CHAPTER IX
Mr. Johnson returned to find a motor car standing outside his door andMajor Holmes with a subordinate in colloquy with Morton. He led themhimself to the library, showed them the door with its picked lock, theempty coffer and the window on the ground floor through which themarauder had made an easy entrance. The Chief Constable was perplexed.
"You are only a sub-tenant here, I understand, Mr. Johnson?" he asked.
"Only a sub-tenant," the latter acknowledged.
"And you yourself have never been in this room? I gather that it waslocked up by Miss Endacott's instructions."
"Quite so."
"Then you really don't know what has been taken?"
"The contents of the coffer evidently," Mr. Johnson replied. "It wasalways understood that it contained Chinese manuscripts which Mr.Endacott brought home with him from abroad."
There was a moment's silence. Then Major Holmes continued.
"I have told Inspector Cloutson here," he said, "of your visit to me."
"And of my suspicions?"
"Yes."
The inspector coughed. He had a heavy but ingenuous countenance.Disbelief was stamped upon it.
"Will you gentlemen follow me?" Mr. Johnson invited.
He led them on to the lawn, well away from the house. At a safe distancehe came to a standstill and pointed to the library.
"Endacott," he said, "was murdered for the possession of that otherwooden Image and for the manuscript which indicated the whereabouts ofthe jewels. The object of the murder was achieved in part. A woodenImage was taken. You will find it now at Ballaston Hall. For some reasonor another, the murderer failed to secure the document. He probablyheard some movement in the house. The burglary last night was undertakento secure it. Nothing else was touched, but the manuscripts are missing.The only person to whom the manuscripts are useful is the possessor ofthe Images."
Inspector Cloutson stroked his chin thoughtfully. He looked acrosstowards the great front of the Hall. His was not the type of brain toquickly absorb suspicion, and much of this talk concerning wooden Imagesand Chinese manuscripts he looked upon as fantastic--almost as fantasticas the idea that a member of one of the great county families whom herevered could so far forget their lofty station as to commit amisdemeanour under the shadow of the law. Crime, in Inspector Cloutson'sopinion, was for the criminals. The idea of a Ballaston as a criminalwas grotesque.
"You refer to the Ballastons," Major Holmes observed, after a pause.
Mr. Johnson inclined his head.
"I refer to the Ballastons," he assented. "Wait, please, a moment."
Morton came towards them, followed by the young man who was interestedin moths. Mr. Johnson welcomed him pleasantly, but with no indication ofintimacy.
"Glad to see you, Fielding," he said. "I sent word down that those troutflies had arrived. I'll show them to you directly. That will do,Morton."
The butler departed. Mr. Johnson turned to the Chief Constable.
"This is Mr. Fielding," he announced. "He is a member of the firm ofWatts and Fielding, private enquiry agents. He has been staying in theneighbourhood for the last month, making a few investigations for me."
The relations between the accredited representatives of the law and aprivate enquiry agent were scarcely likely to be cordial. Major Holmes,however, nodded slightly.
"To some extent, as I told you, I have been anticipating last night'svisit," Mr. Johnson continued. "Mr. Fielding, therefore, has spent aconsiderable portion of his time after midnight watching the egress fromthe Hall. He will tell you that this morning a man slipped out of one ofthe side entrances, a door, in fact, which opened from the small libraryinto the garden, at ten minutes past three, and that he followed him tothis house."
"Is that a fact?" the Chief Constable asked gravely.
"That is a fact," Fielding replied. "I am prepared to swear to it."
"Did you recognise the man?" Major Holmes enquired.
The other shook his head.
"I was obeying orders in keeping strictly out of sight," he explained."I was not near enough to recognise him. Once before, some one left bythe same door at about the same time, but he looked behind in the parkand saw me, so nothing happened."
"If you saw this person enter these premises at that hour of themorning," the Chief Constable enquired, "why did you not follow, in caseMr. Johnson needed assistance?"
"My express orders were that he should do nothing of the sort," thelatter intervened. "I wished, for many reasons, to keep the matter in myown hands. I have been used to scraps," he went on, "in every part ofthe world. I understand jiu-jitsu, boxing and how to draw a gun asquickly as any one. I never dreamed that I might be outwitted. Thevisitor from the Hall who stole the manuscripts last night was tooclever for me.
"Now, sir," Mr. Johnson continued impressively, "I want everything donein an orthodox fashion, and I know very well your prejudice, and a verynatural one, against the interference of private detectives. Mr.Fielding will withdraw from the case from now onwards, but I do expectthat, on the basis of the information you have already received, youwill at once proceed with the necessary enquiries."
"I have no alternative but to do so," the Chief Constable admittedreluctantly. "I must warn you, however, that I shall do so in the mannerwhich seems to me the most desirable. I shall approach Sir Bertramhimself."
"You will use your own discretion, of course," Mr. Johnson said, "butaction must be taken at once. There mustn't be time for any one to slipoff abroad, or anything of that sort. And I want you to remember this,Major--when you've found last night's burglar, and that ought not to bea difficult job, you should also be able to solve the mystery of my poorfriend Endacott's murder."
"That may be so, Mr. Johnson," the other answered, a little sadly. "Ican only say that I sincerely hope not. We shall probably meet later inthe day."
"I shall be here or in the neighbourhood," the other promised.
The Chief Constable and his subordinate entered the car and drove off.They swung round the corner of the lane and a dozen curious pairs ofeyes saw them turn in at the park gates.
"What do you think of this, Cloutson?" the former asked.
"Bunkum!" was the prompt reply. "That's what I think--bunkum! Andbetween you and me, Major, I don't think much of that fellow Johnson. Astranger to the neighbourhood. No one knows anything about him. Comehere for God knows why, and spinning yarns like this! Bunkum is what Ithink of it! And as for this burglar, who else except that pettifoggingenquiry agent saw any one leave the Great House? Not a soul. We've heardof jobs, Major, done from the inside, done by the victim, haven't we?Those manuscripts, or whatever he calls them, were just as likely to bevaluable to Johnson as to any one else. Supposing he wanted them? Well,he's gone the best way he could to help himself. If you ask me what Ithink about our present errand, sir, I should call it amare's-nest--nothing more nor less. My idea of the job is to get Mr.Johnson's dossier and search the Great House."
The Chief Constable smiled. He had not fully confided in hissubordinate. Yet, when he came to reflect upon the matter, Mr. Johnson'sbona fides had not yet been established. In the depths of hiscompanion's bucolic mind might lurk after all the germ of truth.
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