Labar's first business was to interview the wife of his temporary
landlord, the retired constable. Into her hands he confided Penelope,
with instructions that the girl was to be fed and then allowed to rest.
"And what are you going to do?" cried the girl.
He grinned. "Have a bath and a shave and put on some decent clothes."
"And then?"
He pressed her hand. "Then I have to attend to Mr. Larry Hughes. I am a
lazy man. If I don't get on with the business while it's in front of me
I'm apt not to do it at all."
Her eyes clouded, and she clung to his hand as though reluctant to let
him go. "But surely you are going to have a rest, too? Can't you leave
this to someone else? You have some of your men down here?"
Labar disengaged himself. "There is nothing at all to worry about, my
dear. I shall take good care of myself now, I assure you. There will
be no more danger than if I was engaged on a rat hunt."
"Trapped rats sometimes bite."
"I propose to do all the biting this time," he laughed. "Be a good
child, and I'll promise to keep well out of any trouble. If they start
shooting, I'll hide behind Malone. He's big enough."
Blowing her a kiss he retired to his own room. His mask of nonchalance
dropped from him as soon as he was away from her sight, to be replaced
by determined thought. It was not likely that what remained to be done
would be so simple as he would have her believe. Spite of everything,
he had no notion within some miles of the house where Larry and his
gang were located--and, if he found the place, it was nothing more than
an assumption that they would still be there. He had first to find
them and, supposing that to be successful, he had somehow to recruit a
sufficient force to deal with them. That would take time.
He was his usual neat self when he emerged to seek Malone. The sergeant
was standing at the door of one of the less fashionable inns puffing at
a disreputable briar pipe, and making non-helpful suggestions to a lad
who was perspiring over the bonnet of an old Ford car.
Malone moved along the cobbled street to meet the inspector. "Bit late
last night, weren't you, guv'nor? I waited till twelve o'clock for
you and then turned in. Just thinking about another start when Barney
there has coaxed the old Lizzie into a reasonable frame of mind. The
places I took her over yesterday were worse than a toothache."
Labar caught him by the arm. "Let's walk a little way, Bill. I want
you to go to the local police station with me. You can do some talking
while I get on to the phone to the Yard."
Briefly he narrated the happenings of the day and night. "What I
propose to do is this," he added. "We must stop every bolt hole in
sight. All the ports must be notified, and particularly those seaside
towns on the south-east coast. I expect Larry has seen to passports,
but, even if he hasn't, it is simple to leave on some of these day
excursions to France without them. We must borrow as many men from the
local forces as we can, and throw a drag-net over the marsh. I am going
to ask the Yard to send down a dozen or so Flying Squad men by car.
They ought to get here in a couple of hours with luck. There's just an
off-chance that we may find our birds still in their nest. Larry was
away yesterday, and the fog no doubt prevented him from getting back.
He'll have a lot to do, when he does arrive."
Malone quickened his step. "You know something else, guv'nor," he
commented. "You're keeping something up your sleeve."
The inspector nodded and glanced over his shoulder. "You've hit it,"
he agreed. "It's only a guess, mind you, but some facts told me by
Miss Noelson rather bear it out. The sea is, she told me, about a mile
away from the house. Larry as you know has his own yacht. I'm not much
of a sailor, but if it was possible to bring that yacht reasonably
near inshore, it would explain how a lot of the stuff that has passed
through Larry's hands got out of the country without our people getting
a smell of it."
"You mean that the house is a depot for stolen goods."
"Exactly."
"Then why shouldn't Larry use the yacht to get away?"
"Because he probably guessed that steps were being taken to keep an
eye on the boat. We knew of the yacht. We didn't know of this hide
out. It might have been risky from his point of view to bring the boat
over while we were on the alert. It might give away his cache without
helping him. But with the events of the past few days, while things
have been getting warm for him, he has probably been taking steps to
have it at hand for his get-away. That's all guesswork. If we weren't
rushed this morning I could probably confirm it. I'll bet you that he
has been sending wires abroad. Anyway, on the off-chance I am going to
ask the Yard to get in touch with the Admiralty, and have a destroyer
off the coast until we clear up. And if there's a fast motor boat
somewhere handy, we might find a use for it."
Malone nodded appreciatively. "I get you, guv'nor."
There were a few complications in getting the search organised, for no
less than three police forces were concerned--the Metropolitan Police,
the Kent Constabulary, and the Sussex Police. In spite of the risk of
a fiasco that might make him a laughing stock, Labar urged that as
many as possible of the local men who took part in the search should
be armed with shotguns. He was confident that the gunmen who formed
part of Larry's retinue would not be taken without a fight. In the
hands of men who were unused to firearms shotguns would probably be
more effective than any deadlier weapons, although the Scotland Yard
authorities assured him that the Flying Squad men would be armed with
automatic pistols.
Once he had put things in train he hired a car, and with Malone and a
couple of local officers he started for the marsh, having arranged a
rendezvous for the larger part of his forces at the inn where he had
breakfasted the preceding day. Guides had been promised from various
sources and it was anticipated that from the description that had been
furnished by Penelope it would not be a matter of great difficulty to
locate the house where she had been held. A body of police were to
start from Lydd to patrol the shore as far as Dungeness. On every road
over which a car might pass from the district, armed patrols of Kent
police were to be established.
Labar's scheme was to make a wide sweep over the marsh and if Larry
was still in the trap he had little doubt of success. But it was some
little time before the police, who had to be collected from a wide
area of country, could be brought together to put his full plan into
operation.
From somewhere the local inspector who accompanied him, routed out
a constable who was said to know the district, and a farmer and a
shepherd picked up on the way volunteered their services. Both these
latter agreed that the house for which search was being made could be
none other that "Mope's Bottom," which stood far away on the marsh, and
which had been rented many years ago by a gentleman from London. It had
borne many years before a local reputation as a haunted house, and was
still avoided after dusk by many of those whose avocations might take
them to the vicinity.
As yet, including Labar and Malone, there were not more than a dozen
men gathered for the expedition. Labar looked at his watch. It would be
an hour at least, and probably longer, before the complete forces would
be gathered.
"Reckon I'll take this shepherd and go and have a look, see," he said
to Malone. "You can explain my ideas if we're not back, Bill, and then
carry on. I'm sure to meet you." He turned to the looker whom he had
decided to take as guide. "How long do you think it will take us to
get to this place? We might go part of the way by car."
"An hour and a half, walking," said the looker. "Maybe twenty minutes
by car--I don't know."
"I suppose they'd see a car coming for miles over this place," said the
detective inspector. "It's as flat as the palm of your hand. And I'd
bet something that they'll be keeping a good look-out to-day."
"If you're bent on going, guv'nor," said Malone, and his tone conveyed
that he thought it a totally unnecessary venture, "why not take the car
as far as you think wise and walk the rest. There won't be any cover
for you though. Why not wait?"
"No, I'll go and have a scout round. You can be easy, Bill. I won't
take any risks I can help. Let's go."
For a mile or so they pushed the car along one of the rough tracks of
the marsh. As the looker explained, the detour was even more extensive
than if they had gone on foot, and the roughness of the going made the
driver wary of anything in the nature of speed. The detective and his
guide descended when the latter observed that within the next mile they
would come within sight of "Mope's Bottom." They made their way over
the pastures and dykes on foot by a more direct, but still devious
route.
Presently they were within view of the dark mass of the house. They lay
on the edge of a dyke and studied it for a while. Through his glasses
Labar could see nothing that gave the slightest indication of life.
There was not even a wisp of smoke from the chimneys, and the windows
were tight-closed. From where they were the angle of the wall hid a
distinct view of the gate, but the detective rapped out an oath as he
tried to confirm an impression that it was open. Could it be that after
all he was too late?
There had always been that possibility, but Labar at the back of his
mind had refused to recognise it as likely. There had been but the most
slender margin of time in which his quarry could have safely got away.
It would be the most uncanny luck if he had succeeded.
He rose to his feet, and with the looker by his side strode on to where
he could get a closer view of the place. This time there was no doubt.
The big wall gates were open.
Labar snapped the glasses into their case and turned to the looker.
"You can get back, my lad. Tell Mr. Malone, or whoever you meet, that
I think our birds have made their get-away. Anyway I'm going on to see
what has happened. Get some of my men to come on the moment they are
ready. Now which is my nearest way to the house?"
He strode on reckless of everything now. He was convinced that the
house was empty. Certain it was that neither Larry nor any of his
associates would have permitted any carelessness at this time. There
could only be one explanation of the outer defences of the place
remaining unguarded when they must know that the forces of the law
would be upon them at any minute.
As he drew nearer his conviction became more certain. But as he reached
the gates some instinct of caution made him step more warily. They
might have left the Alsatian. He pulled out an automatic which he had
procured at Rye, though he had little faith in his ability to use it
effectively, and passed between the gates with his senses vividly on
the alert.
Once within he halted for a second or two and listened with strained
intentness. There was not a sound. Moving on velvet feet, ready to
shoot at the instant, he tried the door of the house. It was fastened,
and he turned his attention to the windows. But whoever had forgotten
the gates the house was tight-sealed. A swift examination showed him
that none of the simple devices by which the fastenings of an ordinary
house might be overcome would suffice here.
With a grim smile he recalled that he had neglected to obtain a search
warrant. He had not even had the warrant for Larry's arrest endorsed by
a local magistrate. But the strict formalities of the law have at times
to be ignored or many rogues would escape. Time enough to put himself
right on these technicalities later. He reversed his pistol and smashed
with the butt through the glass of the morning-room window. Thrusting
his hand carefully through the jagged pane he undid the fastening and
entered the room. It was meticulously neat and tidy. No sign of any
hurried departure here.
Completely satisfied that no living person remained in the house he
pushed his pistol back into his pocket and lit a cigarette. There was
nothing to hurry about now. He would have to wait till his men arrived
in any event.
He moved about the house taking for the moment a superficial if
methodical survey. But as he entered room after room to find each in
applepie order, with nothing that could in any manner be construed
to fit with his theory that the house was a depot for stolen goods,
he puffed more fiercely at his cigarette and his eyebrows drew more
closely together.
"If Larry's had the stuff here he's made a clean sweep or he's hidden
it pretty tight," he muttered. "But he can't have got away with it. It
isn't possible."
Something that Penelope Noelson had said recurred to him, and he made
his way back to the panelled room that he judged to have been Larry's
study. Taking a pencil from his pocket he proceeded to tap methodically
inch by inch upon the walls. A quarter of an hour passed in this
manner and he was stooping to make a fresh start from the bottom of
the wall when he became aware of some slight sound behind him. He gave
no sign that he had heard and continued the tap tap of his pencil as
nonchalantly as ever, considering with strained calculation what his
next move should be.
The even voice of Larry Hughes broke on his ear. "No use trying to
deceive the astute Mr. Labar. You've guessed right. There is a secret
panel in this room. But as you see you started at the wrong end. And
rather than wait the arrival of your friends we have decided to show
you everything ourselves. Keep very still, please. My friend Mr. Bungey
is a hasty man. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to
you."
Still stooping the detective permitted his gaze to swing slowly round.
Before an open panel in the woodwork stood Larry Hughes and Billy
Bungey each with a levelled pistol in his hand.