrate,itwasoneofthoseprosperouslittlehomesthataretobefoundbythehundredsofthousandsthroughoutthelengthandbreadthofEngland.

Herangthebellandalmost immediatelythedoorwasopenedbyagirlwhoworea largebluewrapper.Shewasby far the loveliestyoungwomanPeterhadseenformanyaday,eveninthatunbecoming.costume.

ShestaredfromthebandagedmantoPeterandherfacewentpale.

"It'snothingserious,saidPeter.

"Nothing serious!" The icy venom in the young man's voice was almoststartling. 'You'll learnwhether this is serious or not. I've never seen amorebrutaldisregardoftherightsoftheroad—"

Shetookhisarmandledhimintothehouse.Peterwasfollowing,butthemanturned.

"Idon'twantyouinhere—youkeepout.Takehisnameandaddress,Lydia:

I'mtooilltobotherwithit."

Hejerkedhisarmimpatientlyfromthewoman,andPeterheardhisfeetsoundhollowlyonuncarpetedstairsashemadehiswaytothebackofthehouse.

Shestoodinthehalf-openeddoorway,apictureofdiscomfort.

"I'mawfullysorry.Ismyhusband'scarverybadlysmashed?"

ShedidnotaskhimwhosefaultitwasthattheaccidenthadoccurredandinsomewayPeterdivinedthatsheknewwhowasinthewrong.Itstruckhimasremarkableat thatmoment that shedidnotaskhim into thehouse.Shehadsomethingtohide:shestoodonthedoorstep,thedoorsoclosedthathecouldnotseeinsidethepassage.

"I'mafraiditisbadlydamaged,butyouarecoveredbyinsurance?"

Sheshookherhead.

"Myhusbandnever insures.He—he is ratherpeculiarabout things like that.Willyougivemeyournameandaddress,please?"

Hetookoutanotebook.wroteitdownandtoreouttheleaf.Hewashandingittoherwhenaquerulousvoicecamefromthehouse.

"What's the delay? Are you adding another trophy to your collection? Youdon'timagineI'mgoingtowaitherealltheafternoon?Iwantsometea."

She almost snatched the page fromhis hand, and before he knewwhat hadhappenedthedoorwascloseduponhim.

Hewalkedbacktohiscar,interestedbutnotgreatlypuzzled.Hisexperienceasapoliceofficerhadtaughthimthatitwasimpossibletotakethelidoffanyhousewithoutdiscoveringuglylittleelementsofdiscord.

Ashegotintothedriver'sscathewasawarethattherewasanaudiencetothescene.Amanwasstandingbyanoakengateontheothersideoftheroad.Ashe turned the car and came opposite, the man signalled him and he cameacross to the sidewalk. He was a short, florid man with a wisp of yellowmoustache.

"Has that bird been smashed up?" he asked. "That was always coming tohim!"

Peter stared at his interrogator and brought themachine to a standstill: butapparentlythemandidnotobservehissurprise.

"Tooproudatthirty—that'swhat'sthematterwithhim.Theyhadthesheriffintheirhouselastweek—tookeverystickoffurniture.Theycouldn'ttakethecarbecause it doesn't belong to him. That girl's worth forty thousand of Mr.WalterL.Glynne.All thathedoes is runaroundwithanecktie showinghewent to a swell school. He's the biggest sucker I'vemet in years—falls foranybodywhocantellhimatale.Say,ifthatguywasrichyouwouldn'tbeabletogetintothisstreetforconmen.Ishehurt?"

"Notbadly."saidPeter.

"I'm sorry." said the little man. He looked towards the house that hid hisunpopularneighbourandsmackedhisthicklips."She'sapeach,eh?Onenicelittlegirl."

"Metafriendofyoursrecently,"saidPeter,interruptingtherhapsody."HooferGenelli."

Themanstaredathim.

"Youdon'tsay!"hesaidslowly."IsoldHooferintown?"Andthen,quickly:"Hooferwho?Idon'tknowanyHoofers,mister."

"I'mmerely tellingyouthat Imethimin town,"saidPeter."Howlonghaveyou been living here. Stillman?" The man was looking at him throughnarrowed lids. "Nearly a year, I guess," hedrawled. "Soyou're at detective,eh?You'vegotnothingonme.I'maBritishcitizen,borninToronto."

Peterchangedthesubject.

"WhatdoesGlynnedoforaliving?"

"Nothing," said the other, obviously relieved that the conversation wasswitchedtoamorepleasanttopic."Hejustgoesaroundinamechanicalpush-cart;borroweditfromafriendwhodidn'tknowanybetter."

Hethoughtamoment.Then:

"Comeinside,mister?"

Peter got down and went into the house with him. It was small butcomfortablyfurnished.

"Will you have a drink?.... Tea, then?"He rang the bell. "It's awonder youfellowshavegotanynervesleft,I'mgettingthehabitmyself."

Aneatmaidinblackbroughtinateatray.

"Everseenwork like that?"Stillmanhandled thedelicate lace tea-cloth."I'llbetyouhaven't!Hand-worked.I'vegotthreeofthem.Andmats....!"

Peter Dunn was not to be led completely off the subject byMr. Stillman'senthusiasm for fine needlework, and for ten minutes he questioned,admonishedandadvised.

"Say,don'tyouworryaboutme."Lew'ssmilewasblandandconfident.

"I'mnotworryingsomuchthatitwillkeepmeawakeatnight,"saidPeter.

BeforehelefttheygotbacktothesubjectofMr.WalterGlynne,andPeterhadonepieceofinformationwhichexplainedthecrypticremarkwhichhadbeenbarkedatthegirlfromtheheadofthestairs.

"Jealous? I should say hewas! Iwouldn't have thatman's disposition for amilliondollars.Shenevergoesoutofthehouseexceptwhenhe'swithher.Hethinksshe'srunningaftereverymanshemeets.That'sthekindofboyheis.Ifheonlyknew—"

Hestoppedandchuckled,andthen.seeingPeter'scoldeyeuponhim,hastilydisclaimedallthatwassinisterinhisinnuendo.

"That's no lightbaby,don'tworry!Straight as a line.Butwhat I say is,Mr.Dunn,what's theuseofstickingclose toagrouch like that,whenyoucouldhaveall themoneyintheworldyouwant,eh?Doyouknowhowtheylive?They'vegottwolittlebedstheyboughtfromajunkdealer,acoupleofchairsandatable!Shewashesthecurtainsherself—sitsupallnightfromsheerprideso thatnoneof theneighbourssee thecurtainsaredown.Thehouse ishers;he'dhavesoldthat,onlythetrusteeswouldn'tallowit."

Peter carriedaway fromCollingwoodanunhappymemoryof thepoor littlegirl in the blue wrapper. He had a vague idea of sending her moneyanonymously,butrealised.ifallLewStillmanhadsaidwastrue,thatitwouldbringherlittlebenefit.

HemadeafewinquiriesandlearnedthatStillmanhadnotexaggeratedwhenhehaddescribedthehusbandasawastrel.Hedidnotdrink,hadnoapparentvices,exceptacolossalvanitywhichwasexpressed inaprofoundcontemptforthecommercialclasses.Hehadwrittenpoetry.andhadsoughtashortwaytowealth,havingashisguideanoutsidebroker,whohadstrippedhimofhisownmeagrefortuneandasmuchofhiswife'spropertyaswasrealisable.

ItwassurprisinghowmanypeopleknewofWalterListerGlynne, though itdidnotamazePeter,whohaddiscoveredbeforethatmostpeople'slivesareanopenbookforthosewhotroubletoturnthepages.

Therecame tohima letter fromMr.Glynne's solicitorsand the threatofanactionatlaw—thiswasoneoftheyoungman'smostexpensivehobbies—andhehadturnedthematterovertohislawyerwhenCollingwoodagainobtrudedintohisdailylife.

Therewere three little communities, of which Collingwoodwas the centre:Helstonewasone,DigburyParkwasanother andCornfordHeightswas thethird:Cornfordvillage,beingsituateat least fifty feethigher thananyof itsneighbours,wasentitledtothe"Heights".DigburyParkandCollingwoodlayjust inside theMetropolitan Police area, and as such came within ScotlandYard'ssphereofinfluence.ThesuperintendentsentforPeteronemonth.,

"DoyouknowCollingwood?"heasked.

"DoIknowit!"saidPeterscornfully."There'salawyertherewhowritesmetwice a week. and I think I mentioned that our friend Lew Stillman is inresidenceinthatarea."

"Youknowhisrecord—isheaburglar?"askedthesuperintendent.

Petershookhishead.

"No,he'severythingbut,"hesaid.

The superintendent took up a little pad of papers and handed them to hissubordinate.

"You might go down and make a few inquiries," he said. "In the past sixmonths there has been a series of peculiar burglaries committed in thisneighbourhood,andtheHertfordshirepolicehaveaskedustoinvestigate.It'sevidentthatthesamegentlemanisoperatingineverycase."Peterturnedoverthesheets.

"Whathavetheytaken?"

"Nothing,"wastheunexpectedreply."That'stheoddthing.Ineverycasetheyhaveleftsilverandvaluableswhichtheycouldn'tverywellhavemissed,andineverycasethewritingdeskwasbrokenopenandpaperssearched.Usuallythefellowwho'sbeendoingthejobhaswaiteduntilthehouseholderhasbeenaway, and the suggestion is that he knows their habits and is more or lessacquaintedwiththeirplans,Innocasehasmoneybeenstolen—thatIwanttoimpressuponyou."

Peter took the documents to his office and read very carefully the policereports.Ineveryaffairentrancehadbeenmadethroughasidedoorandonlytworoomsinthehousehadbeensearched—thestudyandthebedroom.Once

apocket-bookhadbeentaken,butnootherproperty.

Hebeganhisinvestigationsthatafternoon,calledatahouseinDigburyParkand interviewed the occupant, a well-to-do bachelor stockbroker who livedwithhissister.Hewasevidentlyamanofcomfortablemeans.Thehousewaslarge and the grounds fairly extensive. He could give no information thatthrewanylight,onthemysteriousvisitor.

"My sisterwas away at the seasidewhen it happened. and Iwas staying intownatmyclub.Thehousewasempty—mysisterhadthemaidwithher,andthecookwasonherholiday.Thequeer thing is that theydidn't stealaveryvaluable silver statuette which stands on my writing table; and, what isstrangerstill,theyleftthemoneywhichtheyfoundinoneofthedrawerstheyforced."

The burglary had happened threemonths before, and the brokerwas rathersurprised that the police were resuming their investigations, and shouldconsiderthecaseimportantenoughtosendamanfromtheYard.

Peterlookedoverthehouse.Hesawnothingtillhecametothedining-room.

"Whatisthis?"

Hepointed toanoblongstripof lace that layon thepolished surfaceof thetable.Forasecondthestockbrokerlookedalittleuncomfortable.

"That?Well,that'sjustasortof....Idon'tknowwhatyoucallthem,"hesaidawkwardly.

Peterpickeduptheedgeoftheflimsythingandsawhereabeautifullyworkedcoatofarms.HehadseenthesamedesignontheteaclothinLewStillman'sparlour.Hisnextcallwasonamiddle-agedwidowerwhohadatinyhouseontheedgeofCollingwood.andhereagainnoexplanationwasforthcomingfortheburglary,whichhadalmostbeenforgottenbytheowner.

"No, nothing, was taken—except my bank pass-book. The poor devil musthavethoughthe'dgotholdofaprize.Asamatteroffact,thepass-bookwasreturned tomy hank three or four days later. As you know,when the banksendsoutabookitusuallyenclosesaprintedenvelopeforitsreturn;thiswasusedandpostedinLondon."

AgainPetermadean inspectionof thehouse,andagainmadean interestingdiscovery.

It was eight o'clock that night when he came back to Collingwood andknocked at the door of "Gleneagles," bywhichmagnificent nameMr. Lew

Stillman's modest villa had been christened by its builder. He knocked andrang,butnoanswercame.Aservantofthenexthouse,whowasgossipingintheduskwithayoungman,volunteeredafewfacts.

"Wedon'toftensechim.Heusuallycomesinbythebackway.There'salittlelaneatthebackofthehouse,"shesaid.

"Arehisservantsout'?"

Here she was a mine of information. They did not sleep in the house,Mr.Stillmanpreferringcompleteprivacybetweensunsetanddawn.

Peterwentback to thehouseand rangagain; therewasnoanswer.Hewentroundtothebackofthehouseandfoundthebackgatelocked.

Itwasgrosslyimproperofhim,sincehisaffairswereinthehandsoflawyers,to call upon onewithwhom hewas engaged in litigation.Nevertheless, hecrossedtothepatheticlittlehousewhichheldthemeansecretsoftheGlynnes.

Hepressed thebell,butapparently itwasoutoforder,and thesoundofhisknockechoedhollowly.Heheardthemovementoflightfootstepsinthehallandthedoorwasopenedafewinches.

The house was in darkness, though from somewhere above came a tinyglimmeroflight.

"Whoisthat?"

ItwasLydiaGlynne'svoice.Thenapparentlysherecognisedhim.

"IsitMr.Dunn—myhusbandisnotin.Pleasedon'tstay!"

Therewasanoteofagitationinhervoice.

"Whenwillhebeback?"

"Idon'tknow.Youwon'tthinkIamveryrudeifIturnyouaway.willyou?....Onlymyhusbanddoesn'tlikemetoreceivevisitors."

Shewasonthepointofclosingthedoorwhenhestoppedher.

"What'sthetrouble,Mrs.Glynne?PerhapsIcanhelpyou."

Heheardaquicksigh.

"No,I'mafraidyoucan't—I'dratheryoudidn'twait."

Shewasalmostincoherentinheranxietyforhisdeparture,andhecoulddono

morethanbidheragoodnightwhichwascutinhalfbytheclosingofthedoor.

HeintendedseeingGlynnethatnight,whateverhappened,butitwasvitalthatheshouldseehiminthepresenceofhiswife.

Rainwasfallingwhenheturnedintothenarrowlanethatranalongthebackofthehouses.Ashedidsohethoughthesawafiguredisappearingintothedarkness ahead of him, Itmight have been an occupant of one of the otherhouses:apparentlythebacklanewasfrequentlyused

He walked along to the end and found himself on the main road ofCollingwood. There were a few cars in sight: the red tail light of one wasdisappearinginthedirectionofLondonashelooked.For a quarter of an hour he waited, but there was no sign of Glynne, andturning,hewalkedbackalong thedark lane.Hewas twentyyards from theentrance of Stillman's house when he heard the scrambling of feet againstwood:adarkfigureappearedoverthetopofthefence,droppedintothelaneand ran.He came from Stillman's house, and Peter sprinted in pursuit. Themanranfastandhecouldnotgainonhim.Dartingupaverynarrowpassagebetweenthetwohouses,heflewacrosstheroadandforasecondwaslostinthedarkness.ThedoorofMr.Glynne'shouseslammedashereachedtheoutergate.Heknocked,butnoanswercame.Heknockedagainmoreloudly."Whoisthere?"Itwasthegirl'svoice,huskywithfear,"Openthedoor,Mrs.Glynne.ItisSergeantDunn."Therewasasilence."Ican'topenthedoor:Iamgoingtobed.""Openthedoor.IknowyourhusbandcomeinandIwanthim."Theconversationcouldbecarriedonina lowvoice,for thedoorwasglass-panelled.Heheardthekeysnap,and,pushingpasther,closedthedoorbehindhim."Have you a light?" he asked the shadowy figure. "No." Her voice wasquivering."Theelectriclightiscutoff—myhusbandisn'twell.I'mafraidhe'sfainted...."AndthenPeterheardhersob."Oh....I'mgladyou'vecome....thatsomebody'scome!"Hetookanelectrictorchfromhispocketandflasheditalongthebareboardsofthepassage."Whereishe?"Sheledtheway,pushedopenadoorthatledtothebackroomandhewentin.WalterListerGlynnelay,aninertheap,ontheground.Stooping,Peterturnedhim over and gasped. Therewas blood on theman's hands and on his facewherethehandshadtouched.Thesleevesofhiscoatwereredlywet.Heheardascreambehindhim."Oh,God!Whathashedone?"

"Bringalamp—you'vegotoneupstairs.Orwaithere—I'llgetit."Heranupstairsandbroughtdownasmallparaffinlampandputitonthetableoftheunfurnisheddining-room.Glynnehadrecovered;bewassitting,hisfaceburied in his hands, shivering and whimpering. Peter shook him by theshoulder."Whowasit—Stillman?""Dead,"shiveredGlynnehysterically."Terrible....!Hewassittingathisdesk.Itouchedhim,andwhenIputthelightonitwashorrible!....Ididn'tdoit....IswearIdidn'tdoit!Iwenttofindthelettersshe'sbeenwritingtothesemen.Iknowshe'sbeenwriting.tothemandvisitingthem.You—you!"hescreamed,pointingtothewhite-facedgirl."I'vebeenlookingforthem—""We know all about what you've been looking for," snarled Peter. "You'vebeenlookingforthelovelettersthatyourwifeneverwrote,youpoorworm!"Heturnedtothegirl."Washhim—hewantsit,"hesaid,andflewoutofthehouse.He foundapoliceman, and together theywent to thebackof thehouseandmountedthefence.Whenheswitchedonthelight inLewStillman'sdining-roomhesawsomethingwhichwasnotnicetolookupon.Stillmanhadbeenshotthroughtheheadatclosequarters.Hishandwasstillgrippingthegunhehaddrawnbuthadnotimetouse.TheyarrestedHooferatWaterlooStationthatnight.whenhewasonthepointof catching the boat train for Southampton. and he accepted his fatephilosophically."Lewgothis."hesaid."Hesentthreeofourgangtothechairwhenhe turnedState'sevidence. the rat!Thenhebolted forEngland.We'vebeenwaitingforhim—mybrotherwasonewhowenttothedeathhouse.IfIhadn't caughthim inLondononeofourboyswouldhavepickedhimup inParis."AdayortolaterPeterhadaninterviewwithhischief."Thecuriousthingwas,IwasexpectingGlynne, toburgleStillman'shouse thatnight.Themanwasinsanelyjealous,knewthathiswifewaswritingtovariousfriendsofhers,andwascallingonthemafterdark.Why?Shewaskeepinghiminfoodbyherlacework—soldd'oyleysand trayclothsandmadeher friendswhobought themsweartheywouldn'ttell.WalterListerGlynnewouldhavediedofshameifhehad known Naturally, all this selling entailed a lot of correspondence andcanvassing. and this poor simpleton, being jealous as blazes, thought thatscattered round the country were a whole lot of compromising letters. Heburgledonehouse after another, trying to find evidenceof her flightiness—why, the Lord knows! Anyway, she's left him and she is starting a littlebusinessofherownintheWestEnd.Somemugislendingherfivehundredpoundsforstock."

Thesuperintendentthoughtheknewwhothatmugwas.

CHAPTERVII

ANY country is a pretty small place for a man who wishes to avoidrecognition.Therewereoncetwoyoungmenwhoworkedtogetherasstudent-apprentices in a large drug store in theMidlands. In those days they werecalled"chemistshops",andtheproprietorusuallylivedupstairsandkepthisownbooks.

Thetwoyoungmenmighthaveservedasmodelsforstorybookcharactersofa more modern kind, for one was idle and honest, and the other wasindustrious and enterprising. The idle and honest apprentice married thedaughter of his bankruptmaster (she subsequently ran away from him) andeventually he became an habitual drunkard; the industrious apprentice wasdischargedataminute'snoticeandleft,takingwithhimaconsiderablesumofmoneyandanoddassortmentofpharmaceuticknowledge.

Onedaythedrunkard,whohadmigratedtoLondon,sawamanstepfromahandsomelimousine,andaccostedhimbyhisname.

"Go to the devil!" said his wealthy fellow apprentice. Enraged by thisreception thedown-and-out struck at hisold friend; apoliceman intervened,andavulgarbrawlmighthaveendedinapolicecourtconviction,butforthefact that the prosecutor did not arrive to charge his assailant. Themanwasreleased;amysterioussomebodysenthimanenvelopecontainingfiftypoundsin notes, and there would have been the end of the matter, but for theaggrieved prisoner, under the influence of further libations, attending atScotlandYardanddemandingthatthenameandaddressofhisenemyshouldbe given to him. Nor would he leave until he had made a most libellousstatement concerning his former companion, and this statement he insisteduponreducingtowriting.

Such things happen at ScotlandYard.Horrific tales arrive daily, are probedwith infinitepainsandpatienceandusuallydispersed.Thescopefor inquiryherewassmall;thedocumentwasfiledawayinthe"crazydrawer",andwasforgotten.ItconcernedonePaulSibbettwhohadaweaknessforexperiment.

Peter Dunn, hunting for a similar document one day, came upon it andwonderedwhatwasAmotoxylene(hegatheredfromtheill-writtenpaperthatthiswastheword),buthemadenostepstodiscoveritsproperties.Asforthestory of the wanton experiments on dogs, that was possible, but not worthfurtherinquiry.

OldSuperintendentBrissenused tosay thatalleventswere triplets: that ifared-hairedmanwasarrestedforburglingafishshop,twootherred-hairedmenwouldalsobearrestedforburglingfishshops.

Hewasmainlyright,thoughPeterDunnhadnevermetcoincidenceeyetoeyeuntilheundertooktheBletsallinquiry.

Firstofallwasthestrangeaffairofthedrunkenman.Itwasoddinitselfthatthis should have happened within twenty-four hours of his becomingacquaintedwiththestoryofthetwoapprentices.

Goingbacktohishousethatnight,hefoundamanhangingontotherailings.Hewas in evening dress, apparently a gentleman, so far as aman can be agentlemanwhopermitshimselftheweaknessofinebriation.Peterwouldhavepassed him by, not because hewas pharisaical, but because drunken peopleboredhimbutthehelplessyoungmanspoke:

"Isay....takemyhandsaway,willyou?"

Hisvoicewasthickandtremulous.

Peterhalted.

"What'sthematterwithyourhands?"hedemanded.

"Can'tletgo."

The detective stepped to his side and tried to loosen the hands: they weregrippedconvulsively;ittookallhisstrengthtoreleasethem.

Butforhisarm,thevictimwouldhavefallen.Itwasashesupportedthelimpfigure that he realised that certain symptoms of drunkenness were entirelyabsent.Hishousewasnearandhehalfdraggedandhalfcarriedthemanintohisstudyanddroppedhimontoasettee.Itwashalfanhourbeforethewiltedfiguregotupofhisownvolition.Hewasdeadlypale,sweatbeadsstoodonhisforeheadandcheeks,andhiseyeswerestrangelydilateduntiltheywereallpupils.

"Terribly sorry—I don't know what happened. Can't remember a darnedthing!"

Peterhadgivenhimbrandy,straight,andthespirithadbeenefficacious.

"No,I'mnottight....awfullygoodofyoutodothisforme.I'venotbeenverywellallday—headache,tookanaspirin...."

His name was Martin. Peter gathered that he had been in the army. He

declined the invitation tobe seenhomeandwaswell enough towalk to thecabwhichPetercalled.

Thesecondlegofthecoincidenceappearedaweeklater.

The life of a detectivewould be one grand, sweet song ifmysterious bankrobberies and picturesque murders made up the round of his daily life. Inrealityhisworkisdullandwearisome.HespendshisdaysandnightsaskingBill Jones what has happened to his friend Harry Smith, and listeningincredulously whilst Bill explains that the last time he saw Harry was twoyearsagocomeEaster.

Orelseheisploddingontheclueofalaundrymarkdiscoveredontheshirtofadrownedman,orheisinvestigatingthecircumstancesunderwhichatonofold lead piping disappears from a lock-up store under a railway arch andmiraculouslyreappearsinthebackyardofamarinestoredealer.

Sometimes. when work was very heavy and the leave season was in fullswing,PeterDunntookonoddlittlejobs.Hewasabachelor,hadfewinterestsoutside his career, and was considerably disturbed when the death of hisgrandfatherbrought,himthebaronetcy,thehouseinBerkeleySquareandthewherewithalforitsupkeep.Heneverdespisedoddjobs:theysometimeshadcuriousandfascinatingramifications.

Hereportedforduty—hewasrelievingtwomenwhowereontheirholidays—andfoundthreejobsawaitinghim.Thefirstwasanidentification,whichwassoondisposedof,sincetheprisonerwasatCannonRow;thesecondamatterof a driving licence which had been loaned by its confiding owner to agentleman whose licence had been suspended for a year for driving to thecommon danger, and the third was a petty cash affair in the office of Mr.GreeleyBletsall.

TherewasamanatScotlandYardwhokneweverybody.Hewasawalkingreference book, though his information could hardly have been publishedwithoutinvolvinghimininnumerablesuitsforlibel.

"Who isBletsall?He's supposed to beworth amillion, but he's been goingbadlyontheStockExchangelately—he'sthebiggestmugpuntertheCityhasmetforyears.Owesmoneyleftandright—"

"Ishebroke?"

Thelittleinspectorwhowasthesourceofinformationshookhisuntidyhead.Hewasoneofthedwindlingarmyofsnuff-takers,ashissoiledtunicproved.

"No: thosekindof fellowsaren'tbrokeasweunderstandbeingbroke—they

don'thavetocountuptheshillingsonSaturdays.Heowesahundredthousandhere and a hundred thousand there—that's high finance! He's had a lot oftroubleinturningasideacoupleofpetitions."

Mr.GreeleyBletsalloccupiedasuite inSt. James'sStreetwherehedirectedtheaffairsofacolonialtradingcompany.TheGreeleyTradingCompanywasnotafamiliarnametotheaverageLondonerwhopasseditsofficedaily,butithad amagical sound tomillions of uncultured nativeswho exchanged theirrubberforManchestergoodsandBirminghambrassware.

TherewasnotamanorwomanwholivedontheCoastorinthedarkinterioroftheContinent,whodidnotknowGreeleys,

Miss Henrietta Greeley had married Mr. Bletsall, who had been a youngmarried clerk in the concern. On the death of his wife, he hadmarried theunprepossessingdaughter of oldTomGreeley andhad changedhis name toGreeleyBletsall.When hiswife had died on a sea voyage, he inherited thecontrolofacompanywhichwas reputed tohavea turnoverofconsiderablymorethanamillionandahalfayear.HehadbeeninParliament,wasontwoinsuranceboards,belongedtocertainexclusiveclubs,andwasfamousforhislargegiftstocharitableinstitutions.

Charitableashewas,hecouldnotextendhischaritytothemiscreantwhohadopenedhisdeskdrawerandtakentherefromsevenone-poundnotes.

"Itisnotthefirsttimethishashappened,"hetoldPeter."Ihavemissedmoneybefore.Iusuallykeepanumberofnotesinthisdrawer,andIinvariablykeepacheck on them by putting in a slip of paper representing the amount I takeout,"

Itwasalargeandimposingdeskinalargeandimposingroom,panelledwithwalnutandnoblyfurnished.Mr.GreeleyBletsallwashimselfonthelargeside—abig,sandy-hairedman.withalong,narrowfaceandpaleblueeyeswhichatthemomentweregleamingwrathfullyundertheshaggyeyebrows.

Hispolishedtablewasamodelofneatness,innocentoflitter,andhehimselfwasasspotlessashissurroundings,Therewasnospeckofcigaretteashonhisimmaculateblackcoattotestifytohishumanweakness.

He sat back in his padded chair, the finger tips of one hand (exquisitelymanicured, Peter noticed) touching the finger tips of the other. It was aprayerfulgesturetobefoundonthetombsofoldcrusaders,butMr.GreeleyBletsallwasnotpraying.

''TherearethreepeopleIsuspect...theporter,"—hetickedthemoffdaintily

—"the office boy, and the young lady who assists my secretary. Just onemoment."

He pressed an ivory bellpush and a girl came in. She was extraordinarilypretty,butjustalittletoopale,Peterthought.Shehadtheculturedvoiceofalady, but he detected in her some curious, unexpected nervousness—unexpectedbecausehecouldnotimaginethattheconfidentialsecretaryofsoimportantamancouldbeintheslightestdegreeuncomfortableinthepresenceofanofficerofScotlandYard.

"MissLanewill tell you all she knows."Mr.Bletsallwas impressive and alittlepompous.

"IamafraidIdon'tknowverymuch."Shesmiledfaintly."Icameinyesterdaymorningand found thedrawerunlocked.Somebodyhadusedakey toopenthe drawer, butwas unable to pull the key out after the drawerwas open. Ididn'tmissthemoney,naturally,becauseIdidn'tknowhowmuchwasthere."

"Youhavethekey,"saidMr.Bletsall.

She went out to find it. It had been extracted with great difficulty by alocksmith.

"IsupposeyouhavenodoubtaboutMissLane?."saidPeter.

It was a very commonplace question, and one he would havemade in anycircumstances,foritwashisexperiencethatevenquitebeautifulyoungladiescanpilfertheiremployers'desks.

TheeffectofthisinnocentinquiryuponMr.Bletsallwasamazing.Hissallowfaceflushedred,hesatboltuprightinhischairandthepaleblue-eyesblazedwrathfully,

"How dare you, sir!" His voice trembled. "Accuse my, secretary! It is amonstroussuggestion.MissLaneisincapable—"

"Imerelyasked."Peterhastenedtoappeasetheangryman.

"Miss Lane is a lady of the highest possible character, though in certainrespectsshemaybealittlewayward,butthatisaprivilegeofyouth."

Atthismomenttheladyunderdiscussionreturnedandputalittlekeyonthedesk.Peterwasnotreallyinterested: itwasaverycommonexperienceforadeskdrawertobeopenedbyakeywhichwasneverintendedtoopenitandforthatkeyto''stick".Hepickeditupandexamineditperfunctorily.thenputitdownagain."Youwillnotbeabletotracethethiefbythat,"hesaid."Itisa

veryordinarytypeofkey.Theremustbedozensofthemineverycityoffice.IfyouwillgivemearoomIwillquestionthepeopleyoususpect."

"Willitbenecessaryformetochargethem?"askedMr.Bletsall."IamaverybusymanandIhaveimportantdutieswhichtakeupallmytime."

"Ihaven'tfoundthethiefyet,sir."smiledPetergood-humouredly."IfIdo.youwill certainly have to charge him, or you can arrange for your secretary toappear—"

"Miss Lanewill not appear in any police court!" saidMr.Bletsall loudly. Iwouldsoonergomyselfahundredtimesthansubmitthatladytotheignominyof—er...."

"Iknowwhatyoumean."saidPeter.

Hewas secretlyamused,anda littlepuzzled.Thecolourwhichcame to thegirl'spale facewascertainlynotcausedbypleasureat thisexhibitionofheremployer'ssolicitude.Itspokeofembarrassment,possiblyannoyance.

"I will show you into the waiting room," she said, and turned and walkedquicklyintotheouteroffice.

Peterfollowed.

Sheopened thedoorof thewaitingroomandcame inafterhim,closing thedoorbehindher.

"Mr.Dunn,"shesaid,alittlebreathlessly,"Iamterriblyafraiditistheporter.Hehasasickwifeandhehashadalotoftroublewithmoney-lenders.Ihavenot dared tell Mr. Bletsall for fear he would discharge him or somethingworse."

"Isthemanhere?"

Sheshookherhead.

"He is away today—Mr. Bletsall doesn't even know that. I don't think youcould prove it, I am quite willing to find the money myself to prevent aprosecution."

Peterpursedhislipsthoughtfully.

"Idon'tknowexactlywhatIcandointhematter.You'dbetterfixitwithMr.Bletsall. I am sure hewould do the reasonable thing if you asked him," hesaid.

Thiswasnonovelsituation: itwasonewithwhich thepoliceare frequentlyconfronted.Theyarealwaysreluctanttobringafirstoffenderinthecourt.andwillevencondonepettylarcenytoavoidtheruinofaman'scareer.

Shelookedathimthoughtfully.

"No,"shesaid.withitlittlecatchinherbreath.."Idon'twanttobeunderany—I don't wish to askMr. Bletsall—Couldn't you speak for him? I'dmuchratheryoudid."

Therewasnomysteryhereeither.Evidentlythereweremanyreasonswhyshedidnotwishtobeunderanobligationtoheremployer—Peterguessedone.

"Iwillseetheporter,"hesaid."ifyougivemehisaddress.Hasheconfessedtoyouthathehasstolenthemoney?"

Shehesitated.

"No."shesaidatlast,buthedidn'tbelieveher.

"I'veaskedsomebodytoseeJansenthismorning,"shesaid."Afriendofmine—whichwasselfishofmeforhehasbeenterriblyill.I'mafraidthereislittlehecando."

Jansen,theporter,livedinaworkman'sflatnearNottingHill,atired,middle-agedman,whoalmostfaintedwhenPeterrevealedhisidentity.

"Comein,sir."hefalteredat last."MissLane'syounggentlemanishere.Hecametoseeifhecouldfixthingsupforme.Mywifehasjustbeentakentohospital.ThankGodshedoesn'tknowanythingaboutthisbusiness!"

Herewas a pitiful little tragedy the like ofwhich Peter had seen again andagain:amanwithablamelessrecordwhohadsuccumbedtotemptationandstolen a few pounds. Such as he come in endless procession to the policecourts of the land, some to pass under probation, some to prison and asubsequentcriminalcareer.

Hefollowedhim to thepoorly furnished littleparlour.Theyoungman.whowasstandingbythewindowandlookingintothestreet,turnedastheycamein.Hewasyoung,rathergood-looking,thetypewhichpublicschoolsturnoutbythethousand.

Forasecondhedidnotknowthevisitor,thoughhecouldguessthatthiswasMissLane'syounggentleman.Andthen,suddenly,herecognisedhim.

"Hello!Better?"

Mr.Martinwasmomentarilypuzzled.

"GoodLord!Youarethefellowwhowassodecenttometheothernight."

Theyshookhands.

"Yes,I'mwellenough.thoughIfeltprettybadforafewdays.You'vecometoseeJansen?"

Thedetectiveexplainedhisbusinessinafewwords,andthetremblingportersankintoachair,incapableofspeech."Yes,Itookthemoney.sir;IthoughtIwouldbeabletoput itback.Itwasnotsevenpounds—itwasthree,andthelasttimeitwasone.Ihavebeentwentyyearsintheoffice,sir.andIwaswitholdMr.Greeleywhenhedied.Iwasthelastpersontoseehimalive—tookinan aspirin, and I'd hardly got out of the office before he was dead. Hearttrouble,likehispoordaughtersufferedfrom."

Peterlookedathimlongandthoughtfully.

"Oh.indeed.Now,tellmeaboutthistheftofyours."

"Mr. Bletsall sent you sir? He was Rood to me in those days: he sent meabroad toAfrica to collectMr.Greeley's paperswhen be died and gavemefiftypounds.IoughttoheashamedofwhatI'vedone...."

Hehidhisheadinhisarmsandbegantosob.

"ItwasnottheonlythingItook.Imightaswellmakeacleanbreastofit.Iwasnotsurewhichdrawerthemoneywasin,soIopenedthebottomonefirst,tookoutacaseandputitinmypacket.Hesometimeskeepshismoneyinthepocketcase.IlockedthedrawerandwasgoingawaywhenIfoundIhadmadeamistakeandtriedtheseconddrawer;that'swherethekeystuck."

"Whereisthepocketease?"askedPeter.

Without a word the man went out of the room and come back with a flatleathercase.Peteropeneditandexamineditscontentsbeforeheslippeditinhispocket.ThenJansenbrokedownagain,andPeterbeckonedtheyoungmanoutoftheroom.

"I am afraid there is notmuch to be done," he said. "I shall have to take astatementfromhimandBletsallmustprosecute."

"It's a damnable shame," said theyoungman, hotly. "Bletsall hasunderpaidhimforyears."

"YouknowMr.Bletsall?"

"Yes,slightly.IknowMissLanebetter."

"Youareheryounggentleman,infact,"saidPeterwithatwinkleinhiseye.

Theyoungmansmiledruefully.

"Yes.Weareengaged.SheaskedmetocallonthischapthismorningandseeifIcoulddoanythingforhim.ifBletsallsetshismindonprosecuting,hewillprosecute.Heisavindictivebeast,though,perhaps,Ioughtnottosaythat;heofferedmeaverygoodjobtotakechargeofoneofhisstationsinAfrica."

TherewassomethinginhisvoicewhichmadePeterlookathimkeenly.

"Youhaveturneditdown,haven'tyou?"

"Yes,Ihaveturneditdown?"saidtheother.Hehesitated."Icannotaffordto,but....well,I'dratherbeinLondonforallsortsofreasons."

Peter interviewed the broken man again. Obviously he was incapable ofmakinganystatementatthemoment,andhedecidedtogobacktoSt.James'sStreet.

Herehehadasurprise:Mr.Bletsall'sattitudewasentirelychanged.

"Verystupidofme,inspector—",

"Sergeant.murmuredPeter.

"Sergeant, is it'?Well, the truth is that I told thisman to takeanymoneyhewantedoutofmydesk."

"He'sanoldservantofthefamily,isn'the?"askedPeter.

"Hehasbeenheresomeyears,"agreedMr.Bletsall,inhisstateliestmanner.

Peternodded.

"Sohesaid."

Hefastenedhisnotebookandputitintohispocket."Soweshallletthematterrest.shallwe,Mr.Bletsall?"

"Ifyouplease."

Heputhishandinhispocketratherostentatiously.

"Ifyouaregoing tooffermeareward, I'llsaveyouthe trouble,"saidPeter,smiling."Imustreportthemattertoheadquarters,butIdon'tsupposetheywilltakeanyfurtheraction."

Hehadnoticed,ashecame into theoffice, the littleglassboxwhichservedMissLaneasanoffice.Heknockedatthedoorandwentin.

Shewassittingatherdesk,butshewasnotworking.Sheturnedwithalookofalarmonherface,whichclearedasshesawthevisitor.

"WefixedJansen,"hesaid."Ithoughtyouwouldliketoknow."

Obviouslyitwasnonewstoher.

"YesIknow.DidyoumeetMr.Martin?"

HewasstillstandingatthedoorandfromherehecommandedaprivateviewoftheglasspanelleddoorwhichledtoBletsall'soffice.Hesawtheshadowofthemanagainsttheglasspanel.

"Yes."Then,loweringhisvoice:"Doyougoouttotea?"

Hewasamusedatthesuddendoubtwhichcameintohereyes,andgrinned.

"No,Iamnotbeinggallant,"hesaid,"butIamtryingtomakeadatewithyou.Doyouthinkyoucouldmeetmeat—"henamedafashionableteashopnearathand—"atfiveo'clock?"

She hesitated, and then he heard Bletsall's voice, addressing him. in thecorridor.

"Yes,"shesaid,andhecameouttomeetthebigman'ssuspiciousscrutiny.

"IthoughtIwouldtellMissLanethatthematterhadbeensettled."hesaid.

"Itwasnotnecessary,"snappedBletsall.

Onceoutside theoffice,Peterhaileda taxi-cabanda fewminutes laterwasinterviewinghis chief atScotlandYard. Itwas a long interviewbecause theheadsofdepartmentswerecalledin,therewerevisitstotherecordofficeandahastilysummonedanalystmaderapidexperimentsinhislaboratory.

Itwasaquarterofanhourafter theappointed timethatshecame.hurrying,intothevestibuleofthetearooms;shewasbreathlesslyapologetic.

"Itwasdifficulttogetaway,"shesaid."butfortunatelyMr.BletsallwascalledtotheCity."

He found a quiet corner of the room and ordered tea. "You know I am adetective?"

"Iknowallaboutyou."Inspiteofher troubleshecouldsmile."YouareSir

PeterDunn.Mr.Bletsalldoesn'tknow,butIwasreadingsomethingaboutyouinthenewspapersandIrecognisedyourphotograph"

"Ishallhavetoraisethesalaryofmypublicityagent."

Thenhewentonseriously:"YouknowIamadetective,andIamgoingtoaskyouafewquestionsformyownprivateinformation."Thenheaskedher:"Hasthismanbeenmakinglovetoyou?"

She changed colour and seemed inclined for a moment to resent his bluntmethods.

"Yes,Mr.Bletsallhasaskedmetomarryhim."

"YouareengagedtoMartin,aren'tyou?"

Shenodded.

"BletsallhasofferedhimapostatathousandayearinAfrica."

Hesawherlipscurl.

"AtMaleti!Itisbuiltonaswamp.Fouroftheagentshavediedthereinthreeyears!"

"Whenwastheoffermade?"

"About a week ago. Mr. Bletsall took Ivor out to dinner and put the offerbeforehim.Hedidn'ttellmethathewastakingIvor;itwasdoneverysecretly.FortunatelyItoldIvoraboutMaleti.Itisahorridpositionforme:hepaysmeaverybigsalary.Isimplycan'taffordtoleavebecausemyyoungsisterisatschool—"

Peterwasputtingsugarintoafreshcupofteawhenhesawherlookupwithan expression of alarm. Mr. Bletsall was standing not a few yards away.gloweringdownatthem.andhecameslowlyforward.

"Ithoughtyouwereattheoffice,MissLane,"hesaidcoldly.

Thegirlwasobviously terrifiedofhim.Sherosewithoutawordofapologyandslippedpasthimoutoftheshop.Forafewsecondshestood,staringatthedetective.

"Sitdown,Mr.Bletsall."

ToPeter'ssurprisethebigmancameslowlytothetable,drewupachairandsatdown.

"Thisishardlypartofyourduty,isit?Orisitpleasure'?"

"Purelypleasure,"saidPeter."IwasdiscussingthefutureofJansen."

"There is no need to discuss the future of Jansen—that is assured," saidBletsall.

Peterlookedathimforasecond,andthen:

"Whydidn'tyouprosecutethefellowwhostruckyouaboutthreemonthsagoinRegentStreet?"

Thecolourwentfromtheman'sface,thenslowlyfadedbackagain.

"BecauseIdidn'tchoose."hesaid.

Hisattitudewasfranklyantagonistic,buthemusthavehadthemostamazingcommandoverhisemotions,forsuddenlyhelaughed.

"Mr.Dunn."hesaid."youunderstandthatmypositionisratherapeculiarone.MoneyisverytightintheCity.Ihavebeenhavingheavylosses,andIcouldnotafford to figure inavulgarbrawl. If ithappened today Iwouldn'tmind,because I havemade a great deal ofmoney, and I could afford to snapmyfingersatmyenemies."Heloweredhisvoice.

"I suppose you realise that there is a financial combination in the City ofLondonwhichhasbeendoingitsbesttoruinmeforfiveyears?"

Hewasobviouslysincere.Rapidlyhenamedtheheadsofthreegreatfinancecorporations, familiar figures in the City, and men whose integrity was ahouseholdword."Don'tlet'sbeataboutthebush,Mr.Dunn.Iknowyoucameto inquire into the robbery, but the real reason for your inquiries was todiscovermyfinancialposition."Petershookhishead.

"Policeofficersdonot—"hebegan,buttheotherinterruptedhim.

"Ididnotexpectyoutoadmitit,"hesmiled."Well,youcantellyourfriendsthatbyWednesdaymorningtheiraccountswillbecleared,andIshallhaveamilliontomycreditat theBankofEngland—thatshouldsatisfythem.Luckhasalwaysbeenonmyside,"hewentongaily."Iamaninheritor.Ifmybigdealhadn'tcomeoff,somebodywouldhavediedandleftmeamillion."

"That'sveryinteresting,"saidPeter.Hedidnotremovehisgazefromthepaleblueeyes."Iknowseveralotherpeoplewhowouldliketohearallaboutyourgoodfortune."

"Finishupyourteaandwe'llgo,"saidMr.Bletsall,pushingbackhischair.

Petertookonesipanddroppedthecupwithacrashontothetable.InanothersecondhehadgrippedBletsallbythearm.

"Don'tbeabsurd,"saidMr.Bletsall....

AllthewaytoScotlandYardhewasbabblingofthecarshehadbought,ofthemagnificentestateforwhichhewasnegotiating,andthemillionswhichwouldbehisintheverynearfuture.

EvenasipofdilutedamotoxylenewassufficienttosendPetertobed,grippingthesheetsconvulsively.SuperintendentBrissencameroundtoseehiminthemorning.

CHAPTERVIII

LEE SMITT had no police record and no apparent nationality, though heclaimedtoheAmericanandtheclaimwasnotdisputed.CertainlyhehadlivedintheUnitedStates,anditwasprettyeasytolocatethearea,forintheearlydayshehadtherapid-firelingooftheMiddleWest,whichissodisconcertingtotheleisurelySouthernerandasourceofamusementinNewYork.

Red Sanderson was undoubtedly American. and had probably come fromEnglishstockwhowereSandersoninthedayswhenpeoplewroteS'slikeF's.

JoeKellywasjustcosmopolitan;heknewParis,spokeFrenchratherwell,hadseentheinsideoftwoFrenchprisons,andhadhadanarrowescapeoftakingtherapatCayenne,whichisfrequentlyandinaccuratelyreferredtoasDevil'sIsland,forDevil'sIslandisonlyabitofit.

TheycameunobtrusivelyintoLondoninthedayswhenSergeantPeterDunnwasnewlycometotheCriminalInvestigationDepartmentandwassittingatthefeetofInspectorSamAllerway,learninghisbusiness.

Peter,asalltheworldknows,istheonlybaronetoftheUnitedKingdomthateverwalked a beat. Therewere quite a number of peoplewho thought thatwhen he succeeded, on his grandfather's death, to his title and fortune, beshouldhaveretiredgracefullyfromtheforce.

Acertainlordlyrelativeonceexpressedthispointofview,andPeterasked:

"WhenyoubecameLordWhatever-your-name-isdidyougiveupgolf?"

"No,"saidthestaggeredaristocrat.

"Verywellthen,"saidPeter.

"Ireallydon'tseetheconnection,"saidhisbaffledlordship."Policeworkisn'tagame?"

"Youdon'tknowthehalfofit,"saidPeter.

Andherehewas,learninghisbusinessfromSamAllerway.

TherewasnobodymorecompetenttoteachayoungofficerthanSam.Hewasa great detective, the greatest in our generation.Hemight have reached thehighestrank,buthedrankalittle,gambledalot,andwasnotoriouslyindebt,and therefore suspect: though Sans had never taken a cent from any illicitsourceinhislife.

There is apopulardelusion thathighofficers atScotlandYardown rowsofhousesandhaveconsiderableinvestments.NodoubtverylargepresentshavebeenmadeandacceptedbygratefulcitizenswhohavebenefitedbythegeniusandprescienceofmenatScotlandYard.It isagainstallregulations,butit isnotagainsthumannature.Perhaps,ifSamhadbeenofferedsomebigpresentsbythelaw-abidingpeoplehehadhelped,hemighthaveacceptedthem,butallhisoffershadcomefromthewrongendofthebusiness.

"Youcan'tlearnthistoosoon.Peter,"hesaid."Thecrook'smoneyhasgottwohookstoit—andthosehooksnevercomeout!Thisdoesn'taffectyou,becauseyou'vegotallthemoneyintheworld,andIknowjustwhat'sgoingtohappentothebirdwhotriestoslipyouamonkeyforgivinghimfiveminutestogetoutofthehouse."

SamAllerwaywasneverapopularmanwithhissuperiors.Hisacidgibingsmade him no friends. He had a trick of summarising the character and thedispositionofhischiefs inonebitinganduncomplimentaryphrase,and,butfor the fact that he was a brilliant thief-catcher, he would never haveprogressedasfarasinspector.

OneofthefewpeoplewhorespectedhimandunderstoodhimwasacertainJ.G.Reeder,who at that timewas associatedwith theBankers Trust as theirprivatedetectiveandinvestigator;butasMr.Reederdoesnotcomeintothisstory it will be sufficient to sum up the character of Sam Allerway is hiswords.

"Thecriminalclasseswouldhewelladvised."hesaid."andbegivingnomorethanwhatisdue,iftheyerectedastatuetothemanwho—um—introducedoldbrandyintoourcountry,"

OldbrandywasSamAlleyway'sweakness.Buthewasperfectlysoberonthe

night the Canadian Bank of Commerce was robbed of 530,000 Canadiandollars.

The robberywas effected between five o'clockon aSaturday afternoon andseveno'clockontheSundaymorning.Threemenhadconcealedthemselvesinan office immediately above the bank premises. The Canadian Bank ofCommercewassituatedinalargecornerblockfacingTrafalgarSquare.

Thelowerfloorandthebasementwereentirelyoccupiedbythebankers,thefive floors above being given over to various businesses, that immediatelyabovethebankpremisesbeingoccupiedbyaninsurancecompany.Theblockhadbeenspeciallybuilt,andwasthebank'sproperty.Betweentheinsuranceoffice and the banking department was a concrete floor which was furtherstrengthenedbyanirongridsetinthecentreofthesolidconcrete.

On the day of the robbery Trafalgar Square was filled with an organiseddemonstration of the unemployed. Parties arrived front various parts ofLondon,eachheadedbyabandandcarryingtheirbannersandslogans.Allthepolicereservesweregatheredtodealwithpossibledisturbances,

Another favourable circumstance for the burglars was that a section of theroadwaybeforethebankwasbeingtornuptodealwithafaultygasmain.Allthatafternoon,withtheindifferentmusicofthebrassbandstherehadmingledthestaccatorattleofautomaticroad-breakers.

There could be no question that pneumatic drills were also used by theburglars, and that they synchronised their operations with those of theworkmen outside. The concrete ceiling was broken through immediatelyabovethemanager'soffice,whichwaslocked,andtowhichthetwowatchmenonthepremiseshadnoaccess.

As towhether therewere twowatchmen present or notwhen the floorwaspierced is a question which has never been satisfactorily settled. Bothmensworetheywereonthepremises,butitisalmostcertainthatoneofthemwentoutfaranhour,andduringthathourthethievesgotintothemanager'sroom,unlockedthedoorontheinside,sluggedtheoneremainingwatchman,whomthey surprised as he was looking through the plate-glass window at thedemonstrators,andtiedhimup.

Thesecondwatchmanwasknockedoutnearthesideentranceofthebank,andincircumstanceswhichsuggestedthathemusthavecomeinfromtheoutsideat some time in the afternoon, since there was no hiding place where hisattackerscouldwait,exceptbehindthedoor.

The twomenwere blindfolded before theywere tied up and gagged. They

were unable to give any description of the burglars, and, but for thecircumstancethatthefirstmanhadbeenblindfoldedwithoneoftherobber'sownhandkerchiefs,whichborealaundrymark,noevidenceatallmighthavebeen secured thatwould convict themor even give the police is reasonableclue.

Thethreemenhadanexcellentkitoftools.Theywereabletoopenthevaultdoor, cut through the bars of an inner grille, and remove every scrap ofcurrencyinthevault.

Every hour the bank was closed a patrolling policeman, passing the sideentranceofthebank,pressedasmallbell-pushandwaitedtillhereceivedananswering clang from a bell set in thewall. Evidently the thieves knew thebankmethod thoroughly, for he and his relief received all the signals untileighto'clock.Atthathour,whenthepolicemanpressedthebellhereceivednoanswer.He tried again, butwith no further success, and in accordancewithpracticehereportedthefacttoheadquartersatCannonRow,whichisScotlandYard.

Hethenmadehiswaytothefrontofthebankandpeeredin.Twolightswereburning,asusual,andtherewasnosignthatanythingwaswrong.Herappedonthefrontdoor,receivednoanswer,andwaitedhereuntilasquadcarcamefrom headquarters, carrying his immediate chief, and, what was moreimportant,duplicatekeysof thebank,whichwerekeptatCannonRow inacase,theglassofwhichhadtobesmashedbeforetheycouldbetakenout.

The discovery of the robbery was immediately made. One of the twowatchmenwas sentoff tohospital in anambulance, the second taken to thestation for questioning.Within half an hour the big chiefs of ScotlandYardwereat thebank,makingtheir investigations,andAllerwaywasallocatedtothecase.

"ThisisnotanEnglishjob,"hesaid,whenhemadeaninspectionofthetools."It is aYankee crowd or a French crowd, and it's nine to one in favour ofAmerica."

"Isuppose,"saidhischief,whodidnotlikehim(hewasafterwardsdismissedfor incompetenceby theKenleyCommission) "you'regoingon the fact thatthetoolsareAmerican-made?Well—"

"They'reEnglish-made."saidAllerway,"asyouwouldhaveseenif theLordhadgivenyougoodeyesightandyouweren'ttoolazytolook."

Allerwayusedtotalklikethistochiefinspectors,andthatwaswhyhewasnotparticularlypopular.

Hebeganhissearchliketheworkmanhewas.BytheMondaymorninghehadidentifiedRedFandersonastheownerofthehandkerchief.HehadaroomofftheWaterlooBridgeRoad,andasearchof this ledAllerwaytoaveryhigh-classhotelintheWestEndandto.thediscoveryofagentlemanlyguestwhohad left on the previous day after ostentatiously labelling his baggage forCanada.

Here Allerway had a lucky break. There had been staying in the hotel aSouthernEuropeanroyalty,whohadbeenphotographedbyanewspapermanasheleftthehotelonemorning.QuiteunconsciouslyMr.LeeSmitt,whohadalsochosenthatmomenttoleavethehotel,hadappearedinthebackground.Withhimhadvanishedhisvalet,JosephKelly,pleasantlyspoken,afavouriteinthecouriers'roomandquiteamodestpersonality.

Thepolicethroughoutthecountrywerewarned.AweeklaterSampickedupanewclue.AmanansweringLeeSmitt'sdescriptionhadpurchasedasecond-hand car, and had it registered in the name of Gray. He had chosen anAmericancarofaverypopularmake.

"Thenumber-plate—"beganthegarageman.

"Youcanforgetthenumber-plate:he'sgotanotheronebynow,"saidSam.

ItwasPeterDunn'sfirstbigcase,andhewasthrilled.Hehardlygotanysleepinthefirstweekofthechase,andonthenightthethreemenwerelocatedhewas ready todrop;but thenews that the carhadbeen seenpassing throughSloughgalvanisedhimtolife.

It was a foul night; rain was pouring in buckets. and a gale of wind wassweepingupfrontthesouth-west.TheypickedupthetrailatMaidenhead,lostit again atReading, cut back toHenleywithout any greater success.At sixo'clockinthemorningthecarwasseenatAndover,andabarragelaiddown,butLeedoubledback towardsGuildford. Itwason theGuildfordRoad thattheycameheadtohead,thesquadcarandthatwhichcarriedthewantedmen.Leetriedtodartpast,butthesquaddriverrammedhim.

Therewasinthepolicecar,besidesthedriver,onlyPeterDunnandInspectorSamAllerway,butthethreemenofferednoresistance.

PetertookchargeoftheprisonersandSamdrovethecarback.Theystoppedatalittlewaysideinn,andhereSamsearchedthecar.Hefoundnothingintheshapeofproperty.Thereweretwosuitcases,containingthebelongingsoftheprisoners.butnomoney.

Itwas curious, thenumberofpeoplewhohad seenLeoSmitt andhis three

companions,ifnotleavingthebankcarryingasuitcase,atleastinthevicinityof the bank. Yet they might have escaped conviction on the ground ofinsufficientevidenceifSamAllerwayhadnotdugupfromarailwayluggageroomaduplicatesetofbank-smashingtools.Itwasonthisevidencethatthethreemenwentdownfortwelveyears.

It was this evidence which spurred Lee Smitt to make his remarkablestatement, that in the car when he was captured were four packages ofCanadian currency valued $60,000. Smitt told the judge that Sam hadpromisedtomakeitlightforhimifhecouldsliptheseinhispocketandforgetthem.Itwasacrudelie.PeterDunnstoodinthecourt,raging.Butitwasoneofthoselieswhichhadpossibilities.Peoplereadtheaccountandsaid:"Well,Iwonder.... ?"Therewas a departmental inquiry.SamAllerwaywas crushed,beaten.He turnedup for themeetingof theboard,drunkand truculent, andwasdismissedtheforce.

AfortnightlatertheypickedhisbodyoutoftheThames.

Two years after that Peter Dunn was the principal witness at another staffinquiry,andthechiefinspectorwhohadbeenresponsibleforAllerway'sruinwasdismissedwithignominy,andnarrowlyescapedatermofimprisonment.

Where was the bulk of the money taken from the Canadian Bank ofCommerce? Scotland Yard thought it had been sent abroad, divided intothousandsofsmallsumsandsentthroughtheposttoanAmericanaddress.Itwas a simple method of disposing of paper currency. and practicallyundetectable.

Interrogatedat intervalsatDartmoor,LeeSmitthintedthat thishadbeenthemethodofdisposal.ButtherewereshrewdmenatScotlandYardwhopointedoutthatatthetimethemoneyhadbeenstolenthemenhadbeenfugitives,andthat there had been a special watch placed by the post office on all bulkypackagesaddressedtotheUnitedStates.

Peter'sownreportonthecaseisworthquoting.

"These threemen arrived in England sixmonths before the robbery, whichwasnotonlyperfectlyplanned,but theirgetawaywasasskilfullyarranged.Theyhadacartotakethemtothecoast,butthiswasdamagedinacollision;otherwisethesecondcarwouldnothavebeenpurchased.LeeSmittisamanwith anAmerican police record: hewas concerned in three bank robberies,wassentencedtofromfivetotwentyyearsinSing-Sing.butwasreleasedonatechnicality when the case went to the Appellate Court. He is a man ofbrillianteducationandthereisnoevidencethathehadanyconfederateintheUnitedStates.EveryimportantbankinAmericahascompliedwiththerequest

of ScotlandYard to render an account of suspicious depositsmade bymailfromEngland,andnothingoutoftheordinaryhasbeendiscovered."

Nine years later the three men were released from Dartmoor, escorted toSouthamptonandputonaboatbound for theUnitedStates.TheNewYorkpolice reported their arrival.And that, so far as PeterDunnwas concerned,wastheendofthecase.

CHAPTERIX

ITwasinthelatesummerofthenextyearthathebecameacquaintedwiththeDeathWatch,andinthestrangestandmostunusualcircumstances.

PeterDunnwas takingavacation.His ideaofavacationwas tohirea littlecabincruiserandmove leisurelyfromKingston toOxford,campingatnightbyanypromisingmeadow,stoppingatthetownstopurchasehissupplies,and,withtheaidofagramophoneandasmalllibraryofbookswhichhebroughtwithhim,passtheeveningsthatseparatedhimfrontthemorning'splungeinthe river andanotherdayofprogress throughaprocessionof locks towardsthehistoriccityheknewsowell.

BetweenLocktonandBourneEndthehillsrisesteeply.Itisawildandanotparticularly cheerful spot in thedaytime.Hearrivedathis anchorage late atnight, tied up to theweedy bank, pulled down the fly-proof shutters of hiscabinandcookedhiseveningmeal.

Itwasnotanightwhichattractedholiday-makerstotheriver.Adrizzleofrainwas falling; a chillwindblewdown the river, andwhen the sun set hewasgladtopullonanextrawarmpullover.Hedidnotknowthispartoftheriveratall,andhadafeelingthatitwassomedistancefromaroad.Heneithersawmotor-carlightsnorheardthehumofengines.

PetercursedtheEnglishsummer,pulledclosethedoorofhislittlecabin,andspenttenminutesdestroyingsuchinquisitiveflyingthingsushadfoundtheirwayintotheinterior.

He was trying to read a German work on criminal practice, but found itdifficult to keep his eyes open. At nine o'clock he got into his pyjamas,extinguishedthelittlereadinglampandslippedintobed.

Hewas not a heavy sleeper, but certain noteswoke himmore quickly thanothers.Hecould sleep through theheavy rumbleof traffic and the soundof

deep-throatedklaxonhorns,butashrillnoteamidstthenoisewouldwakehiminstantly.

Hewasawakebeforeherealisedhehadbeenasleep.itwasawoman'sscream:therewasnodoubtaboutit.Hehearditrepeated,andtumbledoutofhisbunk,listening.Itwasascreamofterror—somebodywasin,horriblefear.

He pulled awaterproof coat over his pyjamas, pushed open the door of thecabinandcameouttothelittlewelldeck.Somebodywascrashingthroughtheundergrowth,Heheardawoman'ssobs.

"Who'sthere?"hecalled.

Goingintothecabin,hefoundhishandtorchandsentapowerfulbeamintothedarkness.

Thegirlwhowasfoundbythelightstood,terrified,staringtowardshim.Shewas in her nightdress and anold, discoloured robe.Her hairwas awry.Theround,moon-likefacewasdistortedwithfear.

"It'sallright,"saidPeter.

Evidentlysomethinginhisvoicereassuredher,forshecamescramblingdownthesteepbank.

"Don'tcomeanyfarther.I'llpullmyboatin.Whatisthematter?"

Shedidnotansweruntilhehadgrabbedthemooringropeanddrawnthesternof the boat into the bank. The hand he tookwas deadly cold, and shewasshiveringfromheadtofoot.

"Getmeawayoutofhere—getmeawayquickly!"shesobbed."Thathorriblething....! Iwouldn't stay another night.... I heard thedeathwatch, too, and ItoldMr.Hannayandheonlylaughed."

"You'veseensomethingdisagreeable,haveyou?"saidPeter.

Hehad takenher tohiscabinandputa rugaroundher.Anunprepossessingyoungwoman,heclassifiedherwithoutdifficulty,andwhenshetoldhimlaterthatshewasahousemaidhewasrathersurprisedthatshehadattainedeventothatposition.

Hehadsomehotcoffeeinathermosflask,whichhehadputawayagainsthisearlymorningbreakfast.Hegaveherthis,andshebecamemorecoherent.

"IworkinMr.Hannay'shouse,sir....itusedtobeoneofDiggin'sFollies,Youknowtheplace."

"No,Idon'tknowtheplace,"saidPeter."WhoisMr.Hannay?"

ShewasveryvagueaboutMr.Hannay.except thathewasa richgentleman"inthedrapery".

Apparentlyitwasthedeathwatchthatworriedher.Shehadhearditagainandagain.Twoother servants had left, because,when thedeathwatch sounded,something always happened. She had heard the click-click-click of it in thewall.

"Whenyouhearthatsomebody'sgoingtodie."

"Iknowthesuperstition,"saidPeterwithasmile."It'salittlebeetleandhe'squiteharmless."

Sheshookherhead.

"Not here, sir." She was very serious. "When you hear the death watch atChesterfordsomethingalwayshappens."

Peterheardavoicehailingtheboatfromthebankandwentoutside.Hesawatall,thinmanwhocarriedatorchinhishand,.

"Haveyouseenagirl?"askedaboomingvoice.

"I'vegotherhereyes,"saidDick.

"I'mMr.Hannay,ofChesterford."Thevoicehadacertainpomposityandself-importance."Oneofthosestupidservantshasbeenmakingafussbecausesheheard the death watch and thought she saw something... she ran out of thehousebeforeIcouldstopher."

"Ifyouplease,sir"—thegirlhadcomeoutofthecabinandstoodbehindPeter—"Iwassofrightened,sir."

"Comebacktothehouseimmediately,"saidHannay'svoice."Really,itistooabsurdofyou,makingmeridiculousandmakingyourselfridiculous.Ghosts!Whoeverheardofghosts?"

"lsawit,sir"

"Rubbish!"saidMr,Hannay."Comealong,I'lltakeyoubacktothehouse."

Peter was a little relieved. He had no particular desire to accommodate ayoungladyfortheremainderofthenight.Hislittleclocktoldhimitwasjustaftermidnight,andhedidnotrelishtheprospectofsittingupallnightwithacompanionwhoseonly topicof conversationwasghosts anddeathwatches.

Hehelpedthegirltotheshore.

"Thankyouverymuch,Mr.—um—?"

Peterdidnotobligehimwithhisname.Hewasgladwhenthegirlhadgone,butforanhourhelay,turningfromsidetosideinhisbunk,speculatinguponthisstrangelittleadventure.Deathwatch?Ghosts?Hesmiled.

Hewas justdozingoffwhen therecameanother interruption.Hegotoutofbedandagainwentoutofthecabin,notintoogoodatemper.Themanonthebankhadnolantern.

"Excuseme,sir,areyouthegentlemanthatgavesheltertoLily?"

ForareasonbestknowntohimselfPeterwentsuddenlycold.

"Yes,"hesaidquietly.

"Shetookawayyourrug.Mr.Hannayaskedusetoreturnittoyou."

AllPeter'sirritationwasgonenow.Dimlyhecouldseethemanonthebank.Hehadlefthislanterninthecabin,butevidentlythemanonthebankcouldseehim"Willyoucatch,sir?"

Somethingwasthrownathim;thesoftmassoftherugstruckhiminthechest.

"Haveyougotit?Goodnight,sir."

Themanwentscramblingupthesteeppathtotheinvisiblehouse.Peterstoodforalongtime,therainpattering,ontheshouldersofhiswaterproof.

"GoodLord!"hesaidsoftly.

Hewentbacktothecabin,switchedonthelightandsatdown:

"Who the dickens was Diggin?" he asked aloud at the end of an hour ofthought."Andwhatwashispeculiarbrandoffolly?"

Helefthismooringsjustafterdaybreak,stoppedatMarlowandwentashore,andatthatunearthlyhourengagedaroomattheRedLion,wherehefinishedhis interrupted sleep. At ten o'clock his boat was still moored at the bigboathouse,andPeterwaspursuinginquiries.

Digginwasabuilder,longsincedead.Hehadconceivedtheideaofbuildingtwovillasonthecrestsoftwoidenticalhills.Theywerenotgoodvillas,buttheywere very precious in the sight ofMr.Diggin,who had been both thearchitectandthebuilder.Theysufferedfromthisdisadvantage,thattheywerenear no main road, were indeed almost unapproachable, since in the days

when they were built the motor-car was an unknown method of transport.They were red brick villas, with bow windows and slate roofs, altogetherunlovely, and theywere called "Diggin'sFollies"becausenobodywanted tobuythemorhire them.Eventheadventof themotor-cardidnotmakethemanymoredesirable.

TheweekbeforehisdeathMr.Digginhadsoldoneandthelandonwhichitstoodtoamanwhointendedstartingitpoultryfarm.Hehadneverstartedit.Thesecond,andmoreimportant,salewasconductedbyMr.Diggin'sexecutor,andthepurchaserwasMr.Hannay,whohadsobuiltontothisvillathatithadlostitsnativeuglinessandhadattainedthedignityofacountryhome."Infact,Chesterfordisoneofthenicesthousesintheseparts."saidPeter'sinformant."Ithasbeautifulgrounds,abathingpoolandeverything."

Mr. Hannay apparently was a wholesale draper who had passed hisresponsibilitieson to a limited liability company in thedayswhencompanypromoters were paying enormous sums for likely propositions. He had onechild,adaughter—hernamewasPatricia.Peterhadaglimpseofher,drivingabigRollsthroughthetown.Sheworeabluetennisjacketandagailycolouredscarfaboutherthroat.Herheadwasbareandherbrownhairwasflyinginalldirections. Pretty, he thought; but then, Peter had this weakness, that hebelievedmostwomenwerepretty.

Hisverydiscreet inquiriesproducednostoriesofghosts—atleast,noghostsattachedtoChesterford.YetsomethingpeculiarwashappeninginMr.Hannay'shouse.Servantswereleaving;fewstayedtheremorethanaweek—thishelearnedatalocalemploymentagency.Thebutlerhadleftamonthbeforeandhadbeenreplaced.Twocookshadleftinoneweek;therehadbeenfivenewmaidsinthehouseinthepasttwomonths.

Mr. Hannay was a gentleman of irreproachable character. He was rich, achurchgoer,hada largeelectriccanoeand twocars.Obviouslyhewasnotaflightyman; aplain,matterof fact, sober, rather intolerant citizen, so far asPetercouldmakeout.Therehadbeensomefeelinglocallybecause,atarecentParliamentary election, he had discharged two gardeners who had had thetemerity tovote for theLabourcandidate,andvery foolishlyhadboastedoftheirfelldeed.

Hewas. infact. thekindofmanonemightmeet inanysmallEnglishtown,whobelievedthatthecountrywasgoingtothedevilandthatsomethingoughttobedoneaboutit.

ThreedaysofhisvacationPetergaveup toa littleprivate investigation.HewentnearenoughtothehousetocatchaglimpseofMissPatriciadrivingthe

yellowRolls,andwasconsiderablyimpressed.

The household, he discovered, consisted ofMr.Hannay and his daughter, aworkingbutlernamedHiggins,twomaids.oneofwhomhadleftinahurry—Petersupposedthiswashisterrifiedguest—andagardener-chauffeurwhohadrecentlybeenengaged.

Peter made a very careful survey of the grounds, but did not approach thehouse.ItwaseasiertoexaminethesecondofMr.Diggin'sFollies,fortheredbrickvillastoodmoreorlessasithadbeendeliveredfromitsmaker'shands:an atrocity of a building, gaunt, desolate. It stood in two acres of untidyground.Noattempthadbeenmade to formagarden; theweedswereknee-high;thewindowsblurredwiththerainsanddustofyears.Inonepartofthefield—it was little more—he found the old chicken huts that had beendelivered years before and had been stacked at the back of the house. Theweatherhadtakentollofthem:mostofthemhadfallentopieces.

He cleaned a pane of glasswith his handkerchief and stared into an emptyroom,thewallsofwhichhadbeencoveredwithapaperofatrociouspattern.Itwaspeelingfromthewalls,andashestaredhesawalittlebrownformwhiskacross the floor and disappear into a cavity which he identified as the firegrate.

"Ratsandrubbish,"saidPeter.

He tried the doors, front and back: they were locked. At the back door hethoughthesawthetraceofafootprint,butthiswasnotremarkable:thepeopleintheneighbourhoodoftencameovertostareatDiggin'sFolly;theyoverranthesurroundingground,andwouldhavepicnickedthereifitsbleakcharacterhadencouragedsuchafrivolity,

About twenty years before, the gloomy house had gained notoriety as thesceneofaverycommonplacemurder.Atrampwomanhadbeenmurderedbyanotherwanderer of the road,whohad long since fallen through the trap inexpiation of his crime. It was when he was making inquiries about thisdesertedplacethatPeterheardthefirsthintofaghost.

Theplacewasreputedlyhaunted,orhadenjoyedthatreputationtillthepublicgrewtiredof itsmystery.YetPeterdiscoveredanelderlymanwhohadseentheoldtrampwomanwalkinginthegroundsofthehouse,wringingherhandsandmoaning.

"Iadmit I'dbeendrinking thatnight," saidhis informant, "but IknowwhenI'vehadenough."

"That,"saidPeter."isamorecommonillusionthanghosts."

Hehad threeweeksvacation.Nearly aweekof itwasgone.Hewentup toScotlandYardandsawhischief."Surely,youcanhavesixweeksifyouwantit. It's due to you, but you told me that three would be sufficient?" Peterexplainedthatheneededtherest.Hehadjustfinishedwithanimportantandtiringcase,andtheextraleavewasgranted.

Hehadanotherobjectincomingtotown.Hecollectedhiscar.PeterDunnwasarichman.ItwastheComplaintofScotlandYardthatheoughtnottobethereatall.

HecamebackthistimetoMaidenhead.HedidnotwanttobeatMarlowtoolong,andwithhiscarthequestionofdistancewasnoobject.

ItwasnottobesupposedthathispresenceintheimmediateneighbourhoodofChesterfordshouldpassunnoticed.AfterdinneronenightPatHannayaskedaquestion.

"Ayoungman?Goodheavens, Idon'tnoticeyoungmen!Oneof themaid'sadmirers—thatnewgirlJoyceisratherpretty."

"He doesn't look like a maid's admirer," said Pat. "In fact, I cherish theromanticimpressionthathemightbewaitingtocatchaglimpseofme."

"Nonsense!"saidherfather.

"You'revery rude,"saidPat,and then:"Doyourealise thatweknowhardlyanybodyin thisneighbourhood?We'vegota lovely tenniscourt thatnobodyplaystennison,andevenmyLondonfriendsdonotcometoChesterford."

Mr.Hannaylookedatherinamazement,

"Why on earth do youwant people here?" he said. "Half the delight of thecountryisthatoneisalone."

"Itisn'thalfmydelightorevenaquarterofit,"saidPatriciaHannay,andwentonwithoutapause:"Hewasrathernice-looking."

"Whowas?"askedherbaffledfather."Oh,theyoungmanyousaw?Well"—heavilyjocose—"whydon'tyouaskhimtoplaytenniswithyou?"

"Ithoughtofthat,"saidPat,andthenstruckamoreseriousnote."Youknowthecookhasleft?"

"Hasshe?"saidMr.Hannayinastonishment."I thoughttonight'sdinnerwasextraordinarilygood—"

"I cooked it," said Pat. "Itwas rather fun, but if I did itmore than twice itwouldbeabore.Daddy.doyourealisewhatanawfullyuglyhousethisis?"

ShewastouchingMr.Hannay'stenderestpoint.HeWasanamateurarchitect.Itwashisboastthathehaddesignedtheadditionsthathadturnedavillathatwasplaintothepointofuglinessintosomethingwhichborearesemblancetoacharming,countryhouse.

"Idon'tmeanthatthearchitecture'sugly,"saidPat,hastilytactful,"butit'ssoisolated,and Icanalmostunderstand theservantsgetting ideasaboutghostsand groanings and rappings. Why don't you let it, daddy? That was amagnificentofferyouhadtheotherday,"

"Let it?"scoffedMr.Hannay."Absurd!Itwouldbe—um—derogatorytomyposition.Ican'tletfurnishedhouses.Ieitherclosethemuporsellthem.IwassayingtoDr.Herzoffattheclub—he'sanexcellentplayer;infact,Ihadallmyworkcutouttobeathim—"

ShehadheardofDr.Herzoffbefore.

"Ishelivingattheclub-house?"

"I don't know where he's living—at some hotel in the neighbourhood. Acharming.fellow,withatremendoussenseofhumour—"

"Whichmeanshe laughsatyour jokesandhasn'theardyourancientstories,daddy.Doesheplaytennis?"Hannaythoughthemight.

AfterteatheneatnightPatstrolledoutdowntothelowergarden.BeyondthetrimboxhedgeranaroadwhichhadnotbeenaroadatalluntilMr.Hannayhadmade it. It was here she had seen themysterious youngmanwho hadexcitedherinterest.Shewonderedwhathewouldsayif,withtheboldnessofdespair,sheinvitedhimtoagameofsingles.Shewasalittledisappointedthatshehadnottheopportunityofmakingthistest.

That night there came a crisis in the affairs of Chesterford. Patwas in thatpleasantstagebetweensleep.andwakefulnesswhensheheardashrilloutcry.Shesatupinbed.listening.Fromsomewherenearathandshehearda"click-click-click,"and,despiteherphilosophy.shivered.Thedeathwatch!Shehadhearditbefore,butnotquitesodistinct.Againcamethescream.Shereachedforherdressing-gownandslippedoutofbed.Inanothersecondshewasinthecorridor.

Themaid's roomwas at the end of the passage. She tried the door; it waslocked,butthe.incoherentbabbleofsoundwhichcamefromwithintoldhershehadnotmadeanymistake.

Mr,Hannayhadheardthecry.Patturnedherheadatthesnapofhislock.Hecameout,agauntfigure,moreexasperatedthanfrightened.

"Whatthedevil'sthematter?"heasked,

Patdidnotanswer,Shewasrattlingthehandleofthemaid'sdoor.

"Joyce! Joyce!What is thematter?Open thedoor."Thekey turned and thedooropened,Joycestoodthereinhernightgown.hereyesstaringwildly.

"Oh,miss,Isawit!"shegasped."Isawitasplainlyas...."

"Sawwhat?"

Patbrushedpastherintotheroom,closingthedoor,Thegirlfellbackontheedgeofherbed.herfaceinherhands.

"Whatdidyousee?"askedPatagain.

Foralittletimethemaiddidnotspeak.

"Itseemedtopassthroughthedoor,miss,"shesaidinahollowtone."andIlocked thedoorbefore I came tobed. Itwalked slowlypastme and sort ofdisappeared....itwasalmostasifitwalkedthroughthewall.

"It was a nightmare," said Pat, her heart quaking. Joyce shook her headvigorously.

"Oh,no,miss,itwasn't.Therewasnonightmareaboutthat.Ithappened.justastheothergirlssaidithappened.AndIwasn'tasleep;Iwaswideawake—asmuchawakeasIamatthisveryminute."

Patmeditatedforasecond.Shesimplydarednotaskanymorequestions:thistypeofterrorgrewonwhatitfedon.Thenhernaturalcuriosityovercameherdiscretion.

"Whatwasitlike?"

"Ahorrible-lookingman.Hehadaterribleface.Dressedintramp'sclothes....dirty-looking....hewasawful.Therewasbloodonhishands:itseemedtobedrippingashewalked!"

Patlookedatherhelplessly,thenwenttothedourandopenedit.

Maymyfathercomein?"

Hannaywasstandingoutside.

"Joyce says she saw a ghost—a tramp or something, with blood On hishands."

"Stuffandnonsense!"growledMr.Hannay."Shemusthavebeendreaming."

Themaidlookedupathimresentfully.

"It'snotstuffandnonsense,sir,andI'venotbeendreaming."

Shegotupsuddenlyfromthebed,walkedtothewindow,and,drawingasidethethickcurtains,peeredout.Patsawherdrawback,anexpressionofhorroronherface."Look!"

Hannaypushedheroutoftheway,and,throwingopenthecasementwindow,thrust out his head. Then a chill ran down his spine, for he saw the mandistinctly.Hewas tall, grotesque in themoonlight, a figure thatmoved andmadestrangeandhideousnoisesasitwalked.

"That'shim,"quaveredJoyce."Doyouhear?Thatwaswhat Iheard....quitenear,miss!"

TherewasperplexityonHannay'sface,anxietyonPat's.Twitchingterroronthe face of themaid. Pat supposed.With a quietmalice, that the girl foundsomeenjoymentinherterror—wasatleastlayingthefoundationforhorrificstoriestobetoldtoherfriends.

"Iwaswideawake.HecamesoclosetomeIcouldhavetouchedhim...."

Sheseemedlothtoleavethesubject.

"Whatdidhelooklike?"askedMr.Hannay.

"She'stoldyouonce."saidPatimpatiently.

ButJoycewasnottobedeniedhernarrative.

"Hisfacewashorrible!"Sheshuddered."Likeamanwhowasdead!"

"Comeintothelibrary."saidPattoherfather.Sheturnedtothemaid.

"You'd better wake up Peterson and ask him to give you something hot todrink."

They left the girl sitting on the edge of the bed, covering her facewith herhands.Mr.Hannayledtheway,walkingtohisdeskinthelibrary.Itwastheonespotinthehousewherehecouldcommandanysituation.Andherewasasituationwhichaskedforcommand.Yet,aswashiswont,hewaitedforaleadfromhisdaughter.Mr.Hannayinitiatednothing.Hefoundtheweakplacein

thesuggestionsofothers,andbythisprocess,whichoperatedthroughouthislife,hehadamassedafortune.

"Father,we'vegottodosomething."

NobodyknewthisbetterthanMr.Hannay.

"Well,whatdoyouexpectmetodo?"heasked.

Therewasanobvioussolution,andshesuggestedit.

"Sendforthepolice."shesaid.

Herfathersnorted.

"Andmakemyself a laughing stock! Police—ghosts! I've never heard suchnonsense!Don'tyousupposethatthatideahasalreadybeenconsideredbymeandrejected?"

"Whatarewegoingtodoaboutit?"sheaskedsquarely."Daddy,Ican'tgoon;thisthingisgettingonmynerves."

ItwasgettingonMr.Hannay'snervesalso.

"Itisallverystupid,"hesaid.

Therewasalittlepauseashethought,hisheadonhishands.

"That man, I met at the golf club.... Professor Herzoff—he's a very well-knownscientist.Haveyouheardofhim?"

Patriciashookherhead.

"Neither have I," admitted Hannay naively. "It's very odd, we were talkingaboutghosts.Idon'tknowwhatfoolbroughtitup.Hebelievesinthem."

Patstaredathim.

"Ishegrownup....andbelievesinghosts?"

"He's grown up and believes in ghosts," saidHannay firmly. "I'll bring himovertomorrowmorning.Hemightgiveusanewangletothesituation."

It was not the first time Mr. Hannay had evaded the big issue. Alwaystomorrowsomethingwouldbedone.Patsighed.

"Iwantanewcooktothesituation,"shesaid."That'sthethirdservantwe'velostinafortnight.Afterall,thesepeoplehaveseenthings."

"Idon'tbelieve it,"saidMr.Hannay irritably."It'sall imagination.Ghosts—bah!Deathwatches—rubbish!"Sheheldupherfingertoenjoinsilence.Fromsome.wherenearathand thedeathwatchwas tappingrhythmically,noisily,ominously.

CHAPTERX

MR. HERZOFF—when he was called "Professor" he generally protested—wasamanofmiddleheight,spareofframe,delicatelyfeatured.Hishairwasgrey;hislong,rathersensitivefacealmostcolourless.Behindhishorn-rimmedglasses were a pair of dark eyes, and the stare of these could be verydisconcerting.

Itwasgenerallybelievedat theMansionGolfClub thathewaswealthy.HeusedtospeakdisparaginglyofhislittlehouseatWeisseldorf,butfromwhathesaidoncetheygatheredthathislittlehousewasarespectable-sizedcastle.

His appearances at the club were of a fugitive character. He had been amemberformanyyears,butwhenhemadehis lastappearance thestaffhadalmost entirely changed. He played a good game of golf, was quiet,unassumingandanauthorityonalmosteverykindofsubjectfromeconomicstowildgamehunting.

Mr.Hannayfoundhimsingularlysympatheticwhen,alittleshamefacedlyandwithunderstandablehesitation,hebroachedthisquestionofthesupernatural.

Theprofessormustcomeoverandseehishouse.Mr.HannaywasveryproudofChesterford,andnevertiredofexhibitingit.Mostpeoplewhoacceptedhisinvitationhadgoneawayunimpressed.Mr.Herzoff,ontheotherhand,stoodbefore the house and pointed out certain admirable features of architecturewhich its designer had never noticed before.Mr. Hannay, with some pride,personally conducted his guest through the house. They came at last to adrawing-roomwhichowedmuchof its loveliness, if the truthbe told, to theinsistence of the builder upon certain characteristics, forwhichMr.Herzoffnowtookallthecredit.

"IfImayexpresstheopinion,it'saverybeautifulhome,"saidMr.Herzoff.

Hannayagreed.

"All that panelling came out of the Duke of—well, I forget his name, butanywayhewasaduke;hadachateauinFrance.I'vehadbigofferstoletit,but

no,sir!AmanfromLondonwasuphereamonthago,tryingtogetit.Hetoldmetowritemyowncheque."

"I canunderstandyour reluctance," saidHerzoffpolitely, andwaited for thestorywhichhadbeenpromisedhim."Yousaysomethinghappenedhere lastnight?"

Mr.Hannaytookadeepbreath.

"I am going to tell you," he said. "There have been some queer thingshappeninghere.Atleast,theseservantssayso.Itell'emthatthedeathwatchisallnonsense.It'salittlebeetlethatgetsintothewoodandstartsknockingtoattract the attention of the female beetle."Mr.Herzoff smiled.Heknew theinsect.

"That iswhat ithasallgrownoutof,"saidHannay."They think the tappingmeanssomebody'sgoing todie.That is thesuperstition.Yougetoneor twohystericalgirlsaroundtheplaceandthey'llimagineanything."

Mr.Herzoffappearedthoroughlyinterested.

"Whathavetheyheardorwhathavetheyseen?"heasked.

Mr.Hannayexplained.

"Idon'tbelieveinit—understandthat.Theymusthaveleftthewirelessononenight.Theyheardvoicestalking—peoplequarrelling.Thentheoldcooksawamanwalkingonthelawn.Somedownandoutlookingaroundforaplacetosleep,Iimagine.Lastnightthemaidsawhimagain."

Mr.Herzofffrowned.Hisdarkeyesfocuseduponhishost,Evidentlyhewasimpressed.

"Theyheardpeoplequarrelling—amanandawoman?That'squeer,"hesaid."That'squeer,"hesaid."That'sveryqueer!"

"Why,whatdoyoumean?"askedHannay,alarmed.

Theprofessordidnotattempttoexplainwhathemeant.Heaskedoneortwoquestions.What timewasitatnightwhenthisquarrellingwasheard?Whenhewastoldeleven,hestarted.

"Isthereanysignificanceinthat?"askedMr.Hannayanxiously.

"No," said the other slowly. "Only I would rather like to he here at eleveno'clockonenight."

"Would you?" askedHannay eagerly. "I was hoping youwould offer to dothat.I'llhaveyourthingsbroughtoverfromthehotel."

Mr.Herzoffhesitatedforafractionofasecond.

"You'd be doingme a favour,"Hannaywent on. "I'll tell you the truth,Mr.Herzoff. All this talk about ghosts and voices is getting me—er—ratherworried."

Herzofflookedathimthoughtfully.

"I don't want you to believe for onemoment that I am an authority on theoccult. I have dabbled in it just a little, as every scientist must. Generallyspeaking, all this ghost business has a very simple explanation. Eithersomebody is trying to fool you or somebody is lying to you. If you see ityourselves, that isquiteanothermatter,but it isnotconclusive. Ifyou thinkyourdaughterwon'tobjecttomystaying—"

"She'llbedelighted,"saidHannaywithgreatheartiness.

PathadbeenintoMarlow,shopping,andwasapproachingQuarryHillwhenthereshotoutoftheHenleyRoadabusinesslikelittleracingcar.Sheswervedviolently to the left and jammed on her brakes. hot with annoyance, notunconscious of the fact that she herself had been travelling at a very goodspeed.

PeterDunn,whodrovetheoffendingcar,stoppedwithinafewinchesofherrunningboardandeyedherreproachfully,

"There is a notice, telling you to go slow," said Pat indignantly. "Can't youread?"

Petershookhishead.

"No;Icandoalmosteverythingbutread,"hesaidcalmly.

Shewasbreathless,stillangry,yetmindfulofthefactthatherewithinafewfeetofhersatthemysteriousyoungmanwhoseconstantappearancesnearthehousehadexcitedherinterest.

"Youmighthavekilledme."shesaid.

"I might have killed myself, which is also important." His callousness andeffronterytookherremainingbreath.

"Verycharminglyput."shesaid,maintainingherpolitenesswithdifficulty.

"I'mverysorrytohavefrightenedyou,"hesaid,andthatwasexasperating.

"I'mnotfrightened!DoyoumindbackingyourcarsothatIcangoon?"

Hemadenoattempttomove.

"Can'tyougoonunlessIbackmycar?"heaskedinnocently.

"Can'tyousee?"

Shewasfuriouswithhim.

Henodded,

"Well,dosomething.please!"

Andthenheaskedasurprisingquestion.

"Aren'tyouMissPatriciaHannay?"

"Thatismyname,yes,"shesaidcoldly.

"GoodLord!Whatabitofluck!You'retheonepersonintheworldIwantedtomeet,Mynameis—"

"Idon'twanttoknowyourname,"shesaidhaughtily.

"ThefirstnameisPeter—"hebegan.

"I'mthrilled,"shesaid."Willyoupleasebackyourcar?"

Peter'sgesturewasoneofdespair.

"MayImakeaconfession?Thisisanewcar,andIdon'tknowhowitworks.Ionlyknowtheself-starterandthebrake."

Shelookedathimsuspiciously.

"Itdoesn'tsoundtrue,doesit?Well, it isn't,BeforeIbackIwanttoaskyousomething,MissHannay,andfirst Iwant toapologise toyouforgivingyousuchafright."

"IfyouimagineI'mfrightenedbya—"Shehesitatedforaword.

"Say it," he said gently. "Don't sparemy feelings. 'Brute'was thewordyouwerethinkingof—"

"Iwasn't,"shesaidtartlyandlookedround.

Acarwasbehindher,waitingtopass.

"We'reholdingupthetraffic."

Buthewasindifferent.

"I'llbetnothingfrightensyou—baddriving,collisions—ghosts—"

Hepausedinquiringly,andsawherstart.

"What do youmean—ghosts?" she said, a little breathlessly. "What do youknow?"

Petershruggedhisshoulders.

"Iwasinaboattheothernight.Oneofyourmaidscameflyingdownthehill,babblingofbogeys."

Shedidnotreply,butjuststaredathim.Andthen:

"Willyouletmego?"sheasked.

Heputhiscarintoreverseanddrewclear,andhermachinejerkedforwardandwentflyingupQuarryHill.Peterfollowedatamoreleisurelypace,butwhenhecametotheopenroadatthetopshewasoutofsight.

So that was theman....? She was not quite sure of him. Usually she couldplacemen,especiallyyoungmen,butforthemomentheeludedclassification.Hewasnotunpleasant, but she resentedhis assurance,whichmadeher feelsomethingofafool,certainlyalittleontheinferiorside.

Asshecameup thedrive toChesterford she sawa stranger standingbyherfather'ssideunder thewhiteportico,butsheinstantlyrecognisedhimbythedescription her father had given as the redoubtable Herzoff. Mr. Hannayintroducedhim.

"I'mafraidI'mtakingadvantageofyourfather'shospitality,MissHannay—Iamtheunexpectedguest."

Shesmiledatthis.

"Notaltogetherunexpected.We're ratherglad tohaveyou. Ihopeyouwon'tdieofindigestion,forthenewcookwillnotbeherefortwoorthreedays."

Apparently he had been on the point of leaving when she arrived. He wasdrivingovertohishoteltocollecthisbaggage.Shethoughtthat,ifshehadnotknownwhohewas,shewouldhaveplacedhimasascientist.Hewaswhatascientistshouldlooklike,shethought."Itwillhecharmingtohavehim,butwhyishecomingtostaywithusjustnow?"sheasked."Bytheway.doeshe

playtennis?"

Mr.Hannayshookhishead.

"I'm afraid he doesn't. The fact is, he's rather keen to go into this ghostbusiness."

Shemadeawry little faceas shewalked into thehouse. "Doesheknowallaboutit,too?"

"Why 'too' ?" asked Mr. Hannay with a frown, and she told him of heradventure.

"I don't know who this young man is, but apparently the fact that we aretroubledwithghosts—"

"Don't say 'troubled with ghosts'," said Mr. Hannay irritably. "It sounds asthoughweweretroubledwithcockroaches."

"They'reworse than cockroaches," said Pat. "Well, he's heard about them....thisyoungman."

"Whoishe?"askedMr.Hannay.

Patricia,peelinghergloves,sighedimpatiently,

"I don't know,daddy—he's just ayoungman.And rather impertinent.No, Iwouldn'tsaythat—notimpertinent.Buthe'salittleunusual."

"Doesheliveabouthere'?"

Shechangedthesubject.

"WhatdidyoutellMr.Herzoff?"

Hannaywas rather vague.Hehad told himabout the voices and the peopletalkingandthedeathwatch....

"Didyoutellhimaboutthedogthatwasfounddeadonthelawn?"sheaskedquietly.

Mr.Hannaywinced.Thatwastheonesubjectthathedidnotdiscuss.Hehadbought a dog, a trained police dog, and it had died in most peculiarcircumstances.Higgins, thenewbutler,hadbeen the solewitness,and therewas thedog, stiffon the lawn, to support the testimony.Higgins came in atthat .moment, amelancholy lookingman,with aweakness for taking awaydrinksthathadnotbeendrunkandtidyingthingsunnecessarily.

"Yousawit,Higgins?"

"Yes.miss,Isawit.Youweretalkingabout thedog,sir?Idon'twant toseeanythinglikeitagain."

"Hemighthavebeenpoisoned,"growledHannay.

Higginsshookhisheadsadly.

"Why,sir,whocouldhavepoisonedhim?Iwaswatchinghim.Hewalkedoutontothelawn.Icouldseehimplainlyinthemoonlight.AndthenIsawthiswomaninwhitecomeoutofthetrees,andshesortofliftedherhand.Theolddoghowledandjustdropped."

He took his handkerchief from his trousers pocket and dabbed his foreheadwithgreatprecision.

"Andthenextminute.sir"—impressively—"Iheardthedeathwatch—rightinmyroomwherethereisn'tanypanelling."

"Whydidn'tIseeit?"askedHannayirritably,andHigginslookedpained.

"Because.sir,ifImayrespectfullysuggestit,youwereasleep,andthereforeyouwasn'tlooking.Andifyouwasasleepandwasn'tlookingyoucouldn'tseeanything.That'sbeenmyexperience,sir.It'sgotme,sir."Hewasveryserious."I'vebeenwith someof thebest families in thecountryand I'venever seenanything like this happen."He looked roundoverhis shoulder as thoughheexpectedtofindsomesupernaturaleavesdropper.

"Thehouseishaunted,sir,"hesaidinaloweredvoice.

"Nothing of the sort," snapped Hannay. "I will see just what is going tohappen."

Higginssighed,gathereduptheglassesontoatrayandshookhishead.

"Youwon't seeanythingunlessyoukeepawake, sir—that'smyexperience."besaid

"I'llkeepawakeallright,"saidHannaygrimly."HaveabedroomgotreadyforProfessorHerzoff,He'scomingtostayheretonight."

WhenHigginshadgone:

"Thedeathwatch,mydear,asIhaveexplainedbefore—"

Patgroaned.

"—isalittlebeetleringinguphisgirlfriend—Iknowallaboutthat.Ilearntitatschool,"shesaid.

Shemetthenewgardenerthatafternoon.Itwasnouniqueexperiencetocomeacrossoddpeopleworkingaboutthehousewhomshehadneverseenbefore.Itwaslessofanexperiencetomeetservantsinthemorningandfindtheyhaddisappearedbytheevening.

Shecameacrossabigmanworkingwithahoeontheedgeof the lawn.Hegrinned at her and nodded. He was not a pleasant sight. He had broadshouldersandaround,odd-lookinghead.Hisfeatureswereirregular;hehadthebiggestandugliestmouthshehadeverseeninaman,"Areyouthenewgardener?"sheasked.

Hegrinnedagain.

"Yes,miss,Iam.NameofStandey,I'mabitnewtothisplace,soyou'llhavetoexcuseme."

Sherememberedthenthattherehadbeennoflowersinthehousefortwoorthreedays,andtoldhim.Therewassomethingabouthimshedidnotlike.Hewasstaringatherwithfrankadmiration.Therewasinhisattitudeaninsolencewhichsheresented.

"Idon'tseewhytheywantflowerswhenyou'rearound,miss,"hesaid,withclumsygallantry."Idon'tthinkIamlikelytogrowanythingasprettyasyou."

She staredathim,open-eyed.Thiswasanewexperience forher, andnot aparticularly pleasant one. "Go up to the house and see the maid," she saidcoldly."Askherwhatflowersshewants."

Hedidnotstir;hestood,leaningonhishoe,hispaleeyesdevouringher.

"I'llbegoinguptogetmyteainaminute—"hebegan.

"Goupnow,"shesaid.andhewentreluctantly.Shetoldherselfitwasthesortofthingshemustexpectiftheyengagedincompetentservants.Themanwasprobablyagardener's labourerwhohad seized theopportunityofpromotinghimselftoapositionwhichhecouldnotadequatelyfill.

Fromthe lawn to theboxhedgewhichsurround thewesternconfinesof theproperty was only a few yards. She was unaware that she had attracted anaudience, andnotuntil shehearda soft laughdid she turn roundquickly. ItwastheyoungmanwhocalledhimselfPeter.

"Whatalad!"saidPeter."Oneoftheoldcavemanschool."

Recovering, from her surprise, she looked at him coldly. "He was veryimpertinent,"shesaid."Thereseemstobeanepidemicofthatsortofthing."

Petergrinned.

"AndIampartofthedisease?"hesaid."YetthelastthingintheworldIwanttobeisimpertinent.Whatishisname?"

Shewaseyeinghimsteadily,andtherewasnoencouragementinherglance.

"I didn't ask him for his card," she said, "and anyway you can't read," sheaddedmaliciously.

Petergrinnedagain.

"Thatwas a little joke. I shouldhave explained it at the time.Allmy jokesrequire an explanatory footnote. As a matter of fact. I am a pretty goodreader."

Shenodded.

"Thereisaboardonthegateyoucamethrough."shesaidsignificantly.

"I know," said Peter. "It says 'Private. Please keep out.' I thought it wasunnecessarily brusque, even rude." For some reason or other she wasexasperated;unreasonably,sheagreedtoherself.

"You'reluckynottohavemetthedog—"shebegan.

"Hewouldhavebeenluckytohavemetme."saidPeterquietly,"Iunderstandyourdogdiedwithdramaticsuddennessafterseeingaghost."

"Whotoldyouthat?"shegasped-

"Je sais tout—French. As a matter of fact, I'm terribly interested in youraffairs,MissHannay.Iknowit'sabominableofme,butIcan'tknowtoomuchaboutyou,andifIcouldonlyhaveatalkwithyoufortenminutes—"

"TheoddthingisthatIdon'twanttotalktoyouevenforoneminute."

She sawhim lookpast her and turnedher head.Standey, the newgardener,wascomingawayfromthehouseandwalkingtowardsher.

"That isn't odd—it's inhuman," said Peter. "You ought to be ashamed ofyourself."

"Isthatallyouhavetosay?"sheaskedstiffly.

"You'vegotaguestcoming,haven'tyou?Hedresses fordinner—oneof theoldAustrianaristocracy."

Shehalfturnedtoleavehim,butitwasnotsoeasy:thetemptationwastogoontalking.

"Thegardener'scomingback.Perhapsyou'dliketoaskhimwhathewearsfordinner."

ShesawPeter'sfacecloud.

"No,Idon'tthinkI'llwaitforyourattractivehenchman,"hesaid."YouandIwillmeetanothertimeperhaps."

"Ihopenot,"shesaid.

Shewasa little startled that the factof thegardener'spresenceshouldmakehimwithdrawwithsuchspeed.WhatinterestdidChesterfordhaveforhim?

Laterintheafternoonshesawhimagain.Atthewesternendoftheproperty,wherethegroundbegantoslopedowntowardstheriver,wasathickbeltofpine trees.Here, evenbeforeMr.Hannayhad improved theproperty,was ablackwoodenhut,whichwasnowused tohouse the lawn-mowerandothergardenimplements.Hewasstandingagainstthis,turningoverwiththetoeofhisshoeabigheapofmouldthatwasstoredthere.Shehesitatedforasecondandthenbeganwalkingtowardshim,butPetersawhercoming,andwhenshehad rounded a big rhododendron bush which for the moment obliterated aviewofthehut,hehaddisappeared.

Hehadbeenverymuchinterestedinthisheapofearthandinthewheeltrackswhichledfromthehut.He'dtriedtoopenthedoor,butitwasfastenedwithastapleandapatentpadlock.

Hewenttothecarhehadparkedinthesideroadanddroveoff.Hisinquiriesthatmorninghadlocatedthecookwhohadrecentlyleft.Shewasstayingwithrelations on the Reading road, a stout, placid woman, who was verydisinclined to discuss her late employer. After a while, however. Peterpersuadedhertotalk.

ShelikedMr.Hannay;shethoughtPatriciawas"asweetyoungthing";butforChesterforditselfshehadlittleuse.

"I don'tmindburglars and tramps." she said. "but itwas these goings on atnight thatworriedme.Howlings and shriekings, and people fighting on thelawn—itgotsobad,sir,thatIcouldn'tsleep?"

She believed in the death watch. The demise of her ownmother had beenforetold. She had heard the tick-tick-tick of this mysterious agent, and apicturefellfromthewallfornoreasonthatwasascertainable.

"Whatothernoisesdidyouhearatnight?"askedPeter.

She had heard a sort of thudding, she said vaguely, as if somebody wasdigging. Then onemorning she had come down into her kitchen and foundthat thedoorhadbeen forced.Therewere signsofmuddy feetonhercleanfloor,Whoeveritwashadleftakeybehind.

"A key?" said Peter quickly. "What sort of a key?" The ex-cook smiledbroadly.

"Wouldyouliketoseeit?"

"Haveyougotit?"askedPetereagerly.

Shehadbrought it awaywithher as a souvenir of her alarming experience.Goingoutof theroom,shecamebackwithanold-fashioned lookingkey inherhand.Ithadrustedbuthadbeenrecentlycleaned.

"Itdidn'tbelongtoanyofourdoors:we'vegotthosepatentlittlelocks—whatdo you call them?—with flat keys. Yale locks. I meant to give it to Mr.Higgins,thenewbutlerwhocamein,butIforgot.

"WouldyoumindifIkeptitforadayortwo?"askedPeter.

Shedemurredatthis.

"Idon'tknowwhetherIoughttodothat.Itmightopensomebody'sdoor,andIshouldfeelresponsible."

Ultimately he persuaded her, and he went back with a clue which, he toldhimself,mightnotbeaclueatall.

Whenhegotback tohis roomheexamined thekeycarefully.Therewasnomaker'snameonthehandle;itwas,infact,thetypeofkeywhichfittedalockwhichwasnotmadenowadays.Thenanideaoccurredtohim,andhesatup.ItwouldfitthekindoflockthatMr.Digginwouldhavechosen.

CHAPTERXI

THEPROFESSORcameover in the afternoon, andPatwas a little startled

whensheheardthattheProfessorwasdressingfordinner.Thiswasunusual:neitherPatnorherfatherdressedexceptwrentheyweregoingout.Shehastilychangedherdresstomatchthesplendouroftheirguest.

Since he had arrived Mr. Herzoff had spent his time making a minuteinspection of every room in the house, includingher own.Hehad followedthis up by a very careful survey of the grounds; but he had nothing new toofferatdinnerintheshapeofasolution.SincePatwasveryhuman.shewaspleasedwith his praise of her dinner.Mr.Herzoffwas themost satisfactoryguest they had had. He liked his room; he thought the view charming. Hispresenceatanyratehadonepleasingresult:nosounddisturbedthestillnessofthehousethatnight,andeventhedeathwatchmaintainedacompletesilence.

PeterDunn spent a long time on the telephone thatmorning; a longer timecommuning with himself. He strolled through the crowded streets ofMaidenhead that morning and stopped before a secondhand book-shopOutsidewereanumberofshelvesonwhichthegemsliteratureofotheragesweredisplayed.Hesawonestoutvolume,readthetitleandgrinned."AdvicetoaYoungLadyofFashion"wasthetitle.Thepricewastwopence.Peterputthe heavy volume under his arm, not knowing exactly how his jest mightdevelop.

Itdevelopedunusually,itturnedout,forthatafternoonbehadasuddenspasmofpanic,andin thecentreof thatpanicaurafloatedthe trimfigureofagirlwho,forsomereasonorother,hadbecomeveryimportanttohim.

Hespenttheafternoonworkingclumsily,andleftjustbeforesunset,withthebulkybook inhispocket.Hewaited tilldarkbeforeheapproachedDiggin'sFolly.Thegaunthousewas anugly smear against the evening skywhenhedrovehiscarintoitsgroundsandcautiouslyapproachedthehouse.

Takingfromhispocket thekeythecookhadgivenhim,heinsertedit in thefatal door. His heart beat a lithe faster when the key turned and the dooropened tohis touch.Thehingesdidnot squeakashehadexpected.Hehadsufficientcuriositytostop,afterhehadstrutthedoor,andexaminethemwithhishand-lamp.Therewasoilthere,recentlyapplied.

Hewaited,straininghisears,buttherewasnosoundexceptthescurryoftinyfeet. Generations of rats had been born and lived in this deserted building.Everystephetooksentsometerrifiedrodenttocover.

He went from room to room on the ground floor and found nothing. Heclimbed the stairs that creaked under him, inspected three small rooms andfoundthemempty.Thedoorofthefourthwaslocked.

From his inside pocket he took a flat leather case, fitted a pick-lock to thehandleandprobedinsidethekeyhole.Presentlythewardshotback;heturnedthehandleandentered.

Somebody had been living here. Therewas a table,with three empty chinajugs and a couple of plates on it. In a cupboard he found two new, emptysuitcases.Continuinghissearch,hemadeastartlingdiscovery.Inacupboard.thelockofwhichhepicked,hefound,wrappedinoilpaper,threeautomaticpistolsofheavycalibre.and,stackednearthem,sixboxesofcartridges.Here-wrappedthepistols,lockedthecupboardandwentoutoftheroom,carefullylockingthedoorbehindhim.Hedidnotgotohiscar,butpushedthroughthehedgewhichseparatedHannay'spropertyfromitsdesolateneighbour.

ThechancesofseeingPatwere,heknew,remote,unlesshewenttothehouseandaskedforher,andthatwastheonethinghedidnotwishtodo.

Ashecamealong the fringeofpineshe thoughthe sawamancrossing thelawntowardsthegate,andhedrewbackundercover.Apparentlyhehadbeenseen, for the man stopped, and Peter sensed rather than saw that he waslookinginhisdirection.

He could see the light in the drawing-room. Evidently dinner had finished.Petersatdownonthestumpofatreeandwaitedpatientlyfordevelopments.

Therewasa feelingof tensionatChesterford thatnight.Theservants felt it.Pathadasenseofforebodingwhichshecouldnotanalyseorunderstand,andwhen Joyce asked if she might stay up in the kitchen with Higgins shepretended shedid not knowwhy the girt should prefer the companyof thatuninspiringmantothecomfortofherownlittleroom.

"Isuppose,"saidtheProfessorwhenthegirlhadgone,"sheisstillshakyoverwhat happened last night—themanwhowalked through her room? By theway,wasthedoorlocked?"

Patnodded.

"Butthewindowopen."

"Itwasmuchtoosmallforanybodytogetoutthatway."saidHannay.

Higginscameinatthatmoment.Helookedalittleperturbed.

"Excuseme,sir,haveyouanotherguestcomingtonight?"

Hannayshookhishead.

"Why?"askedPatquickly.

'There'samanbeenhangingaroundthishouseeversincedark,"saidHiggins."Isawhimslipbackintothewoodwhenhesawme."

"Whenwasthis?"askedHannay.

"Aboutfiveminutesago.AsamatteroffactIthoughtIsawhiminthegardenthismorning,talkingtoyou,miss."

Patfeltherfacegored,andwasfurious.

"Somebody talking to you in the garden this morning?" said Hannay,frowning.

Patnodded.

"Yes,itwasthemanI....hisnameisPeter.Itoldyouabouthim."

Shewasalittleincoherent.

"Butit'sabsurd,Higgins.Hewouldn'tbeheretonight.Whyshouldhebe?"

Shemadeanexcusealittlelaterandwenttoherroom.

Mr.Hannaylookedafterher.

"I'veneverseenPatlikethat."hesaidslowly,butevidentlytheProfessorwasnotinterestedintheunusualbehaviourofMissPatriciaHannay.

Afterthedoorclosedonherhesatforalongtime,hisfinger-tipstogether,hiseyesonthecarpet.

"DoyoumindifIspeakveryplainlytoyou,myfriend?"hesaid.

Mr.Hannaywasquitewillingtoacceptanyamountofplainspeaking.

"You told me"—Herzoff spoke slowly—"that you had an offer to rent thishouse.Whydon'tyoutakeitandgetawayforamonthortwo?"

Hannaybridled.

"Becauseafewsillywomen—"

Herzoffstoppedhimwithagesture.

"Your man Higgins isn't a woman and he's not exactly silly. And I'm ascientist,Mr.Hannay, and I'mnot stupid either. I have toldyoubefore that,whilstI'mwillingtoacceptevidenceorproofofspiritualphenomena,Iamnotbyanymeanssuperstitious.

Suddenlyheraisedhishand.

"Listen!"hewhispered.

Thetick-tick-tickofthedeathwatchwasdistinct,aslow,rhythmicaltapping.Herzoffwenttothewallandlistened.

"It'shere."hesaid.

Hecrossedtheroomandlistenedagainatthepanellingthere.

"It'sherealso,"hesaid.

Thenheturnedandlookedatthestartledhouseholder.

"Thisisnotabeetle,Mr.Hannay,"hesaidslowly,andlookedatthewatchonhiswrist,"It'sjustaboutnowthatoneshouldhearit."

Hannayswallowedsomething.

"Whatdoyoumean?"heaskedshakily.

Herzoffcomehack,pulledupachairtotheroundtablethatwasinthecentreoftheroomandsatdown.

"Doyou remember—or, if youdon't remember, you'vepossiblyheard—thattherewasamurdercommittedontheadjoiningproperty?"

Hannaynodded,

"SinceyouspoketomeIhavebeenmakinginquiries,andthegeneralopinionseemstobethatthiswretchedwomanwasnotmurderedwhereherbodywasfound, but somewhere here, and to that murder I ascribe all these peculiarphenomenawhichyouhavewitnessedorheardabout."

Hannayfeltacoldchillcreepingdownhisspine.Yetitwashot,somuchsothatitwasnecessarytowipehisforeheadofthemoisturewhichhadsuddenlycomethere.

The Professor took a little package of papers from his pocket and openedthem.Theyweretypewritten.

"I'll give you all the facts of the case," he began. "I took some trouble tocollectthem...."

UpstairsinherroomPathadwrittenhersecondletter.Herlittledeskwasnearthewindow, overlooking the garden. The desk itselfwas placed in a set ofbookshelvesthatcoveredonesideofthewallfromthewindowtothedoor.

Shehadblottedtheaddresswhentherattleofstonesagainstherwindowmadeher jump.Foramomentshewastooterrifiedtoact, then,drawingaside thecurtains, she pushed open the window. Beneath her she saw a figure, notdifficulttorecognise.

"Howdareyoudothat!"shesaidunsteadily."Ifyoudon'tgoawayI'llcallmyfather."

"Iwanttoseeyou,"saidPeterearnestly."It'sterriblyimportant."

Shewaslessfrightenednow.

"Goaway."shecommandedangrily,"orI'll'phonethepolice."

ShedidnotseePetersmile.

"I'm afraid you'll find the wires are disconnected. I've a little instrumenthere"—hetooksomethingfromhispocketthatlookedlikeawatch—"andI'vetakenthetroubletomakeafewtests,"

ItwasallGreektoher.

"Whatdoyouwant?"

"Iwanttotalktoyou.Willyoucomedown?"

Sheshookherhead.

"Thenletmecomeup.IswearIwon'thurtyouoroffendyouinanyway."

"Don'theridiculous."

Shethoughtforamoment,then:

"Gotothefrontdoorandknock,andI'llcomedownandseeyouinthedining-room."

"No,thankyou,"saidPeterwiththeutmostpoliteness."Inevermeetladiesindining-rooms:itspoilstheromance,Letmecomeup."

Thensheremembered.

"Whotoldyouthewireswerecut?"

"Ididn'tsay'cut'.Isaid'disconnected'.Letmecomeup,onlyforasecond."

Without waiting, for her permission he jumped up on to the window-sillbelow,caughta stout tendrilofavine that ranupbyherwindow,anddrewhimselfbreasthigh,hiselbowonthesill.Shesteppedbackandstaredathim.

She had a wild inclination to push him from his insecure foothold, for shesupposedthathisfeetwererestingonsomething.

"Firstofall,letmegiveyouthis."

Heluggedfromhispocketabook.Fromwherehewashecouldjustreachthebookshelf.and,bybracinghisfeetinaforkofthevine,couldgivehimselfthenecessarypurchase.Hethrustthebookintoavacantplaceontheshelf.

"Now listen. and don't interrupt." said Peter dictatorially. "I'm putting thatbooktherebecauseyoumaybeinsomedanger.Iwantyoutogivemeyourwordofhonourthatyouwon'ttouchIt—untilthereisurgentneed,"

Shewasstaggeredbytherequest.

"Isthisyourideaofajoke—"

"It's no joke," said Peter. "The title's a joke—it's called 'Advice to aYoungLadyofFashion'—Godknowsyouwantnoadvice!Youmustpromisemeyouwon'ttellyourfatheroranybodyelsethatIgaveittoyou."

She looked at the dingy cover. Even at the distance atwhich she stood shecoulddecipherthefadedredtitle."Whatisit?"

She reached out her hand for it, but he stopped her. "Word of honour?" hedemandedsternly,andmeeklysherepeatedthewords.

Peterlistened.

"Do you want to know why I'm hanging round and why I forced myacquaintanceonyouthismorning?Oh,yes.Ididitdeliberately.Icouldeasilyhaveavoidedyou.Iwasgoingtoslowthecar,whenIsawitwasyou."

"Whyareyouhere?"askedPat,andPeterDunn'sfacebecamesuddenlystern.

"I'mheretoclearthereputationofthebestmanthateverlived."hesaid,andinanothersecondhehaddisappeared.

Site looked down. but he was not in sight. and she stood, puzzled andbewildered,untilsheheardasoundthatnudeherbloodturntoice.

CHAPTERXII

THEPROFESSORwasnearingtheendofhisnarrative."Theyweretrampsto

the world, but they had known one another many years before, in happiercircumstances."He had amajestic delivery; gave to themost commonplacestorythedignityofhistory.

"Bothhaddeterioratedthroughtheyears.andhewasabrute.morelikeabeastthanaman.Thenoneday,whentheyhadtouchedthelowestdepths,theymetin thisneighbourhood.Themurderwascommitted—hisvoicewasslowandimpressive—"inthatwoodenhutontheedgeofyourgrounds.Awitnessheardthe sobbing of the woman. saw the door of the hut open slowly, and themurderercomeout."

Hestoppedforamoment.

"Andthatiswhathasbeenseensince."

Mr.Hannayshivered.

"Idon'tbelieveit."hebegan.

"Thatismytheory."saidtheProfessor."Shewasinthehutwhenhefoundher.Thesoundyouhearisnotthetappingofaninsect,itisthetappingonthedoorofthehutwhenthemurderersoughtadmission."

Hiseyessuddenlytravelledtothedoorofthelibrary."Look!"hesaidhuskily.

Thedoorwasajar,openingslowly,withoutanyhumanagency.

Hannaystartedtohisfeet;hislegsgavewayunderhim,butwithanefforthebracedhimselfandrantotheopendoor.Therewasnobodythere.

"Whoisit?"heaskedhoarsely.

Fromthedarkpassagecamethesoundofawomansobbing,andthenabestialscreamthatsenthimreelingback.

Pathearditandcameflyingdownthestairs.Shesawherfatherstandingattheopendoorofthelibrary,transfixed,hisfacepale,hismouthopenludicrously."Whatisit?"sheasked.

"Didyouhearanything?"demandedHannayshakily."'Thisisthefinish,Pat....we'llgetoutofthishousetomorrow."

TheProfessornoddedslowly.

"Thatisthewisestdecisionyouhaveevermade,Mr.Hannay."hesaid.

Morning brought a blue sky and a flood of sunlight, and Mr. Hannayweakenedonhis resolution.Hecame intoPat's littlesitting-roomto talk the

matteroverwithher.

"Idon'tknowthatI'msokeentoleavethisplace,"hesaid."Infact,darling,Ifeel I'm—um—running away from—not exactly danger, but the threat ofdanger.AndweHannays—"

For some reasonPatdidnot feel annoyedwithhim.Shehad somesenseofprotectionwhichshecouldnotdefineorexplain.

Mr.Hannay,wandering about the room. his hands in. his pockets. suddenlysawanewtitleonthebookshelf,"What'sthis?"

Hestretchedouthishand.Pathastilyintervened."'AdvicetoaYoungLadyofFashion'.That'sanoldthing,isn'tit?Whoistheauthor?"

"Idon'tknowwho theauthor is,"saidPat rapidly."onlyIdon'twantyou totouchit.Itbelongstoafriendofmine."

Helookedathersuspiciously.

"Itisn'toneofthoseneurotic—"

"Don'tbestupid,darling.Itbelongstoafriendofmine.andthatissufficient."

She asked herself, after he had left, why she had made such a scene, andexactlyhowimportantthewishesofthemancalledPeterweretoher.

TheProfessorcamedowntobreakfastwiththem,butheardofMr.Hannay'sdecision for the first time that afternoon. Pat found him walking about thegroundsonher return fromMaidenhead.where shehaddrivenMr.Hannay,whobankedinthattown.

"Areyouadmiringmycarorourgarage?"askedPat.

Herzoffturnedquicklyandsmiled.

"Ididn'tknowyouwereback.Well,hasyourfatherletthehouse?"

Sheshookherhead.

"No,"shesaidquietly."Ihavepersuadedhimtostayon."

Hewastakenabackbythis.

"Doyouknowthestoryofthisplace",

Shenodded.

"DaddytoldmeonourwayintoMaidenhead."

"Andyoustillwishtostay?"

"Istillwishtostay,"shesaid.

She felt a sudden antagonism towards this man, an antagonism which wasunreasonableandunfounded.

Herzoffchuckled.

"You'reaverybravegirl."hesaid. "Iadmireyou for it,but Ihopeyouwillpersuadeyour father togetout.Youmay laughatme for a foolish,middle-agedmanwithillusions,butIampsychometric,andIhaveafeelingthatthishouseatthemomentisaplaceofdoomforallofyou."

"That's exactly the kind of house I like to live in," said Pat, with suddenrecklessness.

On herway back to the house she passed the gardener.He straightened hisbackasshecamenearhim,andtoherindignationandamazementhailedher.

"Hullo,younglady!Havingachatwiththeprofessor?He'saswellfellow!Buthe'snotmuchbetterthanme."

Then, to her horror, he put out his big paw and caught her under the chin,liftingupherhead,Shewasparalysedwith fury.Then she struckat thebighandandwentrunningtowardsthehouse.

Herzoffhadbeenawitnessof thescene.Hecameslowlyacross thegarden.He was paring his nails with a small penknife, apparently intent upon hisoccupation, and he did not lift his eyes until he came face to facewith thegardener.

"Don'tdothat,"hesaidgently.

"Dowhat?"growledthebigman.

"Don'ttouchthatyounglady."

Twice Herzoff's hand came up and down, and the gardener's cheeks wentsuddenly red and wet. The man uttered a roar and put up his hand to hisslashedface.

"Don'tdothat."

Therewasawhimperinhisfacethatwasabsurdinsobigaman.

"Therewasnocauseforthat."

"Don'tinterferewiththatyounglady.Goandwashyourface,Mr.Higginswillgiveyoualittlestickingplaster."

Patcamebreathlessly into thekitchen.Mr.Higginswasputtingglassesonatray,andlookedroundatherinsurprise.

"Higgins,"saidPatbreathlessly,"whoisthisnewgardener?"

"Idon'tknowmuchabouthim,miss,butI'mtoldhe'saveryrespectablechap—"

"Well.dischargehimatonce."shesaid.

"Why,miss,I'msorrytohearyousaythat.He'snotverypresentable,butfacesdon'tmeananything—that'smyexperience."

"It'sdreadfulthatwe'vegottohavemenlikethataboutthehouse,"saidPat,asshemadeforthedoorofthedining-room.

Higginsshookhisheadsadly.

"Well, miss, you can't get people to stay in a house that's supernatural.PersonallyIdon'tmind,thoughitgetsmeworriedattimes."

SuddenlyPatrememberedsomething.

"Wherehashebeensleeping—thisgardener?"Higginshesitated.

"Inthecellar,miss,buthewon'tsleeptherenowbecauseofthenoises."

"Haveyouthekey?"

Sheputoutherhandforit,andHigginstookitfromhispocket.

"Iwouldn'tgodownthereifIwereyou,miss."

"Idon'twant togodown,"shesaidsharply,"Iwant to lock thedoorso thatnobodyelsecangodown,"

She tried thedoor: itwasalready fastened, and she slipped thekey intoherbag.

"Thatmandoesn'tsleepinthishousetonight—understandthat,"shesaid.

"Verygood,miss."saidHiggins,alittlehurt.

ShesawHerzoffasshepassedthroughthebreakfastroom.

"Thatmanwillnotannoyyouagain,MissPat."

"Idon'tthinkhewill,"saidPat."I'vetoldHigginstogetridofhim."

Hislipspursed.

"Iassureyouhe'sbeenpunishedenough—"hebegan.

"And I assureyou,ProfessorHerzoff, that hewill leaveChesterford today,"saidPat.

Therehadbeenanotherwitnessoftheincidentinthegarden.PeterDunnhadfoundanewpointofvantage:abranchofatreethatoverhungthelittleprivateroadwhichwasMr.Hannay'sveryown.Sosituated,hecouldnotgetdowntodealwiththeloutishgardener,buthehadwatchedwithsomesatisfactionandastonishmentProfessorHerzoff's summaryadministrationof justice.He sawthegirl andHerzoffgo into thehouse, andwaited.All thatmorninghehadbeenhopingtomeether,andhadhiscarconvenientlyparkedsothathemightfollowandovertakeherifshecameout.Andnow,whenhisownmachinewasaquarterofamileaway,it lookedasifhewastobebaffled,forhesawhercrossthelawntowardsthegarage,drawingonhergloves.Therewasnotimeforhimtogethiscar.

Presentlyshecameout,sweptroundthenarrowdrivenearthegarageintotheroadoverwhichhewassitting.Shewasgoingslowly,whichinameasurewasanactofprovidence, forwhenhecalledherbyname ina loudwhispershestopped the car and looked round, and, happily, stopped it right under theboughwherehewas sitting.Sheheard the thudashe struck the seatbesideher,andlookedroundinamazement,

"Wheredidyoucomefrom—"shebegan.

" 'Babydear', youought to say." saidPeter. "Andmyanswer is. 'Outof theeverywhereintohere'."

"Whatareyoudoinghere?"shedemanded.

"Going for a ride," said Peter. "InAmerica all the best gangsters take theirfriendsforaride."

"I'mnotagangsterandyou'renotmyfriend."

"Don'targue."saidPeterDunn."Yourfatherwillcomealoneinaminutesadhe'llaskmemyintentions.Thinkhowembarrassingthatwillbe."

Sitesentthecaralongwithajerk.

"You'rearottenhaddriver.butyou'llimprovewithpractice."

"Whyarethoseglassesroundyourneck?"sheasked.

Heworeapairoffieldglassessuspendedbyastrap.

"Thebettertoseeyouwith,mydear."And,whensheshotanindignantglanceathim:"AquotationfromRedRidingHood,"hesaidgently."Thoseglassesareforspyingpurpose.I'vebeenspyingonyou."

Shereachedthesecondaryroadandstoppedthecar.

"I'vedroppedmyhandkerchief.Willyougetout?"

Petershookhisheadwithgreatcalmness.

"That'sadirtytricktogetmeout."

"Idon'twantyouhere."shesaid.

Peternodded.

"Iknowthat.Ifyoudidthewholethingwouldbesimple.Ishouldgototheregistrarandgetalicence."

Shegasped.

"Haveyouanysenseofdecency?"shedemanded.

Peternodded.

"Yes;thatiswhyIshouldgetalicencefirst."

Againshestoppedthecar.

"Getout,"shesaidfirmly,andthistimeshemeantit.

Peterobeyed.Shedidnotdriveon.

"Iwanttoaskyouonequestion.Willyoutellmewhatisyournameandwhyyou are here. Probably there is some special reason why it should be keptsecret,andifthereisIpromiseyouIwilltellnobody."

"My name is Peter Dunn." he said, after a moment's consideration. "Untilyesterday I was a sergeant in the Criminal Investigation Department ofScotlandYard."

Hesawhermouthandeyesopen.

"Aren'tyouanymore?"sheasked.

"No, I'm an inspector. Iwas promoted thismorning.They telephonedme—thatiswhymymannererrsonthesideoffrivolity."

Therewasalongsilence.

"Whydoyoucomehere?WhatisthereforaScotlandYardofficer....?"

"A lot of things.But I'll tell you themain thing that is keepingmehangingaround here andmakingme keep this case all tomyself. I have a personalinterest in it—twopersonal interests: one, the reputation of a dear friend ofminewhoisdead."

"Andtheother?"sheasked,whenhestopped.

"Theother isyou."hesaidsimply."I'm terriblysorry,but I've fallen in lovewithyou."

Hiseyes lookedatherstraightly.Hewas telling the truth.Shewent redandwhite.andthen:

"I'msorry,"shesaid.

"Areyoutellingthetruthoralie?"hedemanded,theoldsmileinhiseyes.

"I'm telling a lie," she said, and sent the car forward in six distinctunworkmanlikejumps.

Peterwaswalkingbackthewayhehadcomewhenheheardthehornofacarbehindhim,butdidnotturnroundtillshecameabreastofhim.

"I'lldriveyouback,"shesaid.

"No,thankyou,"saidPetersimply."I'dratherwalk."

Shelookedathimwithdisapproval.

"It'saverylongway—"shebegan,

"Youdon'tknowwhereI'mgoing,soyoucan'tsayit'salongwayorashortway."

"Idon'tlikeyourmanners."

"I've taken prizes for them," said Peter. "For thematter of that, I don't likeyourcar.You'vehumiliatedme."

Shestaredathim.

"Humiliatedyou?How?"

"I'vetoldyouIloveyou,andyouhaven'thadthedecencytofalloutofthecarintomyarms."

Shebroughtthecartoashudderingstop.

"Comehere."shesaid.Youcankissme—once."

Hekissedheronce,butitwasalongonce....

PatHannaycamebacktothehouse.Therewasalookinhereyesthatawisewoman could have interpreted. But there was nobody in Chesterford wiserthanJoyce,themaid,andsheatthemomentwaspreoccupied.

Patwentuptoherroom,closedthedoor,tookoffhercoatandlookedintheglass.Thereweresomethingswhichcouldnotbebelieved.Somesuchthinghad happened that day, and she could only look at herself in wonder. Shefound a difficulty in breathing normally, and the hands that tidied her hairwereshaking,

She lookedoutof thewindow,hoping thatby somemiraclehewouldbe insight....

Therewashisbook,Shereachedouttotakeit,butrememberedherpromiseanddrewback.

Adetectiveofficer....apoliceman....howwouldMr.Hannay,somebodyveryimportant"inthedrapery",acceptthatdevastatingfact?

Mr. Hannay had ideas for her; looked as high as the House of Lords: hadconfided to her his desire to found a lordly linewith such assistance as shecouldoffer.

Apoliceman.... that puzzledher.Shewent down to the library to find somesortofreferencebook,havingavagueideathatshecoulddiscoverthebriefestbiographyofthemanwhohadkissedheronce.ForthetimebeingChesterfordanditshorriblesecretrecededintothebackground.

Themiracledidnothappen;therewasnohookmorecommunicativethananannualalmanacwhichgaveher thenamesanddivisionsof some thirteenorfourteen superintendents, but omitted anymention of Inspector PeterDunn,whoyesterdaywassergeant.

Betweenthenanddinner-timesitewrotehimadozenletters,allverycarefullyconsidered, all finishingon the first or secondpage.Onewas toodignified,another too friendly. She ran the gamut of emotions, doubts and hopesappropriate to the occasion.Happily, she had secured temporary help in the

shapeofacookwhohadcomeontheconditionthatsheleftthehousebeforenightfall.

Chesterfordwas beginning to gain unenviable notoriety, andPat had almostfallenonthestoutlady'sneck.

Shehadseennomoreofthegardener,and,whenshequestionedHiggins,hetold her that theman had been paid off and had gone, and shewas a littlerelieved.

When her delirium had a little subsided, and she came to take stock of herroom—itwaswhenshebegantodress—shebecameawarethatsomebodyhadmade a very careful search of the apartment. The bureau drawerwhere shekeptherhandkerchiefswasamuddleandaconfusionwhensheopenedit.Thedrawers of her desk had also been disturbed. Suddenly she remembered thekeyofthecellar,whichshehadputawayinapigeon-holebehindasmalltableclock. The clock was there, but it had been moved. The pigeon-hole wasempty.

Shefinisheddressingandwentdowntodinner,butmadenoreferencetothematteruntiltheywereinthedrawing-roomandcoffeehadbeenserved.

"Haveyoubeentomyroom,daddy?"sheasked."Somebodyhasbeenthere,pulledoutthedrawers,openedmybureauandsearchedmydesk."

Herzofflookedupquicklyfromhiscoffee.

"Haveyoumissedanything?"heasked.

"Thekeyofthecellar,"saidPat."ItookitfromHigginsthisafternoon."

Hannayhadsuddenlyanidea.

"Iwonderifitwasthatfellow—themanwhoisalwayswanderingaboutthisplace—thatyoungperson.Whatdidyoucallhim—?"

"Peter?"saidPatincredulously."Don'tbestupid,daddy,Whyshouldhe—?"

Mr.Herzoffinterrupted.

"Peter!Whatishisothername,doyouknow?"

"PeterDunn,"shesaid,andshesawtheProfessor'smouthopenandcloseandhislipsdrawin.

"PeterDunn!"he repeated. "That's interesting.Youknowhim,doyou,MissHannay—aScotlandYardman?"

"Hey?" Hannay was suddenly alert. "A Scotland Yard officer? What thedickensishedoinghere?"

Patrosetothemomentheroically.

"Heismyfiancé,"shesaid,andthetwomenweredumb-stricken.

"Fiancé?" Mr. Hannay squeaked the word. "A policeman? Are you mad,Patricia?"

"I'mnotmad."saidPatricia."I'mjusttellingyouasafact.HehasaskedmetomarryhimandI'mgoingto."

Shedidnotwait to see theeffectofherpronouncement,butwentup toherroom.ShehadanuncannyfeelingthatPeterDunnwasnear.Beforeshepulledthecurtainsandopenedthewindowsheextinguishedthelight.Herheartleaptas she distinguished a figure standing on the edge of the grass beneath herwindow.

"Isthatyou?"shewhispered.

"That'sme,"saidPeterDunn."Iheardyou!"

Herheartsank.

"Heardwhat?"

"IheardyoutellingyourparentsthatI'daskedyoutomarryme,whichwasn'ttrue.Ihaven'taskedyoutomarryme.Imerelymadelovetoyou."

"Thatamountstothesamethingincivilisedcommunities,"shesaidcoldly.

Sheoughttohavebeenfuriouswithhim,shetoldherself,butshedidnotfeelfurious.ShehadfalleninstinctivelyintoPeter'speculiarhabitofthoughtandspeech.

''I'mgoingtomarryyou,anyway,"saidPeter."Idecidedthatalongtimeago."

Shespoketohimagain,buthadnoanswer.Whenshelookedouthehadgone.She thought she saw him in the shadow of a bush which grew against thehouse.Then sheheard the crunchof heavy feet crossing thegravelledpath.Shecouldnotseewhoitwas,buthecamenearer,andthenherheartjumped.It was the gardener, the man Higgins said had gone, and he was comingdirectlytowardsherwindow.

Shedrewaside,peeringroundtheedgeofthewindowsash,andsawhimhaltonthelawnabouthalfadozenyardsaway.Hewassmokingacigar;shesaw

theredglowofitashetookitoutofhismouth.

"Areyouupthere.miss?"heaskedinacroakingwhisper.

Shedidnotanswer.Evidentlyhehadheardhervoiceandhadcomeacrosstoinvestigate.Whatwashedoingthere?IfHigginshadspokenthetruthbehadno right tobe in thegroundsofChesterford.Perhapshehadcomeback forsomethinghehadleftbehind.Shefoundadozenuneasyexplanations,andwasrelievedwhenheturnedandwalkedbackthewayhehadcome,presentlytobeswallowedinthedarkness.

"Yourvoicecarriestoofar,younglady."ItwasPeter'ssibilantwhisper."Thatwasanarrowsqueak,"

"Formeoryou?"

"Forme—thereforeforyou."saidPeter."Twoguns,eh?"

"Whatdoyoumean?"sheasked,bewildered.

"One on each hip—I saw them.Now go in, shut thewindow and draw theblinds.anddon'tputonyourlight."

Shesatinthedarknessforalongtime.Thensheheardasoundthatbroughtherheart tohermouth.A ladderwasbeingput againstherwindow.She satandquaked.Shehad fastened the casement.Shedarednot look. andonly ashadow, which almost seemed imaginary, showed on the curtain. Then sheheardasoft,thuddingsound,asthoughsomebodywashittingapieceofironwithahammerwhichhadbeencarefullymuffled.

Her first thoughtwas to flydownstairs,but terrorheldher,and inher terrorwasthatcuriositywhichisnaturalinahealthygirl.

After tenminutes thehammering stopped.Sheheard the raspof feeton therungs of the ladder, and the scrape of it as it was taken away. She wentcarefully to the window, drew the curtain aside a fraction of an inch andlookedout.Shecouldjustseetheman....itwasthegardener!

Then she sawwhathehadbeendoing.Acrossherwindowstretched, in theshapeofaSt.Andrew'scross, twosteel rods.Theyhad thiseffect, that theymadeitimpossibleforthewindowtoopen.

Peterhadseenthemanoeuvre,watchingatarespectfuldistance.HewaitedtillStandeyhadcarriedtheladderbacktoabiggreenhouse,thenhecreptforwardandsawtheworkhehadbeendoing.

Somethingprettybadwasgoingtohappentonight.Hewonderedjustwhatit

wouldbe.

Hehadalotofworktodo,andhehadalreadylostaconsiderableamountoftime. He got back to the hut in the wood, fitted a jemmy together andwrenchedoffthestaplewhichheldthedoor.

Hewasnotunpreparedforwhathesaw:ayawningholeinthemiddleofthehut,roughlysupportedbytreetrunksthatmusthavebeencutforthepurpose.A homemade ladder led to the depths. He went down quickly. reached thebottom,andsawtheblackmouthofatunnel.

Thefloorwasofrockandascended:butthegoingwasdangerous.Attheverystirofhisfeetgreatlumpsofearthfellfromtheroof,andhewasgladtogetbacktotheladderandtheouterair.

Hereachedthelittlelaneandwentonfootforahundredyards.Nearwherehehadparkedhiscarfourmenwerewaitingforhim.

"Well,Peter,haveyoufoundanything?"

Itwas the voice of his chief inspector, andwith himwere anotherScotlandYardmanandtwoheadsoftheBerkshirepolice.

"Thewholegangishere,"reportedPeter."LeeSmitt,RedFandersonandJoeKelly. Smitt is posing as a professor with a knowledge of the occult. Thecurious thing is that he's been amember of this golf club for about twentyyears.Hehasprobablyvisitedthecountrybefore,andIshouldn'thesurprisedto find that he's a member of some of the most exclusive clubs in town.Fanderson's been working as a gardener—I believe he did some gardeningwhenhewasinDartmoor—andJoeKellyisbackathisoldjob—butler-valet,withthegrandoldnameofHiggins."

"We can pinch 'em," said his chief thoughtfully. "and charge 'em withreturningtothecountryafterbeingdeported—"

"I'mnotheretopinch'emforbeingdeported."saidPeteralmostsavagely."I'mhere towipeout the lie thatputSamAllerway intoa suicide'sgrave.That'shighlydramatic,butit'shighlysincere.Ifyoupinchedthemnowyouwouldn'tget the stuff. Eight hundred and thirty thousand Canadian dollars, all lyingsnug."

"Where?"askedoneoftheBerkshirechiefs.

"InHannay'shouse."

"I don't see how it can be inHannay's house," said one of themen. "Why

shouldtheyhaveputitthere?"

"I'lltellyouwhylater."

"How did you stumble on this, Peter? When you 'phoned me yesterday Ithoughtyou'dgonecrazy."

PeterDunn told the story of the nightwhen the little cruiserwas tied up toHannay'sland.

"Itwasjustaghoststorytoldbyanhystericalmaid,"besaid,"untilthebutlercame down to return the rug. Themoment I heard his voice I knew itwasKelly.I'dhearditincourt—therewasnomistakingit.IidentifiedthegardenerandLeeSwillthenextday.They'vegotnerve,butthey'redesperate.ThereareeighthundredandthirtythousandCanadiandollars,andthat'salotofdollars."

"WhyshoulditbeinHannay'shouse?"Thequestionwasaskedagain.

"I'lltellyouallaboutthatoneofthesedays."saidPeter."I'mgoingbacknow.Whateverisgoingtohappenwillhappentonight.Iwantthehouseclosedonallsides,includingtheriver."

"TheBuckspolicearesendingamotor-boatpatrol,"saidoneoftheBerkshiremen. "I've got fifty plain-clothes officers within half a mile.When do youthinkyou'llwantus.andhowarewetoknow?"

PeterDunn explained his plan of operations: but, likemany other carefullymadeplans,itwasdoomedtofailure.HappilyhedidnotknowthisashewentbackquicklytowardsChesterfordanditsstrangeguests.

CHAPTERXIII

WHENPatwent back to the drawing-room she sawHerzoff shoot a quick,penetratingglanceinherdirection,thenhiseyesdropped.Sherealisedhehadseen that something had happened. She caught a glimpse of her face in amirror:itwasalightwithexcitement.

Therewasdanger,here:sheknewit.AndPeterDunnwasathand.Thatgavethedangerabeautifulrelish.Herfatherwasreading.Mr.Herzoffwasworkingout a patience puzzle. SuddenlyHannay put down his book. I think I'll getanotherdog,"hesaid."Idon't liketheideaofyour—"—hemadeawryface—"fiancé—thatwasajokeintheworstpossibletaste,Pat—wanderingaboutChesterford.Itdoesn'tamusemeatall."

"Whatareyoureading.daddy?"

"Oneof theFamousTrials series. Imust say it doesn't seem an appropriatebooktobereadinginthecircumstances."

Herzofflookedupcalmly.

"Whatisitcalled?"

Heknewwellenoughwhatthetitlewas;hehadseenit."It'sthetrialofthosethree fellowswho robbed theCanadianBank ofCommerce about ten yearsago,"saidMr.Hannay."Isupposetheygotawaywiththemoney."

"I'veforgottenwhatitwasallabout."

Herzoffwentondealingoutthecardscalmlyandsystematically.

"ByJove!"Mr.Hannaywasstruckwiththebrillianceofthethought."There'sabighaulforsomebody.Theygottwelveyears.Isupposethey'reoutbynow."

"Theyweredeported,"saidPat."Ireaditinthenewspapers."

Patsuddenlyliftedherhead.

"Whatwasthat?"

Itwasthesoundofmoaning,anditcamefromthewindow.Patsetherteeth,went across and pulled hack the curtains with a jerk. She almost swooned.Framedinthewindowwasthefaceofawoman,hideous,white,streakedwithwetred.Heruntidygreyhairwasfallingoverherforehead.

Withascreamthegirlsnatchedthecurtainbackagainandranblindlybacktoherfather.Hehadseenit,too.

"Thetrampwoman,"saidHerzoffinalowtone."ThatisamanifestationIdidnotexpecttosee."

Hespunround.Fromsomewhereoutsidecamethesoundofastruggle.Therewasacrashagainstthedoorthatledontotheveranda,andthenasinglepistolshotrangout.

ItwasHannaywhoopenedthedoor,andPeterDunnstaggeredin.Therewasastreakofbloodonhisforehead;inhishandwasanautomatic.Heclosedthedoorquickly,turnedthekey,andforasecondstoodwithhisbacktothedoor,eyeingtwopeoplewhowereamazedtoseehimandonewhohadmurderinhisheart.

Peterstaggeredacrosstothetableandliftedthetelephone.

"Dead,eh?Telephonesdon'thaveghosts,Mr.Herzoff,dothey?"

Herzoffdidnotreply.

Patwasbyhisside.

"You'rehurt!"shemidtremulously.

"Takemyhandkerchief—it'sinmypocket,"saidPeter."It'sallright,itmighthavebeenworse."

"I'llgetsomewaterforyou."

ItwasHerzoffwhomadethisgesture.

"Yes,butdon'ttroubletogetapriest;I'mnotdeadyet,Herzoff."

He watched the man leave the room, then he lugged out of his pocket aclumsy-lookingpistol.

"Doyoumindtakingthisoutontoyourlawnand

shootingitintheair?It'snothingmoredeadlythanaVereylight,andIthinkyoucangowithsafety."

Heturnedtothegirl.

"Haveyoulostthekeyofyourcellar?"

Shenodded.Shewasnotevensurprised thatheasked thequestion.BynowPeterDunnwastheembodimentofallknowledgeandunderstanding.

"Ithoughtitmightbethecase.Willyougetmesomewater?"

Sheranintothedining-roomandcamebackwithaglassful.

"Thankyou,darling."

Mr.Hannaywinced.

Peterdranktheglassfulatagulp,andthen,takingthegirl'sfaceinhishands,hekissedher.Mr.Hannaywaspetrified.

"Whatthedevildoyoumeanbythat?"hestormed.

"Hemeanttokissmebythat,"saidPatquietly,

"Didn'tyou?"

"Delightful,"saidavoicefromthedoorway.

ItwasHerzoff.

"Youcanliedowninmyroomifyouwish,Mr.Dunn,"hesaid.

Hewalkedtowardshimleisurely,hishandsinhispockets.

"I'mafraidyouleftanunpleasantstainonthatdoor."

Peterturnedhishead.Hedidnotfeelthelifepreserverthathithim.

"Don'tmove,anddon'tscream.eitherofyou!"snarledHerzoff."AndputthatVereydown,Hannay."

"What—"beganMr.Hannay.

"Anddon'taskquestions.Comein,youboys."

Thebiggardenerandthebutlercamein.

"Takehimuptomyroomandtiehimup.Asforyou,younglady,youcangotoyourroomforthemoment.

WhenIwantyouI'llcomeforyou. Ifyouscreamor try toattractattention,you'llwishyouhadn't."

Shewalkedpasthim,almostovertook themenas they turned intoHerzoff'sroom, and presently reached her own. She slammed the door and locked it.She was dazed. Such things could not happen in England, she told herselfagainandagain.Shewashavingabaddream,andpresentlywouldwakeup.

Mr.Hannayhadsubmittedtobeingboundtoachair.Tohimtheworld'sendhadcome.Herehewas,inhisowndrawing-room.beingscientificallytiedbyamanwhomhehadregardedas....Itwasunbelievable.

"IfI'dknownwhoyouwere—"hesaidhuskily.

Herzoffsmiled.

"That's rather a foolish remark.After all. I've laidyourghosts:youowemesomethingforthat.Ifyou'dacceptedthehandsomeofferImadetoyouwhenIwanted to rent the house, youwould not havebeen troubled.Unfortunately,youverystupidlyignoredthatoffer,andIhadtofrightenyou—andyouhadn'tsufficientsensetobefrightened."

He lefthishostandwentup thestairs twoata time tohisownroom.Peterwaslyingonthebed.fastenedhandandfoot.Helookedathimforamoment,thenwentontoPat'sroom.

"Patricia!"hewiledsoftly."It'sMr.Herzoffspeaking."Shedidnotanswer.Heknewshehadheard.

"Iamtheonlypersonwhocangetyououtofthishousealive,"hesaid."Takeachancewithme,andI'llkeeptheothersoff."

"I'dsoonerdie!"

Heheardandsmiled.

"Soonerhavemygorilla,wouldyou?Well,maybeyoucanhavehim.Idon'tknow why Red has taken such a fancy to you, but women have been hisweakness all his life.... I'm giving you a chance—do a little forgetting andcomewithme."

Againhewaitedforareply,butnonecame.

"Youdon'tsupposeanybody'sgettingoutofthishousetotellthepolicewhowe are, do you? A great chance they've got! I'm 'phoning to a Londonnewspaper tonight, telling them that you and your father have left for theContinent.Thinkthatover—itmeanssomething....itmeansthatyouwillnotbefoundforalongtimeafterI'veleftEngland."

Whenhegotbacktohisownroomheinterruptedaflowofinvectivefromthegardener.

"Thatfellowtookashotatme!"growledRedFanderson."

"Ifyou'dbeendoingyourjobyouwouldn'thavebeenthere."saidHerzoff,andpulledupachairtothesideofthebed."Well.Mr.PeterDunn?"

"You'llgobackforlifeforthis,"saidPeterbetweenhisteeth.

Herzoffwasamused.

"Whydidn'tyoukeepoutofit?You'venotbeendetailed:youtookthejobonasaholidaytask,Iunderstand.Whatdoyouwant?"

"Iwant themoney you stole from theCanadianBank ofCommerce. and aportionofwhichyoumade the judgebelieveSamAllerwayhad taken.Themoney'sinthishouse,underHannay'scellar.Youcacheditherebyaccident.Theotherhousebelongstoyou,doesn'tit?"

Hesawtheman'sexpressionchangeandchuckled.

"Got it first time! You bought the other house before you committed therobbery.Iwascheckingupthedates.ThenightyougotawayfromLondonin

thatsecondhandcar,you intendedcominghere tohide it in thecellarof thehouseyou'dbought:butinthedarkyouwenttothewronghouse.Theybothlooked alike in the days before Hannay started building—and one of youpickedthewronghouse,gotintoitandburiedyourstuffunderthecellar,andwhen you came out of quad you couldn't get it.You tried to build a tunnelfromthegardener'shut,butthebedrockwastoonearthesurface."

"Webuilt the tunnel all right." growledLeeSmitt, andhewas speaking thetruth.

Peterwasmomentarilysurprised.

Hesawsomebodystandinginthedoorway,watchinghim.Heliftedhiseyesand smiled at the hideous womanwhose appearance at the window had sobadlyfrightenedPat.Beforeshepulledoffhertousledwigandbeganwipingthemake-upfromherfaceherecognisedtheprettyJoyce.

"Youmightintroducemetoyourdaughter,Smitt.Shehasn'tbeenthroughmyhands—yet."

ButLeeSmitthadothermatterstoconsider.

"We'vegottoworkhardtonight.Red,"hesaid."andgetthatstuffout.There'sonlyanotheryardtodig."

"Andhardyou'llhavetowork!"mockedPeter.

LeeSmittwaslookingathimwithanoddexpression.Presentlyhereachedoutandtappedthebig"gardener"ontheshoulder,

"Getthatgirl,Red.She'syours!"

Peter'sfacewentwhiteanddrawn.

"Ifyouhurther...."

"If I hurt her or don't hurt her you'll be quite unconscious of the fact bytomorrow,"midLeeSmittcurtly."Helpgethimdowntothecellar.There'llbeabigholetherewhenthoseboxescomeout,Mr.Dunn,andwe'llwantthreepeopletoputinit.That'sall—three."

Patheard theirheavy feet as theycarriedPeter along thepassage.And thensheheardanothersound—somebodywastryingthehandleofherdoor.

"Whoisit?"sheasked.

"Openthedoor,littledarling."

Itwasthevoiceofthebiggardener,andforamomentsheswayedandhadtoholdontothewallforsupport.

"Youcan'tcomeinhere.Thedoor'slocked.Ifyoudon'tgoawayI'llscream."

"Sureyou'll scream."Theanswerhad seemed to amusehim. "You'll screammoreinaminute.Openthatdoor...."

Thedoorshookashethrewhisweightagainstit,Shewasterrified.Sherantothe window, and then understood the significance of those two cross barswhichpreventedthewindowbeingopened.

A panel splintered under the fist of the big man, and she looked round infrantic despair....Her eyes fell upon the book, "Advice to aYoungLady ofFashion."Itwasastraw,andsheclutchedatit.Shepulledthebookoutfromtheshelf.Itwasunusuallyheavy,andwhensheopeneditshesawthereason:embeddedintheverycentreofthepageswhichhadbeencutouttoreceiveit,was a small automatic pistol. With trembling hands she took it out, anddroppedthebookonthefloorasthedoorrippedopen.

Hewasstandingthere,hisfaceinflamed,hispaleeyesliketwoballsofwhitefire.

"IfyoucomenearmeI'llshoot!"

"Shoot,eh?"

Hetookonestepintotheroom.Thecrashoftheexplosiondeafenedher.Withhorrorshesawthemancrumpleupandgodownwithacrashtothefloor,andsheranpasthim,stillgrippingtheguninherhand.Thewonderwasthatinherexcitementherconvulsiveclutchdidnotexplodeanothershot.

Sheturnedonthe lightsof thedrawing-roomasshewent in.Herfatherwassitting.trussedupinachair.Shetriedtountiehisbondsbutcouldnot.Then,on the floor, near the garden door, she saw the clumsy-looking pistol. Sheturned thekeyof the lockandranoutside.Aiming thepistolhigh in theair,shefired.Itwasanoddexperience.

ShewasinthehomeagainbeforetheVereylightilluminatedthecountryside.

Where had they taken Peter? The library was empty. She passed into thekitchenandheardsounds.Thecellardoorwasopenandshelookedin.Thensheheardthevoicesmoreclearly.ItwasPeterwhowasspeaking.

"Ifyouhurtthatgirlyou'dbetterkillme."

"You'll be killed all right." saidHerzoff. "Snap into it, Joe:we've got to be

away from here by daylight. Joyce, you take the girl's car and clear—don'twaitforus."Patwalkedontothelandingandtookonestepdown,"You'llaskmefirst,won'tyou?"

Atthesoundofhervoicetheylookedup.

"Don'tmoveorI'llshoot.UntieMr.Dunn."

The quick-witted Joyce came sidling towards her. "You wouldn't shoot awoman,wouldyou,MissHannay?"shewhined.

"If I had to shoot any woman I should shoot you," said Pat, and she soobviouslymeantitthatthegirlsteppedbackinafright."UntieMr.Dunn."

Shewaited till Peterwas on his feet, and her attentionwas so concentrateduponhimthatshedidnotsecHerzoff'shandmovingupthewall.Ifshehad,shemightnothaverealisedthatitwasgoingtowardstheelectricswitch.

"Let's talk this over, Miss Hannay." The mysterious professor drawled hiswords. "Give us half an hour to get away and nobody will he hurt. Thisstuff"—hepointedtoanopendoorwhichevidentlyledtoaninnercellar—"isours.We'vedonetwelveyearsforit,andwe'reentitledtohaveit."

Andthenthelightwentout.Sheheardashot,andanother,andthesoundofawoman'sshriek.

She flew up the stairs into the dark kitchen, and stumbled through into theopenair.Somebodywasatherheels.Itwasthebutler.Hegrabbedather,andcaughtherbythesleeve.Shetoreherwayoutofhisgraspandran.

Somewhere near at hand police whistles were blowing. She had a dimconsciousnessofseeingmenrunningacrossthelawntowardsher.

"Where'sInspectorDunn?"

Therewasnomistakingtheauthoritativetone.Shegaspedhernews.

Herpursuerhaddisappeared,Theyfoundhim,whenthelightscameon,inthekitchen,aphilosophicalcriminalawaitingtheinevitablearrest.

AsshecameintothekitchenPeterstaggeredoutofthecellarentrance.

"HavetheygotSmitt?"heasked.

Sheshookherhead.

"Ihaven'tseenhim.YoumeanProfessorHerzoff?"Peterturnedtoanofficerwhohadcomein.

"Callanambulance.Heshothisdaughter.Ifbedidn'tcomeupherehe'sdowntherestill."

Helookedatthebutler.

"Isthereanotherwayoutofhere?"

"I'dsaythereis—throughthetunnel,Iguess,"saidHigginssulkily.

"Thetunnel?"

Peterrememberedtheman'sboast.

"Yes,butit'sprettydangeroustouse.Thegroundwastoosoft;itkeptrunningdownonus."

Peterturnedquicklybacktothecellar,reachedthebottomofthestonestepsandpassedthroughthedoorwhichseparatedtheinnercellar.Thenhesawforthefirsttimethelowentranceofthetunnel.Somebodywasthere.

"Comeout,Smitt."

The answer was a shot that sent the earth scattering. It had another effect.Great lumps of soft earth began to pour through, Peter had just time toscramble hack to the cellar when therewas a rumble and a roar, and greatclouds of dust shot out of the narrow entrance.He threw in the rays of hislamp,butcouldsecnothing.

"That'stheweakestpartofthetunnel."ItwasHiggins'quaveringvoice"ItoldLeewemustn'tuseit...."Suddenlyhestopped,andalookofterrorcametohisface.

"Listen!"hewhispered,-and.listening,theyheardtheclick-click-clickofthedeathwatch."That'sforLee."

"There'snothingmuchmoretoexplain,"saidPeterDunnthatnightwhenhehadtoldhisstoryostensiblytoMr.Hannay,actuallytoMr.Hannay'sdaughter."The.first thingtheydidwastofrightenawayall theservantsandsubstitutetheirowncrowd.Thatwasatthebackofalltheghostbusiness.

"Theythoughtitwouldbeeasy.Theyhadalreadymadeanabortiveattempttoreach the cellar through a tunnelwhich they drove under the earth. Itmusthavetakentwomonthsofhardwork,andtheyusedthetimewhileyouwereintheSouthofFrance.Theygotintothehouse,buttheydidn'trelishtakingonthe caretaker you left there, a policeman from the neighbourhood, if Irememberrightly.

"Oncethey'dstaffedthehousewiththeirownpeople,theirjobwastogetridof you and Pat. They did the honourable thing—they offered to rent yourhouse."

Mr.Hannaysnorted.

"Whenthatfailed,"Peterwenton,"theyusedthemethodbywhichtheyhadterrorisedtheservantstogetyoutogiveupyouroccupation.Ifyou'ddonethatitwouldhavebeenasimplematter:theycouldhaveopeneduptheirtreasurehouseatleisure.Asitwas,theycouldonlyworkforafewhoursatnight,andtheyhadtocarttheearthawayinsacks.You'llfindtwoorthreefullsacksnearyourgardener'sshed.

"Whatpuzzledmewasthemaid,Joyce.Ididn'tknowuntilthisafternoonthatLeeSmitthadadaughterwhohadbeenanactress.Whenshepretendedthatshe'dseenamanwalk throughher roomsheactedprettywell.Anyway,shedeceivedyou.Mr.Hannay,andIshouldimaginethatyouwouldtakeawholelotofdeceiving."

Pattriedtocatchhiseyebutdidnotsucceed.

"Itisveryremarkablehowthingscomeabout,"saidMr.Hannay,"SomethingtoldmethatinnocircumstancesoughtItogiveuppossessionofthishouse—whichshowsyou,Mr.Dunn,howthepathofdutycanalsobe—um—thepathof glory. If I had taken the easier path we should not have captured thesecriminals.Wemighthavesavedourselvesalittletrouble.andperhapsalittledanger—andIdon'tthinkanyofyourealisehownearIwastochokingmyselfwiththatbeastlygagthefellowputintomymouth—butweshouldnothaveand the satisfaction of having placed twomiscreants in gaol.By theway, Isupposemyevidencewillbenecessary?"

"Undoubtedly."saidPeter,withgreatgravity,"Yourevidencewillpossiblybethemostvitalofall."

Whenherfatherhadgone,Patasked:

"AmItogointothatawfulcourt?"

"Youarenot,"saidPeterDunnemphatically."Therearequiteenoughpeopletakingcreditforthislittlecoup.

Iwillgiveallevidencerequired,andIfI'maskedIshallmentionthefactthatmywifewaspresent."

"ButI'mnotyourwife,"saidPat.

"Youwillbebythen,"saidPeter.

THEEND

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