"Oh, you," said Nancy decisively. "The police will want to know all
about it, so it's just as well you should have a rehearsal."
"The police!" exclaimed Mark. "Good heavens, I hope you haven't been
sending out prussic acid in mistake for magnesia?"
"It's worse than that," said Colin cheerfully. "However, if you hang
on tight to your chair and don't interrupt I think you may be just
able to bear it." He paused. "Joking aside, Mark," he added more
seriously, "we seem to have struck something really ugly in the way
of trouble, and I want your opinion and advice pretty badly."
At the sudden change in his voice Mark sobered down instantly.
"Well, if you mean that, my son," he said, "get on with it at once."
"It's chiefly about Nancy's guardian," continued Colin. "You
remember him, the chap who came to lunch?"
Mark nodded.
Going back to their first meeting in Jubilee Place, Colin began very
carefully and deliberately to relate everything he knew about Major
Fenton, of which Mark was still in ignorance. He described how the
man had originally forced his society upon Nancy by pretending to
have been acquainted with her father, and how, on discovering who
Colin was, he had endeavoured to prejudice her mind against him by
inventing that absurd story about a scandal at St. Christopher's
Hospital. He went on, step by step, to trace the various
developments that had followed--his own inquiries at Scotland Yard,
Fenton's abortive proposal to Nancy, his suggestive meeting with
"Spike" Cooper outside the public house, and the improvised
engagement of Joe Bates in the role of an amateur detective.
Having thus cleared the ground, he proceeded to give a curt account
of what had taken place on the previous evening. He spoke very
quietly and simply, but the details were dramatic enough in
themselves without any word-painting, and it was easy to see the
profound amazement with which Mark drank in his story.
So thunderstruck, indeed, did the latter appear to be that nearly a
minute must have elapsed after Colin had finished speaking before he
attempted to offer his first comment.
"Well, I'm blessed!" he exclaimed. "And they call this a civilized
country!"
"Oh, it's civilized enough," returned Colin carelessly. "If I hadn't
been able to get some bread and milk and a hot bath when I came back
I should probably be down with double pneumonia." He lighted another
cigarette and leaned inquiringly across the table. "Those are the
facts, anyhow, Mark. And now I'll be much obliged if you'll let me
know what you make of 'em."
Mark took off his spectacles and polished them deliberately with his
handkerchief.
"There's one thing that's perfectly plain," he said. "The sooner
Fenton's in Broadmoor the better for you and Nancy."
"You think he's insane then?"
Mark received the question with a stare of astonishment. "Insane!"
he repeated. "Why, what the devil else can he be?"
"You have seen him yourself," persisted Colin. "Did you notice
anything the least queer about him?"
Mark paused. "No," he said slowly. "Now you come to mention it, I'm
hanged if I did."
"Nor I," was Colin's rejoinder. "I quite agree with you that he
ought to be shut up, only I think it's Dartmoor and not Broadmoor."
"But, hang it all," broke in Mark, "a sane man doesn't try to have a
perfect stranger murdered just because he's a little sore at being
turned down by a girl."
"He doesn't," admitted Colin. "There must be some other reason that
we know nothing about, and that's why I'm going to turn the whole
thing over to Marsden. If I thought that it was merely a personal
matter between him and me I'd go round and knock the stuffing out of
him myself."
Mark replaced his spectacles with an air of bewilderment that was
almost comic.
"The more one thinks over it," he said, "the more incomprehensible it
seems. For one thing, why should he connect you with Nancy at all?
You have only seen each other about three times."
There was a pause.
"Well as far as that goes," replied Colin, "he may have a better
reason than you imagine."
Mark glanced at Nancy, who had turned a delicate shade of pink.
"Good Lord!" he exclaimed. "You don't mean----"
"Yes, I do," replied Colin; "we fixed it up last night over the bread
and milk, and I'm so happy that I could get up and dance round the
room."
He stretched out his arm, and taking Nancy's hand across the table,
bent over and kissed the tips of her fingers.
"Well, if that isn't the limit!" ejaculated Mark bitterly. "I leave
my practice in your hands, trusting to your honesty, and when I come
back I find you've pinched the one thing I value most--the only
perfect secretary a doctor ever had."
Nancy turned toward him with a startled expression. "Oh," she cried
remorsefully, "I never knew you'd look at it like that."
Mark got up from his chair, and stepping toward her with a twinkle in
his eyes, laid his hand affectionately on her shoulder.
"My beloved child," he said, "I was only joking. I shall just hate
losing you, and so will Mary, but, thank God, we're neither of us
quite such selfish pigs as to grudge you the happiness you deserve."
He picked up the champagne bottle and tilted the few remaining drops
into his empty glass.
"Colin, my lad," he said, "here's my blessing and my congratulations!
Nancy's a million times too good for you, but----"
As he spoke the telephone bell rang sharply, and Colin, who was
sitting nearest the door, jumped to his feet.
"I'll go," he said. "You finish your speech, Mark. It would be a
pity to break off just when you're getting really truthful."
He hurried out into the hall and took down the receiver.
"Is that 276 Shadwell?"
"It is," he answered.
"Inspector Marsden of Scotland Yard speaking. Is Doctor Gray in?"
"He's not only in, but he's talking to you," returned Colin.
"I thought it was your voice," came the reply. "Look here, doctor,
I've got back a bit earlier than I expected, and I want to see you as
soon as possible. Can you come up to the Yard straight away?"
"I can be there in half an hour," said Colin.
"That will do all right. Don't be later if you can help it. I've
been let in for an unexpected appointment at four o'clock, and there
are several things I'd like to talk to you about first."
"Well, if it comes to that," remarked Colin, "there's something I'm
pretty anxious to discuss with you."
"Anything serious?" rapped out the other.
"Only that somebody tried to murder me last night."
"_Tried to murder you!_ Who was it?"
"Seems to have been a syndicate," was the answer. "The principal
parties were two gentlemen called 'Spike' Cooper and Jake Hudson,
both of this parish. The third one was the same cheery sportsman who
kicked you in the tummy."
He heard a muttered exclamation at the other end of the telephone.
"You had better not say any more now. Come along up immediately. If
this is true it's of the utmost importance."
"Yes," said Colin drily. "It struck me that way too."
He replaced the receiver, and, turning round, found Mark and Nancy
standing in the doorway.
"I have been summoned to Scotland Yard at once," he informed them.
"Marsden seems as anxious to see me as I am to see him."
"Perhaps he's got hold of some clue about the murder?" suggested Mark.
"I shouldn't wonder," said Colin. "I know he went down into the
country to look up the Professor's old servant this morning, and he
certainly spoke as though things were beginning to move." He turned
toward the pegs and started to unhook his hat and coat.
"How are you going to get there?" inquired Mark.
"Oh, I've brought the car along with me. It's only round the corner
at Higgins's place."
"You'll promise to be careful, won't you?" said Nancy rather
anxiously. "I hate to let you out of my sight until those three men
have been arrested."
"You needn't worry about them," returned Colin with a laugh. "They
must have found out by now that they made a bloomer last night, and
it's a hundred to one that the whole lot have skedaddled."
"Major Fenton won't have run away," persisted Nancy. "He has no idea
that you saw him talking to Cooper, and there's nothing else to
connect him with the affair."
"No, that's true," admitted Colin. "He must be feeling as sick as
the devil, and probably in a blue funk as well, but the only thing he
can do is to sit tight and hope for the best."
"Anyhow, he'll be lying fairly low for the moment," agreed Mark.
"You bung along off, my son, and get back as soon as possible.
You'll find Nancy and me here, unless we've burst with curiosity."
It was exactly on the stroke of a quarter past three when, with a
sharp blast from his horn, Colin shot past the policeman on duty and
pulled up neatly in the centre court of Scotland Yard. Before he
could attempt to dismount two indignant constables were alongside of
him.
"Who are you?" demanded one. "Don't you know it's against the
regulations to bring in a car without permission?"
"Sorry," said Colin penitently. "The fact is, I've got a very urgent
appointment with Inspector Marsden. He telephoned me to be here at a
quarter past without fail."
"Well, you take my advice and be a bit more careful the next time,"
observed his interrogator, "or as likely as not you'll find yourself
in trouble." He turned to his companion. "Better take him up at
once. The Inspector's in his room."
Climbing out of the car and following his guide, Colin ascended the
flight of stone stairs until they reached the same apartment to which
Marsden had conducted him before. Having inquired his name, the
constable rapped loudly, and in answer to a peremptory invitation
pushed open the door and stepped briskly forward.
"Doctor Gray to see you by appointment, sir."
Marsden blotted the letter that he was writing and got up from his
desk.
"Come along in, doctor," he called out; and then, as Colin entered,
he pulled forward a chair and motioned the constable to withdraw.
"Take that seat," he added, directly the door was shut. "There's no
time to waste, and I want to hear your story before we discuss
anything else. Don't hurry, though; tell it me in your own way, just
as you did when you described the murder."
Colin laid his hat on the floor, and, thrusting his hands in his
pockets, commenced to speak.
In very much the same words that he had used to Mark he repeated the
whole history of Fenton's relations with Nancy and himself, taking
the utmost care to omit nothing which might have any conceivable
bearing on the case. Then, still in the same methodical and detached
fashion, he went on to relate the remainder of his story, while all
the time the Inspector sat by in grim silence, his hard blue eyes
fixed intently on his companion's face.
"I don't know how it strikes you," observed Colin, when he had quite
finished, "but Nancy and I have been chewing it over pretty
thoroughly, and we both think that it would take a damn sight more
than a mere fit of jealousy to make Fenton risk his neck. We feel
certain that there must be something much bigger at the back of it
all, but beyond that we're absolutely gravelled."
Without replying, Marsden leaned forward and pulled open a drawer in
his desk. He turned over some of its contents, and then, taking out
an unmounted photograph, handed it to Colin.
"Do you recognize that?" he asked.
Colin sat up, with a sudden start of surprise.
"Recognize it!" he exclaimed. "Of course I do. It's 'Spike' Cooper."
"You're sure?"
"Positive. You don't suppose I'd forget his infernal face?" He
inspected the picture carefully for several seconds, and then passed
it back. "Where did you get hold of this?" he asked.
"It was sent to me three days ago by the Canadian police. Perhaps
you would like to hear the letter that came with it."
He dived into the drawer again, and produced an official-looking
sheet of blue paper.
"With reference to your inquiry of the 3d ult.," he read, "we now
enclose the photograph, record, and finger prints of Luke Hammond,
which were not included in our reply of the 15th. We have since
ascertained that Hammond has left Canada and is probably in London."
"And what _is_ his record?" demanded Colin.
"Quite a useful one in its way," was the dry answer. "Two terms of
imprisonment for housebreaking and one of ten years for robbery with
violence. Our friends at Montreal seem to regard him as one of the
show cases in their collection."
"Fenton has been in Canada," remarked Colin; "at least, so it said in
that report you gave me. They probably met each other over there."
"Not a doubt of it," returned the detective, "and, what's more, I
shouldn't be much surprised if he came to England on Fenton's
invitation."
There was a pause. "We seem to be getting on," remarked Colin, "but,
all the same, I'm hanged if I can make head or tail of it even now.
Why on earth should a cashiered major and a Canadian crook be
thirsting for my blood?"
Marsden replaced the paper and shut the drawer.
"Doctor Gray," he said, "have you any objection to leaving this
entirely in my hands for the next twenty-four hours? I shall give
instructions at once for the arrest of Cooper and Hudson, and you can
take it from me that there are not likely to be any more attempts on
your life. If it would make you more comfortable, I will arrange for
you to be shadowed from the moment you leave this office."
"Good heavens, no!" exclaimed Colin. "It would make me feel as if I
were a co-respondent in a divorce case. I should like to have had
five minutes alone with the blighter who hit me on the head, but if
it can't be managed I'm quite content to leave him to you." He took
his hands from his pockets and sat up in his chair. "And now," he
added, "what have you got to tell me? I'm dying to hear if you found
out anything from this chap Kennedy."
Marsden glanced at his watch. "I have found out a good deal," he
said, "and it was because I was anxious to talk it over with you that
I asked you to come round. As things have turned out, however, it
seemed to me more important that I should hear your story first. I
am afraid now that we must put off our discussion until to-morrow. I
have an appointment with the Commissioner in a few minutes, and it
will probably be a couple of hours before I am free." He paused. "I
don't mind telling you one thing, doctor, and that is that there are
going to be some developments in this case that will probably give
you the biggest surprise of your life."
Colin received the news with apparent calmness. "Really!" he
observed. "Well, I ought to be able to stand them. I've had plenty
of practice one way and another."
Marsden turned to a memorandum tablet that was lying on his desk, and
studied it for a moment in silence.
"I want you all three to be here at two o'clock to-morrow
punctually," he said, "you and this man Bates and Miss Seymour." He
picked up a pencil. "By the way, has Miss Seymour any other
Christian name besides Nancy?"