THE POLICE TAKE ACTION
"What have we done, Neil?"
Joyce put the question with a calmness that was truly delightful.
"It seems to me," I said, "that we've torn it badly." Then, with a
last look at Sonia's retreating figure, I added: "Come inside, and
I'll try to explain."
We entered the hut, where the floor was still strewn with the
fragments of Joyce's letter. She seated herself on the edge of the bed
and waited patiently while I took a couple of turns up and down the
room.
"Joyce," I said, "I deserve kicking. I'm not sure I haven't messed up
the whole business."
"Tell me," she said quietly. "I know about Latimer already; I saw
Tommy at the flat this morning."
"Well, that simplifies things," I said; and without wasting any
further time in self-reproaches, I plunged straight into the story of
Sonia's surprise visit and its abrupt and spirited ending.
"How I could have been such an ass I don't know," I finished ruefully.
"I must have put the letter down on the table after I'd done reading
it, and there I suppose it was sitting the whole time."
Joyce, who had listened to me without interrupting, nodded her head.
"It was just one of those things that had got to happen," she said
philosophically. "It's no good worrying now. The thing is, what are we
to do about it?"
I thought for a moment.
"We must let Latimer know at once," I said. "I'll write out what Sonia
told me--just the main facts, and you must take the letter straight up
to London, and find him as soon as you can. I shall stop here, as he
asked me to."
Joyce's face looked a little troubled.
"What do you think Sonia will do?" she asked.
"Goodness knows!" I said. "She seemed to have some particularly
unpleasant intention at the back of her mind; but I don't quite see
what it is."
"She won't care what she does," said Joyce. "I know exactly how she
feels. Suppose she were to go to the police?"
"She could hardly do that," I objected. "She'd be incriminating
herself."
"But suppose she does," persisted Joyce. "Suppose they come and arrest
you here; Latimer won't be able to help you then."
"I can't go back now, Joyce," I said seriously. "I can't get out of
it just because it might be dangerous to me. After all, it's England
they're scheming against."
"And what if it is?" she returned indignantly. "A nice way England's
treated you!"
I came over to the bed and took her hands in mine.
"Come, Joyce," I said, "you don't really mean that. I want
encouraging, not depressing. All my natural instincts are to look
after myself and let England go to the devil."
Half laughing and half crying, she jumped up and threw her arms round
me.
"No, no, no," she said. "I want you to do the right thing always; but
oh, Neil, I'm so frightened of losing you. I just can't do without you
now."
"Well," I said, "I'm hanged if I can do without you, so we're in the
same boat."
I kissed her twice, and then, sitting down at the table, made a brief
summary of what I had learned from Sonia. Latimer so far knew nothing
of my relations with the latter, so I was compelled to explain how
badly I had behaved in order to account for her visit. I then gave
him a short description of the painful way in which the interview had
terminated, and added the information that I was waiting on at the hut
in the expectation of a visit from McMurtrie.
"You can explain things more fully to him, Joyce," I said. "It's no
good trying to keep anything back now; we've gone too far. The great
thing is to get that letter to him as soon as you possibly can. Tommy
will probably know where he is."
She nodded. "I shall find him all right." She slipped the envelope
inside her dress, and glanced at the watch she was wearing on her
wrist. "There are several things I wanted to tell you," she added,
"but they none of them matter for the moment. If I go at once, I can
just catch the three-thirty."
"I'll come as far as the road with you," I said. "I daren't leave the
hut for long, in case McMurtrie turns up."
We went outside and had a good look round. Sonia had long since
disappeared, and the place wore its usual aspect of utter desolation.
I took the precaution of locking the door, however, and then at a
sharp pace we set off together across the marsh.
"Tell me about George," I said. "How are you getting on with the
elopement plan?"
Joyce smiled. "I think George is growing a little impatient. He wants
to get away as soon as possible."
"Yes," I said; "I have no doubt the Mediterranean sounds attractive
to him. There's a pretty stiff penalty attached to selling Government
secrets if you happen to be found out. Besides, I expect he's still
worrying a lot about me."
Joyce nodded. "He told me last night that I was the only thing that
was keeping him in London. You see I can't quite make up my mind
whether I love him well enough to come away."
"That's unfortunate for George," I said. "Latimer will probably act at
once as soon as he gets that letter, and directly he does I mean to go
straight to Cheyne Walk, unless I'm dead or in prison."
Joyce took my arm. "Neil," she said, "whatever happens you mustn't be
arrested. If you think there's any chance of it you must go on board
the _Betty_ and take her somewhere down the river. You can let me know
at the flat where you are. Promise me you will, Neil. You see if the
police once got hold of you, even Latimer mightn't be able to do
anything."
For a moment I hesitated. So far I had told Joyce nothing of the wild
suspicion about Marks's identity which Sonia's revelations had put
into my head. I didn't want to rouse hopes in her which might turn out
quite baseless. Besides, even if I were really on the right track, and
Marks was the man who had betrayed the gang in St. Petersburg, it was
quite another thing to prove that they were responsible for splitting
his skull. I had nothing to support the idea beyond Joyce's bare
word that she had seen McMurtrie in the flat on the afternoon of the
murder. Sonia's testimony might have been useful, but after today I
could hardly picture her in the witness-box giving evidence on my
behalf.
On the whole, therefore, I thought it best for the present to keep
the matter to myself. I promised, however, that in the event of my
observing anything in the nature of a policeman stealthily approaching
the hut I would at once seek sanctuary on the _Betty_--an assurance
which might have sounded worthless to some people, but certainly
seemed to comfort Joyce.
Anyhow she said good-bye to me with her usual cheerfulness and pluck,
and we parted after a last affectionate kiss in full view of the open
marsh. Then I returned to the hut suffering from that novel and highly
unpleasant sense of loneliness that Joyce's departures had begun to
awake in me.
I don't think there is anything much more trying to one's nerves than
having to sit and wait for some critical event which may happen at any
moment. I have had a good deal of practice at waiting in my life, but
I never remember the hours dragging so desperately slowly as they did
the remainder of that afternoon.
A dozen times I went over what Latimer and Sonia had told me, putting
together their different stories in my mind and trying to think if
there was any point I had overlooked. I could see none. The mere way
in which they had corroborated each other was enough to make me feel
sure that they were both speaking the truth. Besides, everything that
had happened from the moment I had crept in through the kitchen window
at McMurtrie's house pointed to the same conclusion.
I may appear stupid not to have seen through the doctor earlier, but
after all a gang of professional spies is hardly the sort of thing one
expects to run up against in a Devonshire village. A few years ago,
indeed, I should have laughed at the idea of their existence anywhere
outside the pages of a shilling shocker, but my three years in
Dartmoor had led me to take a rather more generous view of what life
can throw up in the way of scoundrels.
Whether they had killed Marks or not, I had little doubt now that they
were wholly responsible for the attempt to murder Latimer. Though I
had good evidence that when it came to the point the two gentlemen
on Sheppey didn't stick at trifles, I could hardly fancy a couple of
German Naval officers deliberately countenancing such methods. If they
had, they certainly deserved the worst fate that even Mr. Gow could
wish them.
Somehow or other my private interest in the affair seemed to have been
temporarily forced into the background. I felt I was probably doing
the best thing I could for myself in throwing in my lot with Latimer,
but in any case his enthusiasm had got hold of me, and at all risks I
was determined to stick to my side of the bargain. I knew that in her
heart Joyce would have hated me to do otherwise.
My chief danger, as she had instantly seen, was the chance of Sonia
betraying me to the police. The latter, who knew nothing of the part I
was playing as a sort of unpaid bottle-washer to the Secret
Service, would at once jump at the chance of arresting an escaped
convict--especially such a well-advertised one as myself. However
improbable Sonia's story might sound, they would at least be certain
to take the trouble to investigate it.
On the other hand, of course Sonia might not go to the police at all,
and even if she did, it was quite possible that Latimer would strike
first and so give me the chance of clearing out.
Anyhow, forewarned as I was, I felt it would be an uncommonly bright
policeman who succeeded in arresting me. In the day-time, so long as I
kept a good look out, anything like a surprise attack was impossible,
and after that night I made up my mind that I would sleep on the
_Betty_. The only thing was, I should most certainly have to deprive
myself of the luxury of a skipper. Useful as he was at taking letters
into Tilbury, it would be decidedly embarrassing to have him on board
if I happened to arrive in a hurry on the beach with two perspiring
detectives in hot pursuit.
At six o'clock, as there was still no sign of a visitor, I decided to
walk over to the _Betty_ and tell Mr. Gow that he could treat himself
to another holiday. It would only take me about half an hour, and in
case McMurtrie turned up while I was away I could leave a message on
the door to the effect that I should be back before seven.
I did this, pinning it up carefully with a drawing-tack and then after
making sure that everything was secure I started off for the creek.
I found Mr. Gow in his usual restful attitude, his head and shoulders
sticking up out of the fo'c's'le hatch, and a large pipe protruding
from his mouth. With the instincts of a true retainer he promptly
removed the latter as soon as he heard my hail, and hoisting himself
up on deck put off in the dinghy.
"I'm not coming aboard," I said. "I only walked over to tell you that
you can have a couple of days ashore. We shan't be using the boat till
Saturday or Sunday."
He thanked me and touched his cap (I could see he was beginning to
think it was rather a soft job he had stumbled into), and then, with
the air of some one breaking unpleasant tidings, he added: "Do you
happen to know, sir, as we're clean out o' petrol?"
I didn't happen to know it, but under the circumstances it was
information I was glad to acquire.
"Can you get me some--soon?" I asked.
He nodded. "I'll bring along a couple o' cans in the mornin', sir, and
leave 'em aboard."
"Any news?" I asked.
"Well, sir, I seed the Dutchmen's launch goin' down this
arternoon--travellin' proper they was too, same as when they swamped
me. I suppose you ain't bin able to do nothin' about that matter not
yet, sir?"
"I'm looking into it, Mr. Gow," I said. "I have a friend helping me,
and between us I think we shall be able to get some satisfaction out
of them. I shall probably have more to tell you on Saturday."
With this answer he seemed quite content. "Well, I'll just run back
aboard and get my bag, sir," he observed. "I reckon I'd better pull
the dinghy up on top o' the bank when I done with her. If any o' them
Tilbury folk should 'appen to come along they won't see 'er then--not
among the long grass."
It was a sensible suggestion on the face of it, but in view of the
fact that I might find it necessary to embark rather abruptly, I
couldn't afford to risk any unnecessary delays.
"Don't bother about that tonight, Gow," I said. "Just drag her above
high-water mark. It's quite possible I may be using her in the
morning."
Having thus provided for my retreat in the case of an emergency, I
returned to the hut by the usual route along the sea-front. I took the
precaution of putting up my head and inspecting the place carefully
before climbing over the sea-wall, but I might as well have saved
myself the trouble. The marsh was quite deserted, and when I reached
the hut I found my little notice still pinned to the door, and no
trace of any one having paid me a visit in my absence.
I remained in the same state of splendid isolation for the rest of the
evening. There was no difficulty about keeping watch, for as soon as
the sun went down a large obliging moon appeared in the sky, lighting
up the marsh and the Tilbury road almost as clearly as if it were
day-time. I could have seen a rabbit a hundred yards off, let alone
anything as big and obvious as a Scotland Yard detective.
At about one in the morning I turned in for a couple of hours' rest.
I felt that if Sonia had gone straight to the authorities they would
have acted before this, while if she was sleeping on her wrath there
was no reason I shouldn't do the same. I had given up any expectation
of McMurtrie until the next morning.
I woke at half-past three, and resumed my vigil in the pure cool
twilight of early dawn. I watched the sun rise over the river, and
gradually climb up into a sky of pale blue and lemon that gave promise
of another radiantly fine day. There was scarcely a breath of wind
stirring, and everything was so deliciously quiet and peaceful that it
almost seemed as if the events of the last three years were merely the
memory of some particularly vivid nightmare.
"Almost," I say, for as a matter of fact I was never for a moment
under any such pleasant delusion. If I had been, I should have had
an early awakening, for at eight o'clock, just as I was thinking of
routing out something in the nature of breakfast, I saw a little black
dot advancing along the Tilbury road, which soon resolved itself into
the figure of my faithful Charles.
He struck off across the marsh and came up to the hut, where I was
standing at the door waiting for him.
"Two telegrams and a letter for you, sir," he said, producing them
from his bag. "They came this morning, sir."
With an assumption of leisurely indifference that I was very far from
feeling, I took them out of his hand. The letter was addressed in
McMurtrie's writing, but I put it aside for a moment in favour of the
two wires. The first was from Joyce.
"Saw L. late yesterday evening. He will act today. Agrees with my
suggestion about the _Betty_ if necessary. J."
I thrust it into my pocket and opened the other.
"A copper come last nite and ask for you. He see Misses O."
For an instant I stared at this cryptic message in bewilderment; then
suddenly the recollection of my final instructions to Gertie 'Uggins
rushed into my mind.
So Sonia _had_ gone to the police, or had at least contrived to send
them a message which served the same purpose. Their visit to Edith
Terrace was probably explained by the fact that she had given them
both addresses so as better to establish the truth of her story.
Anyhow the murder was out, and with a new and not unpleasant thrill
of excitement I crushed up Gertie's wire in my hand and tore open
McMurtrie's letter.
"DEAR MR. NICHOLSON,
"I have been away on business and have only just received your letter,
otherwise I should have come to see you this afternoon. In the first
place allow me to congratulate you most heartily on your success, of
which personally I was never in any doubt.
"For the moment I have left the Hotel Russell, and am staying with
some friends in Sheppey. I shall run up the river in their launch
early tomorrow morning, as I believe there is a small creek close to
the hut where we can put in.
"Please have a specimen of the powder ready, and if it is possible I
should like you to arrange for an actual demonstration, as I shall
have a friend with me who is already considerably interested in our
little company, and would be prepared to put up further capital if
convinced of the merits of your invention.
"You can expect us about high water, between half-past nine and ten.
"Your sincere friend,
"L.J. McMURTRIE."
As I read the signature McMurtrie's smiling mask-like face seemed
suddenly to rise up in front of me, and all my old instincts of
distrust and repulsion came to keep it company. So he was at the
bungalow, and in little over an hour he would be here--he and the
mysterious friend who was "already considerably interested in
our little company." I smiled grimly at the phrase; it was so
characteristic of the doctor; though when he wrote it he could little
have guessed how thoroughly I should be able to appreciate it.
He was also equally ignorant of the complications introduced into
the affair by Sonia. Unless I had been altogether misled by Gertie's
message, it was probable that the police were even now on their way to
arrest me, just as McMurtrie's launch was most likely setting out from
the little creek under the bungalow. There seemed every prospect of my
having a busy and interesting morning.
At this point in my reflections I looked up, and found Charles eyeing
me with an air of respectful patience. I took some money out of my
pocket, and selecting a ten-shilling piece placed it in his grubby but
not unwilling palm.
"You are a most useful boy, Charles," I said, "and you can keep the
change as usual."
He pocketed the coin with a gratified stammer.
"You ain't 'ad time to make no fireworks yourself, sir?" he hazarded,
after a short pause.
"Not yet," I replied; "but it looks as if I should today."
He brightened up still further at the news, and observing that he
hoped there would be some letters to bring the next morning departed
on his return journey.
I went back into the hut and shut the door. Now that matters were
so rapidly approaching a climax, I felt curiously cheerful and
light-hearted. I suppose it was a reaction from the strain and
hard work of the previous week, but anyhow the thought that in all
probability the police were hard on my track didn't seem to worry me
in the least. The only point was whether they would reach the hut
before McMurtrie did. I hoped not, for I was looking forward to an
interview with the doctor, but it certainly seemed as well to take
every precaution.
I started by unearthing the box of powder from outside, and filling up
my flask from it. Then, when I had covered it over again, I collected
all the papers which I had not burned on the previous day, and stored
them away in my inside pockets. Finally I opened a tinned tongue, and
aided by the dry remains of my last loaf, made a healthy if not very
exciting breakfast. I never believe in conducting violent exertions on
an empty tummy.
All this time, I need hardly say, I was keeping an uncommonly sharp
look-out over the marsh. The most likely way in which any one who
didn't wish to be seen would attempt to approach the hut was along the
Tilbury road, and it was towards the last clump of trees, behind which
Sonia had left her car the previous day, that I directed my chief
attention.
Three-quarters of an hour passed, and I was just beginning to think
that McMurtrie would be the winner after all, when I suddenly caught
sight of something dark slinking across the exposed part of the road
beyond the plantation. Standing very still, I watched carefully from
the window. I have excellent eyesight, and I soon made out that there
were three separate figures all stooping low and moving with extreme
caution towards the shelter of the trees.
A sudden and irresistible desire to laugh seized hold of me; there
was something so intensely funny about the strategic pains they were
taking, when all the while they might just as well have advanced
boldly across the open marsh. Still it was hardly the time to linger
over the comic side of the affair, so retiring from the window, I
threw a last quick glance round the hut to make quite sure that I had
left nothing I wanted behind. Then walking to the door I opened it and
stepped quietly outside.
I decided that it was impossible to reach the sea-wall without being
seen, so I made no attempt to do so. I just set off in the direction
of the creek, strolling along in the easy, unhurried fashion of a man
taking a morning constitutional.
I had not gone more than ten yards, when from the corner of my eye I
saw three figures break simultaneously out of the plantation. They no
longer made any pretence about their purpose. One of them cut straight
down towards the hut, a second came running directly after me, while
the third started off as rapidly as possible along the road, so as to
head me off if I attempted to escape inland.
Any further strategy on my part appeared to be out of place. I grasped
the position in one hurried glance, and then, buttoning my coat and
ramming down my cap, openly and frankly took to my heels. I heard the
gentlemen behind shout out something which sounded like a request that
I should stop, but I was too occupied to pay much attention. The marsh
was infested with small drains, and one had to keep one's eyes glued
on the ground immediately ahead to avoid coming an unholy purler. That
was the only thing I was afraid of, as I was in excellent condition,
and I have always been a very fair runner.
When I had covered about a couple of hundred yards I looked back over
my shoulder. I expected to find that I had widened the gap, but to my
dismay I discovered that my immediate pursuer had distinctly gained on
me. I could just see that he was a tall, active-looking fellow in a
policeman's uniform, with a long raking stride that was carrying him
over the ground in the most unpleasant fashion. Unless he fell over a
drain and broke his silly neck it seemed highly probable that he would
arrive at the creek almost as soon as I did.
As I ran I prayed fervently in my heart that Mr. Gow had followed
my instructions and left the dinghy within easy reach of the water.
Otherwise I was in a tight place, for though I could swim to the
_Betty_ all right, it would be impossible to take her out of the creek
in a dead calm and with no petrol aboard for the engine. I should be
compelled to stand at bay until a breeze got up, repelling boarders
with the boat-hook!
Just before I reached the sea-wall I looked round a second time. My
pursuer was now only about thirty yards distant, but it was evident
that his efforts had begun to tell on him. He again shouted out some
breathless advice to the effect that it would be "best" for me to
surrender, but without waiting to argue the point I scrambled up the
bank and cast a hurried, anxious glance round for the dinghy.
Any doubts I might have had about Mr. Gow's trustworthiness were
instantly dispelled. The boat was lying on the mud only a few yards
out of reach of the tide. With a gasp of thankfulness I leaped on
to the saltings, and clearing the distance in about three strides,
clutched hold of the gunwale and began to drag it towards the water.
Just as I reached that desirable element the figure of my pursuer
appeared above the bank. I gave a last savage wrench, but my foot
slipped in the treacherous mud, and I as nearly as possible stumbled
to my knees. That final tug, however, had done the trick. The boat was
floating, and with a wild effort I scrambled in, and seizing an oar,
shoved off furiously from the shore.
I was only just in time. Jumping from the sea-wall, the policeman
fairly hurled himself across the intervening space, and without a
moment's hesitation plunged into the creek after me. I shortened my
oar, and as he made a grab for the stern I suddenly lunged forward
with all the force I could command. The blade took him fair and square
in the wind, and with a loud observation that sounded like "Ouch!" he
sat down abruptly in the water. Before he could recover himself I was
ten yards from the shore, sculling vigorously for the centre of the
stream.
I made no attempt to reach the _Betty_. There was still a dead calm,
and by going on board I should merely have been shutting myself up in
a prison from which there was no escape. My best plan seemed to be to
make for the open river, when I might either pick up McMurtrie and his
launch, or else row across to the opposite shore.
I accordingly headed for the mouth of the creek, while my pursuer, who
by this time had sufficiently recovered to stagger to his feet, waded
dismally back to the shore. Here he was joined by his two companions,
who had evidently been following the chase with praiseworthy
determination.
For a moment I saw them all three consulting together, and then my
friend the policeman started hastily throwing off his clothes with the
apparent intention of swimming across the river, while the other two
came running along the bank after me. They were both in plain clothes,
but the unmistakable stamp of a Scotland Yard detective was clearly
imprinted on each of them.
They soon caught me up, and hurrying on ahead reached the mouth of the
creek, while I was still some twenty yards short of it. I was just
wondering what on earth they hoped to do, when, looking over my
shoulder, I saw one of them scramble up the sea-wall, and begin to
shout and wave his arms as if he had suddenly gone mad.
A few savage pulls brought me up level, and then turning in my seat I
discovered the cause of his excitement. Some way out in the stream was
a small coast-guard cutter with three men on board, two of whom were
at the oars. They had evidently grasped that there was something
serious the matter, for they had brought their boat round and were
already heading in towards the shore.
My position began to look a trifle unhealthy. I was out of practice
for sculling, and if the coast-guards chose to interfere it was
obviously only a question of a few minutes before they would succeed
in rowing me down. For a moment I had some idea of going ashore on
the opposite bank, and again trusting to my heels. Then I saw that my
friend the policeman, who could apparently swim as well as he could
run, was already half way across the creek, and would be on my track
long before I could get the necessary start. On the whole it seemed
best to stick to the water, so digging in my sculls I pulled out into
the main stream.
As I rounded the sea-wall I could hear the man who was standing on
top bawling out my name to the coast-guards, and hurling them frantic
injunctions to cut me off. I cast one swift glance up and down the
river, and as I did so I nearly gave a shout of excitement. A couple
of hundred yards away, but coming up at a tremendous pace, was a large
white petrol launch, which I recognized immediately as the one that
had swamped Mr. Gow.
Whether the coast-guards saw her too I really can't say. I doubt if
they did, for by this time they had evidently realized who I was, and
their whole attention was fixed on preventing my escape. They were
rowing towards me with tremendous energy, the officer in charge
half standing up in the stern and encouraging them to still fiercer
efforts.
Putting every ounce I could into my stroke, I set off down stream. It
was just a question as to whether I could clear them, and I doubt if
any winner of the Diamond Sculls could have shoved that dinghy along
much faster than I did for the next few seconds. Nearer and nearer we
drew to each other, and for one instant I thought that I had done the
trick. Then from the corner of my eye I saw the cutter fairly leap
forward through the water, and the next moment, with a jolt that
almost flung me out of the seat, she bumped alongside.
Dropping his oar, one of the men leaned over and grabbed hold of my
gunwale.
"No go, Mister," he observed breathlessly. "You got to come along with
us."
The words had hardly left his lips when with a wild shout the officer
in charge leaped to his feet.
"Look out, there!" he yelled. "Port, you fools! Port your helm!"
I swung round, and got a momentary glimpse of a sharp white prow with
a great fan of water curling away each side of it, and then, before I
could move, there came a jarring, grinding crash, mixed with a fierce
volley of shouts and oaths.