The Charing Cross Mystery, J. S. Fletcher [portable ebook reader .txt] 📗

in their possession the original warrant for Mrs. Whittingham’s arrest!”

Hetherwick felt himself impelled to jump in his chair, to exclaim loudly. He repressed the inclination, but Matherfield was less reserved.

“Ah!” he exclaimed sharply. “Ah!”

“Baseverie made a false step there,” continued Blenkinsop. “He should never have told that. But he did⁠—no doubt he thought a rich woman easy prey. Now, of course, when we came to consult, we knew all about the Sellithwaite affair; we knew, too, that Hannaford was superintendent at the time and that he had the warrant; it was not at all improbable that he had preserved it in his pocketbook, and had it on him when he came to London. What, then, was the obvious conclusion⁠—that the men who now held that warrant had got it, probably by foul means, from Hannaford, and were concerned in his murder? And⁠—more than that⁠—did the gang of which Baseverie spoke really exist? Wasn’t it likely that the gang was⁠—Baseverie?”

“Aye!” muttered Matherfield. “I’ve been thinking of that!”

“Yet,” said Blenkinsop, “it was on the cards that there might be a gang. We searched all the newspapers’ accounts thoroughly. We found that next to no information could be got as to Hannaford’s movements between the time of his arrival in London and the night of his death. The one man who might have given more information about Hannaford’s doings on the evening preceding his death⁠—Granett⁠—was dead, evidently poisoned, as Hannaford was poisoned. These were circumstances⁠—they’ve probably occurred to both of you⁠—which led us to believe that Hannaford had formed the acquaintance of folk here in town who were of a shady sort. And one thing was absolutely certain⁠—if the gang, or if Baseverie, had really got that warrant, they had got it from Hannaford! Eh?”

“That may be taken as certain,” assented Hetherwick. “Either directly or indirectly, it must have been from him.”

“We think they, or he, got it directly from him,” said Blenkinsop. “Our theory is that if there is a gang Baseverie is an active, perhaps the leading, member; that Hannaford was previously acquainted with him or some other member; that Hannaford was with him or them on the evening preceding his death; that he jokingly told them that he had discovered the identity of Madame Listorelle with Mrs. Whittingham; and that they poisoned him⁠—and Granett, as being present⁠—in order to keep the secret to themselves and to blackmail Madame Listorelle and her sister, Lady Riversreade. That’s our general idea⁠—and that’s why, on Monday noon, we issued the advertisement. We meant to keep things to ourselves at first, and if substantial evidence came, to pass it over to the police. Now you know everything. It may be, if there is a gang, that one member will turn traitor for the sake of five thousand pounds and if he can exculpate himself satisfactorily; it may be, too, that matters will develop until we’re in a position to fasten things on Baseverie⁠—”

“I still wish that either Lady Riversreade or Major Penteney had handed him over to custody!” said Matherfield. “You see⁠—”

“You’ve got to remember that Baseverie never demanded anything for himself,” interrupted Penteney. “He represented himself as a go-between. But our man’s safe enough⁠—a retired detective, and⁠—”

Just then a clerk opened the door and entered with a telegram. Blenkinsop tore open the envelope, glanced hurriedly at the message and flung the form on his desk with an exclamation of annoyance.

“This is from our man!” he said. “Sent from Dover. Followed Baseverie down there⁠—and Baseverie’s slipped him!”

XVII The Torn Labels

Penteney strode forward and picked up the telegram; a moment later he passed it over to Hetherwick.

“That’s most unfortunate!” he exclaimed. “And unexpected, too! Of course, the fellow’s slipped off to the Continent.”

Matherfield looked over Hetherwick’s shoulder and read the message.

Followed him down here last night. Put up at same hotel, but he slipped me and got clear away early this morning. Returning now.

“You should have employed two men, gentlemen,” said Matherfield. “One’s not enough⁠—in a case of that sort. But it’s as I said before⁠—this man should have been given into custody at once. However⁠—”

He got up from his chair, as if there was no more to be said, and moved towards the door. But halfway across the room he paused.

“You’ll let me know if anybody comes forward about that reward?” he suggested. “It’s more of a police matter, you know.”

The two partners, who were obviously much annoyed by the telegram, nodded.

“We shall let you know⁠—at once,” answered Blenkinsop. “Of course, you’ll regard all we’ve told you as strictly confidential?”

“Oh, to be sure, sir,” replied Matherfield. “It’s not the only private and confidential feature of this affair, I assure you.”

Outside he turned to Hetherwick.

“Well!” he said. “We’ve cleared up a few things, Mr. Hetherwick⁠—or, rather, those two have cleared them up for us. But are we any nearer answering the question that we want answering⁠—who poisoned Robert Hannaford?”

“I think we are!” replied Hetherwick. “I am, anyhow! Either Baseverie poisoned him⁠—or he knows who did!”

“Knows who did!” repeated Matherfield. “Ah!⁠—that’s more like it. I don’t think he did it⁠—he wouldn’t be so ready about showing himself forward.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” remarked Hetherwick. “From what we’ve heard of him, he seems to be a bold and daring sort of scamp. Probably he thought he’d have a very easy prey in Lady Riversreade; probably, too, he believed that a woman who’s got all that money would make little to do about parting with thirty thousand pounds. One thing’s sure, however⁠—Baseverie knows what we want to know. And⁠—he’s gone!”

“Perhaps⁠—perhaps!” said Matherfield. “And perhaps not. This man of Penteney’s no doubt tracked him to Dover, and there he lost him, but that isn’t saying that Baseverie’s gone on the Continent. If Baseverie’s the cute customer that he seems to be, he’d put two and two together when Major Penteney warned him off Riversreade Court. He’d probably suspect Penteney of setting a watch on him; he may have spotted the very man who was watching.