The Riddle of the Frozen Flame

by Thomas W. Hanshew and Mary E. Hanshew

  CHAPTER XIII

  A GRUESOME DISCOVERY

  Through the long watches of the night Cleek sat there thinking, his chinsunk in one hand, his eyes narrowed down to pin-points, the whole alertpersonality of the man vitally dominant. No, he would not tell any oneof the happening except Dollops and Mr. Narkom. It would only invitesuspicion, throw the house into a state of unrest which was the verything that he was anxious to avoid. As dawn broke, and the danger forthat night was past, he got to his feet, plunged his face into coldwater, which cleared away the cobwebs, undressed, and then tackled thequestion of the injured bedding.

  The mattress could be turned--that was easy enough, and the slit wouldprobably not be noticed. The bedclothes, too, might be turned the otherway up, and with care the injured parts tucked in tightly at the bottom.It would leave them a little short at the top perhaps, but that couldn'tbe helped. Suspicion must be allayed at all costs. Time enough to bringthe would-be murderer to justice when he had solved the riddle in itsentirety. There were two pillows, so he took the damaged one, tore offits case, and tucked that away in his kit-bag, pushed the bag under thebed, and then set about the remaking, with some small success. At leastfor the time, the incisions in the blanket and sheets would not benoticed, and in the morning he would invent some excuse to have themchanged.

  The early morning cup of tea, brought at eight by a dainty chambermaid incap and starched blue dress, supplied the need quite nicely. He nodded toher as she left the room, and then, when the door closed, upset the cupon the coverlet, letting the liquid soak through. Then he got up anddressed himself with something like a smile upon his lips.

  At breakfast, a housemaid waited upon them, and Cleek ate lustily, withthe appetite that is born of good health, and a mind at peace with theworld. Toward the end of the meal, however, Borkins came in. He glancedcasually over the group at the table, let his eyes rest for a moment uponCleek, and then--dropped an empty dish he was carrying. As he stooped torecover it, all chance of seeing how the appearance of the man who had sonearly met his death last night affected him, was gone. He came up againstill the same, quiet, dignified Borkins of yore. Not a gleam of anythingbut the most obsequious interest in the task before him marred thetranquillity of his features. If the man knew anything, then he wasa fine actor. But--did he? That was the question that interested Cleekduring the remainder of the meal.

  After it was over, Mr. Narkom and Sir Nigel went off to the smoking roomfor a quiet cigarette before setting to the real business of the day, andCleek was left to follow them at his leisure. Borkins was pottering aboutthe table as the two men left the breakfast room, and Cleek stood in thedoorway.

  "Peaceful night, last night, eh, Borkins?" he said with a slight laugh."That's the best of this blessed country life of yours. Chap rests sowell. Talk about the simple life--" He broke off and laughed again,watching Borkins pick up a clean fork and carry it to the plate-basketupon the sideboard.

  The man retained his perfect dignity and ease of manner.

  "Quite so, sir. Quite so. I trust you slept well."

  "Pretty well--_for a strange bed_," returned Cleek with emphasis, andturned upon his heel. "If you see my man you might send him along to me.I want to arrange with him about suits that are coming down from mytailor's."

  "Very good, sir."

  Cleek joined the two men with something akin to admiration for thebutler's impassiveness in his heart. If he knew anything, then he wasa past master in the art of repression. On the other hand perhaps hedidn't--and there was really no reason why he should. Eavesdropping wasa common enough fault with the best of servants, and curiosity a failingof most men. Borkins might be--and possibly was--absolutely innocent ofany knowledge of last night's affair. And yet, how did the knowledge,that he was not altogether what he seemed, leak out? It was a puzzle towhich, as yet, Cleek could find no answer.

  Mr. Narkom greeted Cleek enthusiastically when he joined him.

  "I'm off on a tour of investigation in a few minutes," he announced."Petrie and Hammond arrived last night, as you know, and are putting upat the village inn. I'm meeting them at the edge of the Fens at teno'clock. Then we're going to have a good look to see if we can find thebodies of the two men who have vanished. You coming along?"

  Cleek nodded, and the queer little one-sided smile travelled up hischeek.

  "Certainly, my dear Lake. I'd be delighted. Sir Nigel, of course, hasother business to attend to. It's ten minutes to ten now. If you're goingyou'd better step lively. Ah," as Dollops's figure appeared in thedoorway, "if you'll excuse me, Sir Nigel, I'll just have a word or twowith my man." His voice dropped several tones as he addressed the boy andthey moved away together. "Mr. Lake and I are going out for a walk acrossthe Fens. Petrie and Hammond will be there at ten. I'd like you to join'em. Better nip along now."

  "Yessir."

  "And--Dollops"--he beckoned him back and bent his head to the lad'sear, speaking in a voice that none heard but the one it was intendedfor--"keep a sharp look-out. I had a narrow escape last night. Someonetried to stab me in bed but he got my pillow instead--"

  "_Gawdamercy_, Guv'nor!--"

  "Ssh. And there's no need to worry. I'm still here, you see. But keepyour eyes and your ears open, and if you see any strange men hangingaround, report to me at once."

  Dollops's usually pale, freckled countenance went a shade paler, and hecaught at Cleek's arm as though he were loath to let it go.

  "But, sir," he whispered in a hoarse undertone, "you won't go a-knockingabout alone, will yer? If anythin' were to 'appen to you--I--I'd go alongand commit that there 'harum-scarum' wot the Japanese are so fond o'doin'--on the spot!"

  Cleek could barely restrain a laugh. The whispered conversation had takenthe merest fraction of a minute and, during it, he had had full view ofthe green baize door which led down to the servants' quarters. Borkinshad gone through it some time before. Then he heard the butler's deep,measured tones in the garden, and caught sight of him talking to one ofthe grooms in the courtyard. He heaved something like a sigh of relief.

  Dollops left, and Cleek then rejoined the two men who stood talkingtogether in low, earnest tones.

  "Now," said he, briskly, "if you're ready, Mr. Lake, I am. Let us be off.Sir Nigel, I hope by dinner time to have some sort of news to impart toyou, whether good or ill remains to be seen. By the way, have you, inyour employ, a dark, square-faced individual, with close-set eyes and astraggling moustache? Rather undershot, too, I believe? It would beinteresting to me to know."

  Merriton considered for a moment.

  "Tell you the truth, Mr. Headland, I can't fit the description inanywhere among the people here," he said after a pause. "Dimmock'sfairish--though he _has_ got a moustache, but it's a military one, andBorkins is, of course, smooth shaven. The other men are clean-shaved,too, except for old Doughty, the head gardener, and he wears a full, graybeard. Why?"

  Cleek shook his head.

  "Nothing important. I was only just wondering. Now then, Lake, you'll belate if you loiter any longer, and our--er--friends will be waiting.Good-bye, Sir Nigel, and good luck. Lunch at one-fifteen, I take it?"

  He swung upon his heel and linked his arm with Mr. Narkom's, then, takinghis cap from a peg on the hall stand, clapped it on his head and wentdown and out to the task that awaited him, and a discovery which was,to say the least of it, startling in the extreme.

  They walked for some time in comparative silence, puffing at theircigarettes. Then of a sudden, Cleek spoke.

  "I say, old man, you'll want to keep a close look-out upon your ownpersonal safety," he said, abruptly, wheeling round and meeting hisfriend full in the eyes.

  "What d'you mean, C--Headland?"

  "What I say. Someone's got wind of our real purpose here. I have a gravesuspicion that that Borkins was listening at my door last evening whenI was talking to Dollops. Later--well, somebody or other tried to get mein bed. But I was one too many for him--"

  "My dear Cleek!"

  "Mr. Lake
, I beg of you--not so loud!" ejaculated Cleek. "There are earseverywhere, which you as a policeman ought to know. Do remember my nameand don't go losing any sleep over me. I can take care of myself, allright. But I had to do it pretty energetically last night. A thoughtfulvisitor stabbed the pillow I'd placed in bed instead of my humble self,and cut an incision three inches deep. Hit the mattress, too!"

  "Headland, my God--!"

  "Now, don't take on so. I tell you I can take care of myself, but you dothe same. No one in the house knows a word about it, and I don't intendthat they shall. The less said the better, in a case like this. Onlythose Frozen Flames are trying to eat up something that is either veryserious or very money-making. One thing or the other.... Hello, here weare! Mornin' Petrie; mornin' Hammond. All ready for the search I see."

  The two constables, clad in plain clothes and accompanied by Dollops,were holding in their hands long pitchforks which looked more as if theywere ready for haymaking than for the gruesome task ahead of them all.Petrie carried upon his arm a roll of rope. They swung into step behindthe detectives, across the uneven, marshy ground.

  It was a chilly morning, and inclined to rain. Across the flat horizonthe mist hung in wraithlike forms of cloudy gray, and the deep grass intowhich they plunged their feet was beaded with dew. For a time they walkedon quietly until they had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile. Then Cleekhalted.

  "Better separate here," he said, waving his arm out across the sweep offlat country. "Dollops, you take the right with Petrie. Hammond, you'dbetter try the left. Mr. Narkom and I will go straight ahead together.Any discovery made, just give the usual signal."

  They separated at once, their feet upon the thick marshy ground leavingnumberless footprints in the moist rank grass, which crushed under themlike wet hay. Their heads were bent, their eyes fixed upon the ground,their faces bearing a look of utter concentration. Cleek watched themmoving slowly across the wide, flat reaches of the Fens, stopping now andthen to poke among the rank marsh-grass, and prod into the earth, andthen turned to Mr. Narkom.

  "Good fellows--those three," he said with a smile. "What more can you askthan that? Straight ahead for us, Mr. Narkom. Sir Nigel tells me thepatch of charred grass lies in a direct line with the edge of the Fenswhere we started our search. I'm keen to have a look at it."

  Mr. Narkom nodded, and walked on, poking here and there with his stoutwalking stick. Cleek did likewise. They rarely spoke, simply pushed andpoked and trod the grass down; searching, searching, searching, as hadthose other men upon the night of Dacre Wynne's disappearance. But theyhad searched in vain for any clue which would lead to the elucidation ofthe mystery.

  Suddenly Cleek stopped. He pointed a little ahead of him with his walkingstick.

  "There you are!" said he briskly. "The patch of charred grass." He strodeup to it, stopped and bent his eyes upon it, then suddenly exclaimed:"Look here! Below at the roots the fresh grass is springing up in littletender green shoots. That patch'll disappear shortly. And"--he stoppedand sucked in his breath, wheeling round upon Mr. Narkom--"when you cometo think of it, why shouldn't it have grown up already? There's been timeenough since the man Wynne's disappearance to cover up all those singedends in a new growth. Can't be that it's done on _purpose_, and yet--whyis it still here?"

  "Perhaps some sign or something," suggested Mr. Narkom.

  "Possibly, something of the sort. And if we have signs then there mustbe something human behind all this talk of supernatural agents,"returned Cleek. "Let us take it that this patch of charred grass _hides_something, or marks the way to something, something buried underneath it,or lying near by. Eh--what's that?"

  "That" was a cat-call ringing out across the misty silences from thedirection in which Dollops and Petrie had gone.

  "They've found something!" cried out Mr. Narkom, in a hoarse whisper ofexcitement.

  "Obviously. Well, this other thing will wait. We'll go after them."

  The two of them hastened off in the direction of the repeated cat-call,and soon came upon Dollops bending over something, his eyes ratherscared, just as Hammond arrived from the other direction in answer to thesummons. Petrie, too, appeared rather nervous. As Cleek came up to them,his eyes fell upon the ground, and he stopped stock still.

  "_Gad!..._ Where did you find it?"

  "Here, sir; half buried, but with the 'ead a-stickin' out!" returnedPetrie. "Dollops and I pulled it out and--and 'ere it is."

  Cleek glanced down at the body of a heavily built man, clad in eveningclothes, and already in an advanced state of decomposition. "Looks likeit was that chap Wynne," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Answers thedescription all right. The other man was short and red-headed. And theevening clothes are well cut from what I can see. Must have been ahandsome chap--once.... Well, we'll have to get this very gruesome findback to the Towers as quickly as possible. Got your oilskin with you,Petrie?"

  "Yessir!" Petrie miraculously produced the roll from under his tunic andspread the sheet out. Then they lifted up the body and wrapped it aboutso that the covering hid the awfulness of it from view. Mr. Narkom moppedhis forehead with his handkerchief.

  "Cinnamon, Cleek!" he ejaculated, breathlessly. "Pretty awful, isn't it?Was it much hidden, Petrie? Funny the other people didn't find it whenthey searched!"

  "No, sir--plain as a pikestaff!" returned Petrie importantly, for he feltthe burden of responsibility and hoped that this would mean promotion.Dollops, who was by no means a regular member of the force, simply lookedat Cleek with considerable pride fighting through the natural horror thatthe find had given birth to.

  "Funny thing!" broke in Cleek at this juncture. "The only solution mustbe that the body was placed there some time _after_ death.... Leave it alittle longer, boys, and we'll have a further search in this direction.We may come upon poor Collins in a similar fashion--though thank Heavenhis disappearance didn't happen quite so long ago."

  They took a few steps farther in the same direction and--stoppedsimultaneously. Before their eyes lay the figure of Collins, in hisdiscreet black clothes, his red head against a tuffet of moss, and abullet wound in his temple.

  "God!" said Cleek, softly, and sucked in his breath. "Two of 'em. Andlike this!... Looks like a plant, doesn't it? Poor chap!... And yetMerriton declared that he, as well as others, had searched every inch ofthis ground over and over again. Seems fishy. To find 'em both here--soclose together.... Let's have a look at the other poor chap.... Hmm.Bullet wound through the right temple, too. Small-calibre revolver."

  He bent down and examined the head carefully through his magnifyingglass, then got slowly to his feet.

  "Well, Mr. Narkom," said he, steadily, "nothing to be done at present,but to get these bodies back to the Towers. After that they can take 'emto the village mortuary if they like. But I've one or two things I'd liketo ask you Merriton, and one or two things I want to examine. Gad! it's abeastly task, boys. That sheet's big enough, thank fortune! Cross thepitchforks, Petrie, and make a sort of stretcher out of them, that way.That's right. Now then, forward.... Gad! _what_ a morning!"

  But if he had known just exactly what the rest of that morning was tobring forth, indeed before lunch was served at one-fifteen, he might havehesitated to pass judgment upon it so soon.

  Slowly the cavalcade wended its way across the rank grass....