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She’ll pay

any price to Pratt to keep them from ever becoming known or operative.

But, as I say, don’t you forget something!”

 

“What?” asked Collingwood.

 

Eldrick tapped the edge of the table, emphasizing his words as he spoke

them.

 

“They can destroy that will whenever they like!” he said. “And once

destroyed, nothing can absolutely prove that it ever existed!”

 

“The duplicate?” suggested Collingwood.

 

“Nothing to give us the faintest idea as to its existence!” said

Eldrick.

 

“We might advertise,” said Collingwood.

 

“Lots of advertising was done when John Mallathorpe died,” replied the

solicitor. “No!—if any person had had it in possession, it would have

turned up then. It may be—probably is—possibly must be—somewhere—and

may yet come to light. But—there’s another way of getting at Pratt.

Through this Parrawhite affair. Pratt most likely had not the least

notion that he would ever hear of Parrawhite again. He is going to hear

of Parrawhite again! I am convinced now that Parrawhite knew something

about this, and that Pratt squared him and got him away. Aren’t you?” he

asked, turning to Byner.

 

But Byner smiled quietly and shook his head.

 

“No!” he answered. “I am not, Mr. Eldrick.”

 

“You’re not?” exclaimed Eldrick, surprised and wondering that anybody

could fail to agree with him.

 

“Why not, then?”

 

“Because,” replied Byner. “I am certain that Pratt murdered Parrawhite

on the night of November twenty-third last. That’s why. He didn’t square

him. He didn’t get him away. He killed him!”

 

The effect of this straightforward pronouncement of opinion on the two

men who heard it was strikingly different. Collingwood’s face at once

became cold and inscrutable; his lips fixed themselves sternly; his eyes

looked hard into a problematic future. But Eldrick flushed as if a

direct accusation had been levelled at himself, and he turned on the

inquiry agent almost impatiently.

 

“Murder!” he exclaimed. “Oh, come! I—really, that’s rather a stiff

order! I dare say Pratt’s been up to all sorts of trickery, and even

deviltry—but murder is quite another thing. You’re pretty ready to

accuse him!”

 

Byner moved his head in Collingwood’s direction—and Eldrick turned and

looked anxiously at Collingwood, who, finding the eyes of both men on

him, opened his hitherto tight-shut lips.

 

“I think it quite likely!” he said.

 

Byner laughed softly and looked at the solicitor.

 

“Just listen to me a minute or two, Mr. Eldrick,” he said. “I’ll sum up

my own ideas on this matter, got from the various details that have been

supplied to me since I came to Barford. Just consider my points one by

one. Let’s take them separately—and see how they fit in.

 

“1. Mr. Bartle is seen by his shop-boy to take a certain paper from a

book which came from the late John Mallathorpe’s office at Mallathorpe

Mill. He puts that paper in his pocket.

 

“2. Immediately afterwards Mr. Bartle goes to your office. Nobody is

there but Pratt—as far as Pratt knows.

 

“3. Bartle dies suddenly—after telling Pratt that the paper is John

Mallathorpe’s will. Pratt steals the will. And the probability is that

Parrawhite, unknown to Pratt, was in that office, and saw him steal it.

Why is that probable? Because—

 

“4. Next night Parrawhite, who is being pressed for money by Pickard,

tells Pickard that he can get it out of Pratt, over whom he has a hold.

What hold? We can imagine what hold. Anyway—

 

“5. Parrawhite leaves Pickard to meet Pratt. He did meet Pratt—in

Stubbs’ Lane. He was seen to go with Pratt into the disused quarry. And

there, in my opinion, Pratt killed him—and disposed of his body.

 

“6. What does Pratt do next? He goes to your office first thing next

morning, and removes certain moneys which you say you carelessly left in

your desk the night before, and tears out certain cheque forms from your

book. When Parrawhite never turns up that morning, you—and

Pratt—conclude that he’s the thief, and that he’s run away.

 

“7. If you want some proof of the correctness of this last suggestion,

you’ll find it in the fact that no use has ever been made of those blank

cheques, and that—in all probability—the stolen banknotes have never

reached the Bank of England. On that last point I’m making inquiry—but

my feeling is that Pratt destroyed both cheques and banknotes when he

stole them.

 

“8. This man Parrawhite out of the way, Pratt has a clear field. He’s

got the will. He’s already acquainted Mrs. Mallathorpe with that fact,

and with the terms of the will—whatever they may be. We may be sure,

however, that they are of such a nature as to make her willing to agree

to his demands upon her—and, accidentally, to go to any lengths—upon

which we needn’t touch, at present—towards getting possession of the

will from him.

 

“9. And the present situation—from Pratt’s standpoint of yesterday—is

this. He’s so sure of his own safety that he doesn’t mind revealing to

the daughter that the mother’s in his power. Why? Because Pratt, like

most men of his sort, cannot believe that self-interest isn’t paramount

with everybody—it’s beyond him to conceive it possible that Miss

Mallathorpe would do anything that might lose her several thousands a

year. He argued—‘So long as I hold that will, nobody and nothing can

make me give it up nor divulge its contents. But I can bind one person

who benefits by it—Miss Mallathorpe, and for the mother’s sake I can

keep the daughter quiet!’ Well—he hasn’t kept the daughter quiet!

She—spoke!

 

“10. And last—in all such schemes as Pratt’s, the schemer invariably

forgets something. Pratt forgot that there might arise what actually has

arisen—inquiry for Parrawhite. The search for Parrawhite is afoot—and

if you want to get at Pratt, it will have to be through what I firmly

believe to be a fact—his murder of Parrawhite and his disposal of

Parrawhite’s body.

 

“That’s all, Mr. Eldrick,” concluded Byner who had spoken with much

emphasis throughout. “It all seems very clear to me, and,” he added,

with a glance at Collingwood, “I think Mr. Collingwood is inclined to

agree with most of what I’ve said.”

 

“Pretty nearly all—if not all,” assented Collingwood. “I think you’ve

put into clear language precisely what I feel. I don’t believe there’s a

shadow of doubt that Pratt killed Parrawhite! And we can—and must—get

at him in that way. What do you suggest?” he continued, turning to

Byner. “You have some idea, of course?”

 

“First of all,” answered Byner, “we mustn’t arouse any suspicion on

Pratt’s part. Let us work behind the screen. But I have an idea as to

how he disposed of Parrawhite, and I’m going to follow it up this very

day—my first duty, you know, is towards the people who want Parrawhite,

or proof of his death. I propose to–-”

 

Just then Collingwood’s clerk came in with a telegram.

 

“Sent on from the Central Hotel, sir,” he answered. “They said Mr.

Black would be found here.”

 

“That’s mine,” said the inquiry agent. “I left word at the hotel that

they were to send to your chambers if any wire came for me. Allow me.”

He opened the telegram, looked it over, and waiting until the clerk had

gone, turned to his companions. “Here’s a message from my partner, Mr.

Halstead,” he continued. “Listen to what he wires:

 

“‘Wire just received from Murgatroyd, shipping agent, Peel Row,

Barford. He says Parrawhite left that town for America on

November 24th last and offers further information. Let me know

what to reply!’”

 

Byner laid the message before Eldrick and Collingwood without further

comment.

CHAPTER XXII

THE CAT’SPAW

 

On the evening of the day whereon Nesta Mallathorpe had paid him the

visit which had resulted in so much plain speech on both sides, Pratt

employed his leisure in a calm review of the situation. He was by no

means dissatisfied, it seemed to him that everything was going very well

for his purposes. He was not at all sorry that Nesta had been to see

him—far from it. He regretted nothing that he had said to her. In his

desperate opinion, his own position was much stronger when she left

him than it was when he opened his office door to her. She now knew,

said Pratt, with what a strong and resourceful man she had to deal: she

would respect him, and have a better idea of him, now that she was aware

of his impregnable position.

 

Herein Pratt’s innate vanity and his ignorance showed themselves. He had

little knowledge of modern young women, and few ideas about them; and

such ideas as he possessed were usually mistaken ones. But one was that

it is always necessary to keep a firm hand on women—let them see and

feel your power, said Pratt. He had been secretly delighted to acquaint

Nesta Mallathorpe with his power, to drive it into her that he had the

whip hand of her mother, and through her mother, of Nesta herself. He

had seen that Nesta was much upset and alarmed by what he told her. And

though she certainly seemed to recover her spirits at the end of the

interview, and even refused to shake hands with him, he cherished the

notion that in the war of words he had come off a decided victor. He did

not believe that Nesta would utter to any other soul one word of what

had passed between them: she would be too much afraid of calling down

his vengeance on her mother. What he did believe was that as time went

by, and all progressed smoothly, Nesta would come to face and accept

facts: she would find him honest and hardworking in his dealings with

Mrs. Mallathorpe (as he fully intended to be, from purely personal and

selfish motives) and she herself would begin to tolerate and then to

trust him, and eventually—well, who knew what might or might not

happen? What said the great Talleyrand?—WITH TIME AND PATIENCE, THE

MULBERRY LEAF IS TURNED INTO SATIN.

 

But Pratt’s self-complacency received a shock next morning. If he had

been a reader of London newspapers, it would have received a shock the

day before. Pratt, however, was essentially parochial in his newspaper

tastes—he never read anything but the Barford papers. And when he

picked up the Barford morning journal and saw Eldrick’s advertisement

for Parrawhite in a prominent place, he literally started from sheer

surprise—not unmingled with alarm. It was as if he were the occupant of

a strong position, only fortified, who suddenly finds a shell dropped

into his outworks from a totally unexpected quarter.

 

Parrawhite! Advertised for by Eldrick! Why? For what reason? For what

purpose? With what idea? Parrawhite!—of all men in the

world—Parrawhite, of whom he had never wanted to hear again! And what

on earth could Eldrick want with him, or with news of him? It would

be—or might be—an uncommonly awkward thing for him, Pratt, if a really

exhaustive search were made for Parrawhite. For nobody knew better than

himself that one little thing leads to another, and—but he forbore to

follow out what might have been his train of thought. Once he was

tempted to make an excuse for going round to Eldrick & Pascoe’s with the

idea of fishing for information—but he refrained. Let things

develop—that was a safer plan. Still, he was anxious and disturbed all

day. Then, towards the end of the afternoon, he bought one of the

Barford evening papers—and saw, in staring letters, the advertisement

which Byner had caused to be inserted only a few hours previously. And

at that, Pratt became afraid.

 

Parrawhite wanted!—news of Parrawhite wanted!—and in two separate

quarters. Wanted by Eldrick—wanted by some London

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