How long I walked up and down, I do not know, but at last I turned to see her standing before me, like any ghost.
“Will you please come back and sit down? I’ve some questions to ask.”
In silence I did as she said.
“First, may I know your name?”
“My name is Richard Chandos.”
“You told me you didn’t know – him.”
“I’m sorry to say I didn’t.”
“Then why are you interested?”
“We were the first on the scene. And it looked as if those who had killed him were going to get away with the crime. That seemed all wrong to us: and so we decided to – to put a spoke in their wheel.”
“Who is we?”
“There are three of us in this show. And we’ve got a long way. I’ll tell you all in a minute, but first I must ask you this. Are you content that we should do what we can?”
“To bring the crime home?”
“Yes”
She looked away for a moment.
Then—
“Are you sure he was – murdered?” she said.
“By two hired bullies,” I said. “They watched him enter your car, and they knew he’d come back. So they hid themselves in the bracken on either side of the path. Sure enough, you brought him back. He said goodbye to you, and when your car moved off, he took the path through the woods. And as he went by, they struck him down from behind.”
I heard her draw in her breath.
Then—
“I’m more than content,” she said. “I don’t know how you know this, but if the half is true, I’ll pray for you all every night that you may be given the power to bring the crime home.”
“Very well,” said I. “Now, as I see it, you have a right to hear the tale I am going to tell. But we have a right to ask that you do not repeat one word of what I shall say. Had we known about you, we should not have done as we have, without consulting you first. But we did not know of you, and now we are very deep in. I mean – it’s really serious. But the law would have done no good, so we’ve taken it into our hands.”
I heard her sigh.
“You needn’t worry,” she said. “I’ve no one to talk to – now.”
“I’m terribly sorry,” I said.
After a little silence, I told her my tale.
I left very little out, but she never once interrupted and scarcely moved.
When at last it was done, she glanced at her watch. “There seem,” she said, “to be two who desired his death. Duke – Duke Saul of Varvic and Worsteds. Each on his own account.”
“That’s right.”
“But the Duke doesn’t know that Worsteds desired his death, and they will declare that they did what they did for him.”
“Yes.”
“But they couldn’t have done it without him.”
“Why d’you say that?” said I.
“How could they have known he was at Latchet? He was so terribly careful to cover his tracks. He wouldn’t bring his car, lest that should give him away. And he never passed through Salzburg. He came by Trieste. But Varvic’s not twenty-five miles from where we are sitting now. Oh, yes. The Duke must have known he was there. And he sent word to Worsteds – no doubt about that.” Again she glanced at her watch. “Time I was going,” she said, and got to her feet. As I rose too, “I’d like to thank you,” she said. “You’ve been very good. I’m sorry I went to bits; but my life – isn’t very happy, and John…was everything.” Her voice broke there, but I saw her clench her teeth and take hold of herself. “One thing I must say, and that’s this. I am so very thankful that you came into this for his sake, and not for mine. It just makes all the difference. It means I can cheer you on; it means I can wish you God-speed with all my heart. For every reason. You see, Mr Chandos, it’s just what he would have done. I wish you’d known him. You would have got on together. If he had found you in the road, though he might not have known you from Adam, he’d never have rested until he had done his utmost to bring your assailants to book.”
“I wish I had known him,” said I. “And I’m sure we should have got on. But you have got to thank Mansel for all we’ve done. I don’t count beside him. I’ve only followed along. I think you ought to meet him. He’s twice my brain.”
I think she smiled at that, but I cannot be sure.
“Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “But simplicity has its points. Never mind. I’d like to meet him. From what you say, I think you’re staying at Goschen.”
“That’s right,” said I.
“I can’t come there by day. Sunday night, perhaps: but I won’t drive up.”
“Come here,” said I. “You can leave the coupé here and I’ll be here to meet you and drive you in. No one will know. You see, there’s a second approach.”
She seemed to reflect for a moment.
Then—
“That’s understood,” she said. “On Sunday at half-past ten. And thank you once again – for everything. You’d a rotten job tonight: and I only know one man who could have done it so well. And he…is…quiet…now. He’s gone to his long home.”
She opened the near side door and slid into the driver’s seat.
As I closed the door—
“Will Forecast go to the Schloss?”
“I think he may,” said I.
“I see. In that case beware of Varvic. From – from all I’ve heard, he can be a dangerous man.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
A hand came over the door, and I bent my head and put it up to my lips.
“Till Sunday, then.”
“Till Sunday. Don’t put on your lights just yet. I’ll guide you back to the road.”
She put the car into reverse, and I walked with my hand on the door and guided her back. Bell saw us coming, stepped into the midst of the road and beckoned me on.
“Shall I go another way home?”
“I wish you would,” said I.
“Very well.”
She backed round into the road the way we had come. Then she slipped into first…into second…and then she was gone.
I turned to Bell.
“I’ll get the Lowland,” I said, “while you stay here.”
“Very good, sir.”
I was not very far from the Lowland, when I slipped and very near fell. At once I lighted my torch, for I was perfectly sure that I had stepped into some oil. And so I had. A small pool of very black oil was lying where the coupé had stood.
I regarded it, frowning.
Then I turned and began to walk back down the lane.
Two very fine trails of oil were easy to see – sometimes joined together, and sometimes separate.
It looked as though the coupé’s crank-case was leaking; in which case, before she got home, her engine might seize. That was bad enough; but what I liked still less was the fact that to and from the lane she had left a definite trail.
An idea came into my head and I called to Bell…
Together we returned to the pool into which I had stepped.
“What d’you make of that oil, Bell? It looks very black to me.”
Bell rubbed a little between his finger and thumb.
Then–
“It’s not pure oil, sir,” he said. “And it must have something mixed with it. If it had been pure oil, it would have soaked into the ground.”
“Ah,” said I. “And now let’s decide where it came from.”
Thanks to the print of the treads of the coupé’s tyres, we were able to say exactly where she had stood; and that at once showed that the oil had not come from her crank-case, but from the rear of the car.
Bell was shaking his head.
“That’s not gear oil, sir. It’s much too fine.”
I fingered my chin.
“What about a drum in the boot – with a feed-pipe run through the floor boards?”
“Fixed up on purpose, sir? To see where she went?”
“It looks damned like
it, Bell. The boot looked very capacious; and one never opens a boot, if one’s only running about.”
“But who would do that, sir, to her?”
“God knows,” said I. “But she was a friend of Major Bowshot’s. And someone may think she’s worth watching. In fact, it’s quite clear they do. And we must do something about it. For one thing only, she’s coming to meet me here on Sunday night. More. We’d better be quick. If somebody’s trailing the coupé, they’re sure to be here before long. Get that clothes-brush out of the Lowland. The first thing to do is to clean up the mouth of the lane.”
Now it stood to reason that, when the man or men who were using the trail of oil came to a place where this seemed to come to an end, they would at once alight and examine the ground: it was, therefore, essential that we should do nothing to show that the trail had been covered up. Rough obliteration would be useless; the thing must be carefully done. Bell, therefore, collected dust and laid it by handfuls along the side of the trail, and I brushed this dust over the oil, as fast as I could. Still it was a slow business; and a quarter of an hour had gone by before we had hidden the fact that the coupé had entered and later emerged from the lane. And this was not nearly enough, for now the trail ended just short of the mouth of the lane and then began again on the other side. This, to a man who meant business, would be a significant fact; and if such a man entered the lane, though we had covered the oil, he would see the print of the tyres.
I could not think what to do, for I felt that at any moment the following car might arrive. And Bell had no suggestion to make.
I remember standing there, frowning and biting my lip.
And then at last I did what Mansel was always doing to such effect. I tried to put myself in the other man’s place.
At once I saw that, if I were driving with my eyes on the trail of oil and it came to an end, I should not immediately stop, but should drive on very slowly in the hope of picking it up. And when I did pick it up, I should account for the gap by supposing that for two or three moments the feed-pipe had become choked. So far as it went, I think that reasoning was sound, but I could not dismiss the fact that, when at last I came to the end of the trail, I should find it strange that only once, for ten yards, had the feed-pipe been choked. And if once I returned to the gap, I should never leave it until I had examined the lane.
And then I saw what we must do.
We must make some more gaps between the crossroads and the lane.
If we could make two or three, by the time the car which was following came to the lane its driver would be convinced that the feed-pipe had taken to working by fits and starts, and when, after passing the lane, he found the trail once more intact, he would assume that the pipe had now passed some obstruction and cleared itself.
At once I sent Bell for the Lowland and ran down the road myself for fifty or sixty yards. There I collected some dust and set to work again to cover the trail.
Bell was back with the Lowland before I had finished my gap, but I would not let him help me, but bade him stay at the wheel. For then, if we heard a car coming and I was quick, we should not be caught standing still by the side of the road.
But no car came. And when I had made three gaps in the trail of oil – and each of these between twelve and twenty feet long, I felt that Mansel himself would have said that was good enough. So I entered the Lowland and took the seat beside Bell – filthy with dust and sweating, because I had worked so fast. Indeed, so vile was my state that when Bell said “Back to the farm, sir?” I was immensely tempted to, as they say, call it a day. But – and here is the force of example – I could not do that. Had I gone home there and then, Mansel would have said nothing: indeed, he would have commended all I had done. But both he and I would have known that, had he been in my place, he would have done his best to get a view of the men who were trailing my lady’s car.
And so—
“Not yet, Bell,” I said. “Before we go, I’d like to pick up the wallahs whose game we’ve been trying to spoil. Of course, I’d like to see them without being seen; that’s rather a lot to hope for; but at least we may be able to have a look at their car. What I do not understand is why they haven’t rolled up. It’s suited our book very well, but I find it strange.”
“They might have been waiting, sir, till the lady got back. Say they’re in the same garage. Well if they start before she gets back, when she comes in, she’d see that their car had gone out. And that might make her think.”
“Good for you,” said I. “That’s the explanation, as like as not. Oh, of course it is. They must belong to her garage. That’s how they had the chance of fixing her car.”
“That’s right, sir.”
“I’m afraid it is. And I don’t like the look of it, Bell. She’s no one to count on – she told me as much tonight.”
“You can’t get word to her, sir?”
“I don’t know where she comes from or who she is.”
There was a little silence.
Then—
“You can find where she comes from, sir. You’ve only to follow the oil.”
“Well done, indeed,” said I. “Round we go, Bell. And we’ll have a look at the others as they come in.”
In a flash he had turned the Lowland, and then we were whipping along the way we had come.
Our lights were good; but only when they were dipped, could we see the trail – a black thread, shining a little, laid upon the white of the road. Still, as long as there was no turning, we knew that it must be there; so we drove with our headlights up, watching the road for a turning and taking the trail for granted, so long as no side road appeared.
Three times we slowed down, on seeing a turning ahead; but always the trail led straight on, until we came to a place where three roads met. Here it swung to the left; and another nine miles went by before we came to crossroads where again it turned to the left.
It was when we had covered in all some twenty-eight miles, that we saw we were approaching a byroad which seemed to climb up to a wood; and when Bell had checked the Lowland and dipped her lights, we saw at once that the coupé had gone that way.
Round to the left we went and up – a sharp climb – to the wood, and there, to an oak, was fastened a notice-board. Only two words it bore, and these were ‘PRIVATE ROAD.’
Automatically, Bell slowed down.
“On you go,” said I. “But dip your lights. Once we’re out of the wood, we’ll turn them out.”
But the wood did not give way; and though we tried to drive without any lights, the leaves above were too thick. There was, therefore, nothing for it but to go on as before – but, of course, with our headlights dipped.
And then after more than two miles, in which we must have risen a hundred and fifty feet, I saw the moonlight flooding the meadows ahead.
And something more than the meadows.
No cathedral that ever I saw so dignified its precincts as did that splendid castle its simple curtilage. The forests walled it about, and the meadows made it a carpet on which to stand. With the silver light and the shadows, it made a picture fit for a poet’s dream; and though thereafter I saw it more than once, I shall never forget my exquisite, first impression, for it had the fairy-tales beaten – and that is the honest truth.
Only one light was burning in all the pile, and that was showing low down by the castle gate. Presumably this was the light of the porter’s lodge; for a place of such importance would certainly have a night-porter, to keep the gate.
Bell stopped at the meadow’s edge and put out his lights, and I sat for a moment or two, regarding the lovely scene. Then I took hold of myself and began to consider the facts.
We had presumably run my lady to earth: but unless I could see her and tell her what was afoot, I should have done no more than obtain some information which she had not meant me to have. The castle was not very big, but, if indeed this was her home, to investigate such a building was more than I dared. As it was, we were badly placed, fo
r we could not turn and go back down the private road, for fear of meeting the car which we knew must be following us; yet so far as I could see, the road we were using ran up to the castle’s gate; and though, of course, there must be a second drive – for only one trail of oil had been laid upon this – I could see no sign of one and could only suppose that it, like ours, ran up to the castle itself. That meant that, if we were to reach it, we must drive for two hundred yards under the eyes of the watchman or anyone else who was up, right up to the castle, as though we desired to go in; and this was not at all to my taste; for, if our passage was reported, my lady, already suspect, might well be taken to task. Besides, to advertise our presence was the last thing I wanted to do.
After a little reflection, I told Bell to drive on a few paces until we were clear of the trees and then to back the Lowland on to the grass, keeping as close to the trees as ever be could. This he did very deftly; and we presently came to rest some thirty yards from the drive and so close to the wood that no one who had not been watching would have known that the car was there.
We were now all ready to leave by the way we had come and had only to wait for the following car to go by; but since we had now secured a fair line of retreat, I felt we should leave the Lowland and go on on foot; for if we could locate the garage before the others came in, we should stand a very good chance of seeing what they looked like; for we should be in the shadows, but they would be in the light. And they would be off their guard.
Since the moon was westering, the castle was throwing its shadow towards the east; as we were now north of the castle, the shadow lay on our left; we therefore left the Lowland and moved round the edge of the woods, until we were opposite the shadow the great pile threw. We now had about one hundred and thirty yards of moonlit meadow to cross, but on this side no light was showing, and I felt that here was a risk we could fairly take. Still, to walk upright, would have been the act of a fool; so we covered the ground on our bellies, until we had reached the shelter the shadow gave. Then we stole right up to the castle, and, turning left, began to move round its wall.
Eye For A Tooth Page 6
