INSPECTOR KENLY CONTEMPLATES ACTION
Events were coiling themselves swiftly, and Lynton Hora at the very
centre of the coil was inert, motionless, unaware of the web which was
being spun about him. Indeed some of those various parties who were the
actors in the events, the puppets who had been set in motion by Hora's
initiative to spin the web for his own entwining, were unaware even
that they were spinning such a web.
But Inspector Kenly knew. He guessed that there must have been
some master mind behind Guy's exploits, and once he had fixed upon
Lynton Hora as the possessor of that master mind he was a sleuth
hound on the trail. Where Hora was, Kenly was not far distant.
When Hora left Westminster Mansions on the night of Guy's arrival,
Kenly was at his heels. He tracked him to a railway station, back
from the railway station to one of the big London hotels. He did
not leave the premises until Hora had retired for the night. Then
he went back to Westminster Mansions and learned of Guy's arrival
there. He was very curious as to the meaning of the movements of
the two men. He could not watch them both, and though he longed
to have followed the business through without assistance the
risk had become too great. He went in haste to Scotland Yard and
requisitioned the assistance of a subordinate to watch the
Mansions. He himself returned to the hotel. He was still more astounded
next morning when Hora returned quietly to his own abode, and was
totally unable to deduce anything from the fact that Guy had left the
flat at daybreak. It was so mysterious that he could not rest. He went
again to the Yard and asked for another man.
"I think I am on the track of the Flurscheim gang," he explained. "It's
only a case of suspicion at present, and I still have the Foreign
Office business in hand."
"The Yard" was sore at its failure to solve the mystery of the stolen
picture, and a dozen men would have been at the Inspector's command
if he had so desired. He promised to explain later, saying that the
necessity for placing his men was urgent, and so he managed to keep
his information to himself. His instructions to his subordinates were
simple and explicit. Unseen themselves, one was to follow Lynton Hora,
the other was not to lose sight of Guy. If either of the two under
surveillance attempted to leave the country he was to be detained. The
warrant would be forthcoming if needed. Already the Inspector had his
information drawn out. But there were three names in that information,
and the third was that of Captain Marven.
His subordinates instructed in their duties, the detective
hurried off to the Foreign Office. Ever since the Permanent
Secretary had suggested asking Captain Marven for an explanation
Kenly's mind had been busy with the idea. Though he had been
horror stricken at first, the more he pondered over it, the more
advantageous it seemed. Though Captain Marven's name appeared in
his unsworn information, he still doubted whether the King's
Messenger could be hand in glove with the Horas. If the suggested
interview took place in his presence, he would be able to judge by the
Captain's demeanour as to whether he was in any way implicated in the
despatch business. If implicated in that, there would be every reason
to suspect that he must have had a hand in the Flurscheim burglary. So
he sought out the Permanent Secretary and proffered his request. It met
with a ready acceptance. "Captain Marven," said the Secretary, "is next
on the rota for service. If I had not employed him, the mere fact would
have caused comment as well as arousing his suspicions, and I really
could not have employed him while this cloud is hanging over him."
"He will be expecting a call to town then?" asked Inspector Kenly.
"If he gets the usual notice he will be taken entirely by surprise on
finding why he has been summoned."
"I will wire for him, if you like," said the Permanent Secretary.
"No," said the detective, "to-morrow will do."
"Then I'll have a letter sent to him in the ordinary way," said the
Permanent Secretary. "Of course, you understand," he continued, "that
we shall take no action in regard to the despatch business beyond
dispensing with Captain Marven's services. It would be fatal to our
diplomacy if the impression were to get abroad that any of our people
were not absolutely trustworthy."
Inspector Kenly looked aghast. "But, what if he is concerned in the
other business?" he asked. "Mustn't he pay the penalty?"
"The penalty of twenty-four hours' law in which to get out of England,
with someone in charge of him to see that he does not communicate
with the rest of the gang," said the Permanent Secretary drily. "Exile
will be punishment enough in itself."
Inspector Kenly sighed. He saw his case robbed of one of its most
sensational features, and he loved to see sensational headlines to the
newspaper reports of the cases in which he was engaged. He left the
Foreign Office less elate than he had entered it, but, indefatigable
still, he visited each of his subordinates in turn. Neither had any
movement to report. Both Lynton Hora and Guy remained in their own
abodes. Kenly thought that he had earned a little repose. He got into
a cab, drove to the railway station, and took a train to Wimbledon. He
fell into a doze before the train started, and in his dreamy state he
thought longingly of white sheets which were awaiting him at Woodbine
Cottage. For forty-eight hours he had not closed his eyes. He felt
thoroughly wearied.
He alighted at his station and stepped out briskly homewards. Then, as
he turned into Melpomene Road, he saw in front of him a figure which
he recognised. He was so surprised that he pinched himself to assure
himself that he was not dreaming.
"My friend Mr. Jessel, by Henry!" he remarked. "I wonder what he is
doing down in this quarter again."
He moderated his pace and followed Jessel until the latter, on
arriving at the gate of Woodbine Cottage, lifted the latch and
entered. By the time the Inspector had reached the gate Cornelius had
knocked at the door, and as Kenly raised the latch, Mrs. Inspector
Kenly appeared in answer to the summons of her late lodger. But
Mrs. Kenly paid no attention to her visitor. Her glance had
travelled beyond him and rested on her husband, whom she had not seen
for a fortnight. She brushed the astonished Cornelius aside and darted
along the little path. The shadow-man felt quite embarrassed by the
warmth of the connubial greeting. He called attention to his presence
by a little cough. It was successful. Kenly looked over his wife's
shoulder and gave a well feigned start of surprise.
"Blessed if it isn't our friend, Mr. Jessel," he remarked. "Who ever
would have thought of seeing you here again? Anyhow, I take it very
kindly your looking us up so soon. Come in, old chap, come in. You must
excuse the missus and me. I'm only just back from my little holiday,
you know. We don't do this sort of thing in the front garden every
night."
Mr. Jessel smiled and Mrs. Kenly opened her eyes widely. She had never
known her husband to be so effusive with a lodger, new or old. But like
a wise woman she said nothing, but, blushing a little, seconded her
husband's invitation.
"If--if I had known you were expected," said Jessel turning to Kenly,
"I would have postponed my call for an hour. Perhaps you will allow me
to come back a little later."
"Not at all," said Kenly heartily. "Come in and have a cup of tea with
us. I'm sure the wife will be proud to give you one."
Mrs. Kenly opened her eyes wider than ever. She could very well have
dispensed with her late lodger's company, but she had suddenly realised
that her husband must have some hidden reason for his geniality. Had
he not arrived at Jessel's very heels? Scenting a mystery she
played up to the Inspector's lead, and Jessel, visibly gratified by the
warmth of the greeting, no longer rejected the proffered hospitality.
In a very few minutes he was seated at the detective's table doing
justice to the delicacies which Mrs. Kenly produced from larder and
cupboard in honour of her lord's return.
He had soon revealed the motive for his call. He wanted to know if the
room he had occupied was still unlet, for, if so, he desired, having
suddenly lost his situation, to return to the place where he had been
so comfortable. Mrs. Kenly hardly knew what to reply. She was already
in negotiation with another party. But her inclination towards so
quiet and well behaved a lodger as Mr. Jessel, strengthened by the
surreptitious nod of approval from her husband, ultimately led to her
declaring that she thought the negotiations in progress might be broken
off and Mr. Jessel installed in his former quarters.
Cornelius was delighted, and said so.
"I should like to come in this very night," he said. "I have nowhere
but an hotel to go to, and I never can sleep at an hotel."
Again in obedience to her husband's mute request Mrs. Kenly, after
a decent amount of hesitation, acceded to his wishes, and when the
shadow-man at last left them it was merely to fetch his baggage.
Mrs. Kenly accompanied the returned lodger to the door, and when she
returned to the parlour she found that her husband had disappeared.
"Well, I do think he is not treating me quite fairly," she murmured,
and unaccustomed tears rose to her eyes. But they dried rapidly as she
heard a thud on the floor of the room overhead and recognised the
fall of a boot. She hastened upstairs and found her husband already
half-undressed.
"Whatever in the world is the matter, Joe?" she asked. Inspector Kenly
grunted.
"Can't keep my eyes open any longer, not if you were to prop up the
lids with steel bars, Loo," he answered.
His eyes were not so closely shut, however, that they were unable to
detect the disappointment which was expressed in his wife's face. He
caught her in his arms and imprinted a couple of kisses on her lips.
"I haven't had a wink of sleep for forty-eight hours," he said, "and I
only wish I could do without for another forty-eight. But a nap while I
get the chance will make another man of me. Now listen, Loo. What time
did Jessel say he was coming back?"
"He said he was afraid that it would not be much before midnight,"
replied Mrs. Kenly.
"Give me a call at 11.30, then," said Inspector Kenly, and he tumbled
into bed and gave a huge sigh of relief. Then he raised his head. "If
he gets back earlier call me."
"But what makes you so interested in Mr. Jessel?" she asked, unable any
longer to restrain her curiosity.
"Come here, Loo," said Kenly, and as his wife drew near he whispered,
"That young man is mixed up in some way with the Flurscheim burglary.
No, don't interrupt. I haven't time to tell you all about it, and that
is much more than I ought to have told you. Now you know why I was so
anxious that you should get him back here."
"But suppose he doesn't come back," said Mrs. Kenly.
"He will come back right enough," answered the detective drowsily as he
laid his head again upon the pillow.
"But," said Mrs. Kenly, and then paused. Her husband's eyes had closed.
His mouth was slightly open. In another few seconds an unmistakable
snore made itself heard. Mrs. Kenly drew the blinds and noiselessly
withdrew downstairs. She was excited, but not too excited to neglect
her ordinary duties.
The hours passed slowly. When ten and eleven had gone without any sign
of Jessel she began to be alarmed. Still he had said he might not be
back until midnight. At half past eleven she aroused her husband,
thoughtfully taking with her a cup of tea. He was sleeping so soundly
that she was compelled to shake him before he could be aroused. She had
just succeeded when the sound of a cab drawing up in the street outside
the garden gate arrested her attention. Kenly heard it too, and sprang
out of bed.
"Keep him talking until I come down," he said.
The next minute the modest knock at the door announced Jessel's
arrival, and Mrs. Kenly hurried downstairs to let him in.
"Half afraid I should have found you all in bed," he said as he
entered. "You don't mind leaving the door open while I fetch my bags?"
By the time he had made two journeys to the cab Inspector Kenly was
standing by his wife's side, and he was inviting the shadow-man to join
him in a nightcap before retiring to rest.
Cornelius was agreeable. He followed his host into the tiny parlour
where Mrs. Kenly produced a bottle and glasses from the sideboard and
a jug of hot water and a lemon from the kitchen.
"It's just like coming 'ome," said Jessel.
"We'll make you feel at home here, right enough," replied the Inspector.
When a little later Mrs. Kenly said good-night and retired Jessel felt
so much at home indeed that he was easily persuaded to take "just one
more" before following her example. He grew quite talkative, yet even
under the detective's skilful guidance he could not be led to speak
upon the one subject which his host was anxious to get him to talk
about. Kenly was afraid to put leading questions lest he should become
alarmed too early.
There was a time for all things, however, and the time came when the
Inspector thought it desirable that his companion should receive a
shock. It arrived when, after Jessel had knocked the ashes out of his
pipe and remarked that he thought it was about time to turn in.
"There's one thing I want to ask you first," remarked the detective
quietly. "Who was the old gentleman, got up like a parson, who came to
visit you here?"
The shot told. Jessel grew suddenly pale and his jaw dropped. "Old
gentleman? What old gentleman?" he stammered.
Kenly did not reply immediately. He walked across the room and
deliberately turned the key in the lock and placed the key in his
pocket. Then returning he took a card from his waistcoat pocket and
laid it on the table before his companion.
"You don't seem to be aware who I am, Jessel," he said pleasantly.
Mechanically Cornelius lifted up the card, and as he read
his face grew longer than ever. He laid the card on the table. Kenly,
noticing his shaking hand, smiled.
"Detective Inspector Kenly from Scotland Yard," said Cornelius, as if
bewildered.
"That's me," declared Kenly. "And I mean to have an answer to the
question I have just asked you." Jessel's confusion was almost pitiable
to witness. The mine that had been sprung upon him took his breath
away. To think that he had been a tenant of a member of the detective
force, sleeping under the same roof, and that the Master had come to
see him there was too preposterous to be believed.
"You--you're joking," he stammered at last.
"Not the least little bit in the world, as you will find out to your
cost, Mr. Jessel, if you don't answer my questions," replied Kenly
readily. Then he added, "I know all about you, so I really think it
will be best for you to meet me in a friendly way."
Cornelius remembered a dozen little schemes of his which had brought
him in cash which would not bear the light of day, and his heart
quailed. He never for a moment imagined that Kenly was merely bluffing.
Still he made an effort in his own defence.
"You--you know nothing against me," he asserted. "I--I've never done
anything wrong." His tone and manner gave the lie to his assertion, and
Kenly began to feel on safe ground.
"You may not think so, but I'm quite sure a magistrate would not agree
with you," said Kenly with conviction. "Still I don't suggest testing
the matter if you will tell me what I want to know."
Cornelius saw no means of escape. He surrendered at
discretion, and when the conference was ended the detective was in
possession of the whole story of the shadow-man's connection with Guy
Hora from the moment when he had been employed by "the Master" to watch
over him until that day when Guy had suddenly paid him a month's wages
and bidden him depart at once.
Long after the conference was ended the detective brooded over the
information which had come into his possession. He could not understand
it. Jessel was manifestly unaware of the identity of the man he called
"The Master" with Lynton Hora. Nor could he suggest any reason why Guy
should have so suddenly dispensed with his services. The detective did
not enlighten Cornelius on the first point, nor did he suggest that the
second fact might have been due to some discovery made by Guy that the
casket containing the stolen miniature had been tampered with. Jessel
had revealed everything, even the momentous discovery he had made, the
discovery he had communicated to Mr. Hildebrand Flurscheim.
Kenly tired of puzzling his brain after a while with theories.
He made his way once more up to his bedroom and resumed
the sleep from which he had been awakened.