The Ponson Case

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  Daunt was puzzled.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘We have the butler’s and Miss Belcher’s evidence to corroborate Cosgrove’s own story there. I don’t see that we can reasonably doubt he did what he said.’

  ‘Don’t you? But I do. Probably both these people were interested. Miss Belcher we know was—she was on too friendly terms not to be. And the butler may have been well paid to tell his story. Another thing makes me doubt Miss Belcher. You remember the conversation Mr Tanner overheard between her and Mr Cosgrove in the restaurant? They mentioned an alibi. Mr Tanner thought they were talking about Austin. I don’t believe it. It was Mr Cosgrove’s own alibi they were discussing. What do you think?’

  ‘It’s possible, of course,’ Daunt answered slowly, ‘but I question if we can be sure of it.’ He began to think Lois had got an obsession.

  ‘Well, whether or not is immaterial. What matters is that Mr Cosgrove’s whereabouts after 7.30 has not been proved.’

  ‘But you forget Tanner’s time table. Cosgrove wouldn’t have had time to go to Luce Manor between the trains.’

  ‘Yes!’ cried Lois excitedly, ‘he would! That’s the point I’ve been coming to. According to Mr Tanner’s calculations he would have had time or almost time, to go to Luce Manor and back, but he wouldn’t have had time to commit the murder. But Mr Tanner assumed he had first driven to his rooms. If he had gone direct from King’s Cross he would have had time for all.’

  This was a new idea to Daunt, and he had to admit its possibility.

  ‘It may be so certainly,’ he answered, ‘but how are we to prove it? That butler won’t give himself away if he has lied.’

  ‘I’ve thought of that, too, and there seems to be one way we might get at it. Mr Cosgrove said he took three drives during that time—first, from King’s Cross to Knightsbridge; second, from Knightsbridge to the Empire; and third, from the Follies’, to King’s Cross. Could we not find the cabmen, or at least one of them?’

  ‘By Jove, Lois, you should have been a detective,’ Daunt said with half-unwilling admiration. ‘I believe it’s a good notion.’

  ‘You see, if we were to search for these men thoroughly and fail to find them, it would greatly strengthen my theory. On the other hand, if we found them we would be sure of what we are up against, for if Mr Cosgrove took any one of the drives, his statement must be true. Will you try to find them, Jimmy? Or’—her eyes brightened eagerly—‘let’s do it together. Would you mind?

  ‘Mind?’ he echoed. ‘Dear girl, what do you take me for? I’m ready to begin now—in collaboration with you, that is.’

  ‘Dear Jimmy, you are so good. I can never thank you enough.’

  ‘What utter rubbish. Now let’s get to work. Have you made any plans?’

  ‘I thought perhaps we could get lists from the taxi companies of the men on the various stands. Then I thought we could see all those on the stands nearest the three starting points. If it was none of these could we not send a letter to each driver in London—get some office supplies place to do it, you know? If this failed we might try newspaper advertisements.’

  ‘Excellent. We could get the lists of the men through Tanner, if he would give them. I’ll ring him up now.’

  Inspector Tanner was at the Yard. On Daunt satisfying him as to the reason of the demand, he promised to have the information looked up and supplied.

  The next day the lists came and the cousins set off to commence their investigations. They saw a number of the men on the stands in question, others at the depots and still others at their homes. After three strenuous days they had gone over them all. But they learnt nothing. None of the men had driven Cosgrove.

  ‘It’s hopeful,’ Lois announced as they dined together that evening, ‘but we must now try the circular.’

  They drafted a letter offering a reward of £5 for information as to the identity of the man who had driven a fare answering to Cosgrove’s description on any of the three trips in question. With this Daunt called to see Tanner on the following morning. He told him what they had done, and what they proposed, and asked for a complete list of the taxi and cab-drivers of London. Tanner, nothing loath to have his own conclusions verified, had the information made out. Then Daunt went to an office supplies firm in New Oxford Street, and arranged for a circular to be sent to each man on the list—several thousand.

  Two days passed and there was no answer, but on the third day a taxi-driver giving his name as John Hoskins called at Daunt’s office. Jimmy saw him at once.

  ‘It was abaht this ’ere letter,’ said the man. ‘I guess I’m the man you want.’

  ‘Yes? You drove a fare on one of those trips on that Wednesday evening?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I were just passing out of King’s Cross after setting down a lady and gent, when the gent ’e hails me, “Engaged?” ’e asks. “No, sir,” I says. “174B Knightsbridge,’’ ’e says. I drove ’im there, and that’s all I knows abaht it.’

  Daunt opened a drawer and took out half a dozen cabinet photographs, which, in unconscious imitation of Tanner, he had procured. One was of Cosgrove, the others of men as like Cosgrove as Jimmy could find.

  ‘Is the man you drove among those?’ he asked, handing them over.

  The driver glanced over them and unhesitatingly picked out Cosgrove’s.

  ‘That’s ’im, mister,’ he said decisively.

  ‘And what time did you pick him up?’

  ‘Abaht 7.30. I left ’im in Knightsbridge at a quarter to eight.’

  ‘That’s all right, my man. It’s what I wanted to know. If you give me your name and address I’ll give you the five pounds.’

  Jimmy telegraphed the news to Lois at Halford, using for the benefit of the postal officials a code on which they had previously agreed. The information, he feared, would be a heavy blow to her. She had so confidently made up her mind that Cosgrove was the guilty man, and here was proof—to Daunt it seemed final and conclusive proof—of his innocence. Even Lois herself had admitted that if Cosgrove had indeed returned to his rooms after leaving King’s Cross, it would have been impossible for him to have visited Luce Manor—times and distances made that certain. Miss Belcher’s confirmation of his visit to the Follies, and the discovery of the other two taxi drivers were therefore not required. As matters stood, Cosgrove’s innocence was demonstrated.

  So Daunt reasoned, but not so Lois Drew. As she tossed sleepless on her bed that night she racked her brains for some flaw in the case, some loophole that might save her lover. But the more she thought it over, the more hopeless it seemed. As dawn brightened slowly into day she had to admit herself beaten. And then, just as a delightful drowsiness began to creep over her restless, wearied body, an idea flashed into her mind. She remained motionless, hardly daring to breathe as its full significance gradually dawned upon her. When it did so all chance of sleep vanished. Her eyes became very bright, and she laughed contentedly to herself.

  She travelled to town by an early train and was in Daunt’s office soon after it opened. She received his condolences quietly, then startled him by saying demurely:

  ‘I want you to send out another circular to the taxi-men, Jimmy. I have it here.’

  The paper she handed him read:

  ‘TEN POUNDS REWARD

  ‘THE above reward will be paid to the taxi driver who picked up a fare’—here followed a description of Cosgrove—‘about 7.50 on Wednesday evening, 7th July, in or near Knightsbridge, on his identifying the man picked up from a photograph, and saying where he was set down. Apply—’ and here followed Jimmy’s address.

  ‘But my dear girl,’ the latter objected, ‘we have already sent that out, or practically that.’

  ‘Never mind, Jimmy,’ she said, with one of the brilliant smiles that lit up her face and made it momentarily beautiful. ‘Do this for me, and don’t ask questions.’ Before he realized what she was going to do, she had kissed him lightly on the forehead, and with a whirl of skirts was gone.

&nb
sp; ‘By Jove!’ said Jimmy weakly to himself as the door closed. ‘What bee has she got in her bonnet now? At any rate she might have waited and explained.’ But he did what he had been asked, and two days later the new circular was in the hands of the taxi-men.

  And it bore early fruit. Only a few hours after its distribution there was an answer. A small, sallow, rat-faced man in a peaked cap and leather coat called to see Daunt.

  ‘You think you picked up the man described in the letter?’ asked Jimmy, as he produced his six photographs. ‘Was he one of these?’

  Like his confrère of a day or two earlier, the man glanced over the cards and unhesitatingly drew out Cosgrove’s portrait.

  ‘That’s ’im, mister,’ he also said decisively.

  ‘Where exactly did you pick him up?

  ‘In Knightsbridge, not far from Piccadilly.’

  ‘At what time?’

  ‘About ten minutes to eight.’

  ‘And where did you set him down?’

  ‘Over thirty miles away—at a cross-roads away beyond Luton.’

  James Daunt sprang excitedly to his feet.

  ‘What?’ he roared. ‘Where did you say?’ Here, surely, was the impossible! All were agreed that Cosgrove could not have made the run in the time, and yet, it now seemed, he had done so. And then the thought of the tremendous consequences of this discovery overwhelmed every other consideration. If Cosgrove had really been to Luce Manor, particularly after his own denial, he must unquestionably be guilty. And if he were guilty, Austin was innocent. Jimmy believed he now held the evidence which would save his client.

  He thought rapidly for a few seconds.

  ‘At what hour did you reach this cross-roads?’ he asked.

  ‘About quarter-past nine, sir. I remember noticing when I was making up the money.’

  And the bogus servant met Austin at the Old Ferry about then! Truly this was a great find!

  ‘Are you engaged within the next hour or two?’ Jimmy went on.

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Very good. Will you drive me to this cross-roads? I’ll make it worth your while.’

  They stopped at a post office and Jimmy sent a telegram to Lois asking her to be at the end of the Old Ferry lane at midday. Then the run began.

  As the vehicle slipped quickly through the traffic, Daunt chuckled with delight. Though he did not in the least understand how Cosgrove had managed it, it was at least evident that he had visited Luce Manor before taking the 10.30 to Montrose. And that, Daunt felt more than ever certain, meant his guilt and the breakdown of the case against Austin. Though, to do him justice, Jimmy’s chief joy was the thought of the happiness this would bring to Lois, yet he was human enough to realise the kudos which must come to him personally from the skilful way he had unravelled the mystery. And yet, had he unravelled it? As he looked back he had to admit that every particle of credit must go to the girl. She it was who had suggested the steps which had led to success—she who had evidently guessed the solution which even now still eluded him.

  In about an hour and a half they reached their destination, and Jimmy, who knew the district from his visits to the Drews, saw with satisfaction that the point was where the Halford-London road crossed that which passed over the river bridge above the Cranshaw Falls. From there to the Old Ferry was about ten minutes’ smart walk, and, if the taxi-man’s statement was correct, Cosgrove could therefore have reached Austin’s boat about 9.25. It would take him ten minutes or more to row to the Luce Manor boathouse, so that he would arrive there, say, between 9.30 and 9.40. This was quite sufficiently in accordance with the statement of Lucy Penrose and young Potts that they had seen the boat arriving about half-past nine. Jimmy recognised delightedly that the whole thing was working in.

  It was still about quarter to twelve, and Jimmy had the taxi run slowly on to the Old Ferry lane. Lois was already there, and he lost no time in putting her in possession of the facts.

  ‘You guessed that this happened?’ he queried.

  ‘Yes. I suddenly thought of it in bed, the night before I came up to see you.’

  ‘But I can’t make head nor tail of it,’ Jimmy confessed. ‘Now it seems that Cosgrove must have been at the boathouse between half-past nine and ten, and yet he caught the 10.30 from King’s Cross, where he couldn’t have arrived till at least 11.30. The thing’s an absolute puzzle to me. Can you see light?’

  ‘Of course. He never caught the 10.30 at all.’

  ‘But, my dear girl, he did—he must have. You forget the porter at Grantham and the dealer at Montrose.’

  ‘Not at all. He travelled no doubt by the 10.30 from Grantham to Montrose. But that’s a very different thing. I’ll tell you, Jimmy, what’s puzzling you. You haven’t studied your Great Northern time table as I have. The 10.30 is not the only train in the day from London.’

  Daunt waited.

  ‘Well?’ he said impatiently.

  ‘Before that 10.30, as you might have known from Mr Tanner’s story of his own movements, there runs a pick-up train. It leaves King’s Cross at 10.00 and reaches Grantham at 12.28, ten minutes before the 10.30. And that train, Jimmy, stops at three or four stations. It stops’—she leant forward and whispered in his ear with an air of triumph—‘it stops at Hitchin at 10.45!’

  ‘And Hitchin is only six miles from here! Good Heavens, how stupid not to have seen that! Of course that’s what he did! After the murder he motored to Hitchin and caught the relief train. Well, Lois, you deserve all you’re going to get for thinking of it!’

  ‘But we’re not quite out of the wood yet,’ the girl reminded him. ‘We have to find out how he went from here to Hitchin.’

  ‘Probably by the taxi,’ suggested Daunt, and they returned to where the vehicle was waiting.

  But his guess was incorrect. The driver assured them that on reaching the cross-roads Cosgrove had paid him off and he had returned at once to London.

  ‘I thought of that first,’ said Lois, ‘then I thought not, that he would never have let any one man have so much information about his movements. Then I wondered if he wouldn’t have arranged for a vehicle from Halford to pick him up, but I saw that wouldn’t do either. At last I thought the most obvious and indeed the least suspicious plan would be to engage a car in Hitchin to run out for him. What do you think?’

  ‘I believe you are right. Let’s run over to Hitchin now and make inquiries.’

  They reached the town in about quarter of an hour. There they paid off their taxi, having noted the man’s name and address. Then after a hurried lunch they got to work.

  At the first and second garages they drew blank, but at the third they had success. It appeared that late on the Monday evening before the murder, a man, whom the proprietor instantly identified from the photograph as Cosgrove, called and asked for a car to be sent to the same cross-roads near Luce Manor. It was to be there on the following Wednesday evening at 10.15, and was to wait for him and run him into Hitchin. He gave no explanation of his movements, but he turned up at the place a few minutes after the hour named, and was duly brought to Hitchin and set down near the George Hotel. Daunt had the driver sent for, and he stated he had seen his fare’s face in the light of a street lamp when he was being paid, and he also unhesitatingly selected Cosgrove’s photograph as that of the man.

  ‘How far is it from the George Hotel to the station?’ asked Daunt.

  ‘Three minutes’ walk, sir.’

  Here at last was proof—utter and final proof. As the cousins left the garage Jimmy once more congratulated his companion on her success.

  ‘But we’re not finished yet, Jimmy,’ she answered him. ‘We have to find the woman—the false servant.’

  ‘You think it couldn’t have been Cosgrove?

  Lois shook her head.

  ‘He could never have deceived Austin. Besides, the hours don’t work. Cosgrove could hardly have reached the Old Ferry till after Austin had left. In any case Cosgrove would never have had time to make up so well
.’

  ‘I agree with you. Then our next job is, cherchez la femme. Have you any ideas as to how we should start?’

  ‘I don’t know if you will agree with me,’ Lois answered slowly, ‘but I wonder if we should not take Mr Tanner into our confidence. He has been very straight and very kind all through, and I’m sure if he knew what we have learned he would take over the finding of the woman.’

  ‘By Jove, Lois, I believe you are right in this as in everything else. I’ll go and see him now. Would you care to come too?’

  ‘No. I think you could do that best alone. I’ll come to town with you and hear your report.’

  They went up by the Great Northern, and Daunt drove to Scotland Yard. Inspector Tanner was out.

  ‘I am the solicitor who is acting for Mr Austin Ponson—you know, the Halford murder—and I bring some very material information about the case. I should like to see someone in authority.’

  He was asked to wait and presently was ushered into the presence of Chief Inspector Edgar. This official had followed the case with Tanner, and he heard Daunt’s story with thinly veiled amazement.

  ‘It’s the most extraordinary case I have come across for many a year,’ he exclaimed. ‘That makes two suspects, and Tanner’s off to Portugal after a third.’

  ‘Good Lord! To Portugal?’

  ‘Yes, with an extradition warrant and all complete. Well, Mr Daunt, I needn’t say how grateful we are to you and Miss Drew for what you have done, and you may count on your information receiving the fullest and most careful attention. When Tanner gets back, perhaps you wouldn’t mind calling in and having a chat over the matter with him?’

  When Jimmy returned to Lois and told her of the Portuguese expedition she was as utterly amazed as he was. But there was no way of satisfying their curiosity, and they had unwillingly to content themselves to wait till Tanner’s return.

  CHAPTER XI

  A FRESH START

  WHILE Lois Drew and her cousin, James Daunt, were pursuing their researches into the movements of Cosgrove Ponson, Inspector Tanner had been far from idle. We may retrace our steps to the day of Austin’s arrest, and follow the detective as he endeavours to complete his case against the accused.