EXPLAINS A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE
I SPRANG to the ground by the side of the death-car. It was standing by
the side of the road, just as I had left it, its silent owner sitting
rigidly erect, still grasping the lever, and looking fixedly into the
darkness.
"Forrest! Forrest!" I shouted again.
All was silent as the grave.
It was very strange. He had promised to await my return. I looked at my
watch. Altogether half an hour had not elapsed since my departure. Yet
many things might happen in half an hour with such a spirit of death
abroad as I knew to be hovering around. I shivered.
The police sergeant was as much bewildered at Forrest's disappearance as
myself. On our way, I had explained more fully the circumstances under
which we had discovered the crime which had been committed. He knew my
companion by name and reputation, and he was quite at a loss to explain
his absence.
I scanned the road so far as it was revealed by our lights, half
expecting yet dreading to see his prostrate form. But there was nothing
visible. Each taking a lamp from my car, the sergeant and I set out to
search the hedges and ditches on each side of the road. We did so
conscientiously for a hundred yards up and down the road, and on each
side, but found nothing.
When we got back to the car, the sergeant said to me--
"Perhaps Mr. Forrest has found a clue, and thought he would waste no
time in following it up."
The suggestion seemed feasible enough, but just at that moment my glance
fell on something at my feet which put the idea to flight. Lying on the
road was a large button. I picked it up. I saw at once that it had been
torn violently away from the garment to which it had been attached, for
a piece of the cloth had come away with it, I looked at it narrowly--the
cloth was of the same material as the overcoat Forrest had been wearing.
The button had been almost under the wheels of my car, so I backed the
Mercedes a few yards, and looked about for further traces. In the space
thus laid bare there lay a lamp smashed to pieces. I picked up the
frame, and saw that it was one of the lamps taken from the other motor.
Further search only revealed another button similarly attached to a
shred of cloth like the first one I had found. That was all.
The sergeant looked at me and I at him. One thought was in both our
minds, and we gave utterance to it simultaneously.
"The Motor Pirate has been back again."
"You must have scared him away the first time, and on his return to
complete the job he found the inspector here, and----"
The sergeant did not complete his sentence, but glanced apprehensively
up and down the road.
"If he has returned, I don't see what he can have done with Forrest," I
replied.
"Heaven knows!" the man replied, involuntarily lowering his voice. "I--I
begin to believe that this Motor Pirate is--is the Devil."
"Nonsense, man!" I said sharply.
To tell the truth, my own nerves, in spite of the whisky, were in none
too firm a condition; and I knew it would be fatal to allow myself to
become infected by the very obvious funk which had seized upon my
companion. I felt, however, I must be doing something unless I wanted to
succumb.
"Look here," I said, "you wait by the car a few minutes, while I go two
or three hundred yards further up the road, to see if I can find any
other traces."
"I--I would much rather you--you didn't leave me," stammered the
sergeant. "It's bad enough for there to be only the two of us."
"Come, pull yourself together," I replied roughly. "There's nothing to
be afraid of."
"I don't think I can stand being left here alone," repeated the
sergeant.
"Very well; you had better come along with me then," I replied.
He jumped into the car beside me with alacrity, and I started the motor,
though not until I had arranged my revolver handily at my side. We went
for a mile at our slowest pace in the direction of Stratford, and
finding nothing, we returned, and covered the same distance in the
direction of Towcester, with a similar result. Our progress was brought
to a termination by our meeting with a trap containing the doctor, who
was accompanied by a couple of constables. When we recognized who was
approaching, the change that came over the demeanour of the sergeant was
astonishing. All his courage came back to him. He talked to me quite
easily as we returned to the scene of the outrage with the trap keeping
close behind us; and when we pulled up, he took control of the
proceedings as if he had never felt a moment's tremor in his life. He
must have observed my astonishment, for he took me aside and said--
"I was a bit overcome just now, sir. You won't mention it before my
men."
"Certainly not," I answered. "I was only one degree better myself."
"That's enough to make any one feel creepy," he said, jerking his thumb
towards the silent figure.
We did nothing but stand about and talk in subdued tones, until the
doctor had completed his examination of the silent figure by the light
of my lamps. It did not last long.
"Death was instantaneous," he said, as he stepped down from the car.
"The bullet appears to have passed straight along the longitudinal
sinus, and, as near as I can tell, he must have been dead about an
hour."
"You would like to make a more extensive examination, I suppose,
doctor?" said the sergeant.
"If a suitable place were available," he replied.
The sergeant mentioned an inn at a village not far distant, and, the
doctor acquiescing, arrangements were at once made for conveying the
body there, the sergeant and I setting out in advance to provide for its
reception.
I am not going into any further detail regarding the proceedings of that
night. Indeed I can to-day scarcely recall them. I know that I waited at
the inn for a long while after the melancholy _cortege_ arrived, and
that I felt curiously dazed amidst all the bustle caused by the arrival.
I remember eventually driving the sergeant back to Towcester, and making
to him a long statement, which he took down in writing.
By the time I had completed this statement day had dawned. I shall never
forget my impressions of that early morning as I rode home alone. The
birds were twittering in the hedgerows, a soft white mist hung low down
over the meadows, all nature was so serene and peaceful that it was
difficult to imagine that the night which had passed had been so full of
horror and mystery. I felt as one awakened from a dream. But on my way I
passed the deserted motor-car. A constable was beside it, and I pulled
up to speak to him.
"Seen nothing of Inspector Forrest, I suppose?" I asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
I gave him good morning and got on. I made similar inquiries at Fenny
Stratford, and again at Dunstable, still without result. I comforted
myself with the thought that at St. Albans I should certainly hear news
of him. But no. I found the police wild with excitement, but entirely
without any information as to what had become of the missing detective.
I found, however, that they did not share my forebodings as to anything
serious having happened to him. Their view was that he had discovered
some clue, and was hard upon the track of the murderer. I had to give
them a complete history of the events of the night. But I got away at
last, and reached home as tired as I had ever been in my life.
I took a bath as hot as I could bear it, and went straight to bed. I was
dead beat, and I fell asleep instantly.
I awoke some time in the afternoon, and when I had got the sleep out of
my eyes, and the events of the previous night came back to me, I felt
inclined to curse myself for having thought of resting. I felt certain
that if it had been myself who was missing, Forrest would not have slept
until he had discovered something concerning my fate. I made a hasty
meal while dressing, and ordered my car to be brought round. Directly it
appeared I hurried off to St. Albans.
Nothing had been seen or heard there of Forrest, and once more I set out
upon the road I had traversed the previous night. Again I rode as far as
Towcester. I had a chat with the sergeant of police, and found that,
though search parties had scoured the country round for miles, no
intelligence had been obtained. I made arrangements to appear at the
inquest on the following day, and returned to St. Albans. Still no news.
I got home again about seven, sick at heart. I had counted so much upon
Forrest's assistance in the fulfilment of my vow; but that was only a
secondary consideration now. I had grown to like him so much, that the
idea that he had met with any mischance knocked me over completely. I
went into my study and threw myself moodily into a chair. My man brought
me in some whisky, and hovered about until I told him to go.
"You were going to dine at Mr. Winter's to-night, sir, with Mr.
Forrest," he reminded me.
The engagement had completely passed from my memory.
"I shall be unable to go, Wilson," I said.
"They haven't found Mr. Forrest, then, sir?" said the man respectfully.
He was simply brimming over with curiosity.
"No. I'm afraid we shall never see him alive again," I groaned.
"Dear me! Not so bad as that, I hope, sir," he responded
sympathetically, as he still lingered.
"Not half so bad as that, Wilson," remarked a cheery voice just outside
the door.
My man started, and I jumped to my feet with a shout of welcome.
"Forrest! Forrest!" I cried. "Come along in, man."
"Well, if I may?" replied Forrest's voice.
"If you may!" I answered. "Why--what the----!"
My astonishment at the appearance he presented as he entered the room
choked my further utterance.
The man who entered was a veritable scarecrow. A man with a torn coat
and rent trowsers, and a battered hat which barely held together upon
his head. He was covered from head to foot with mud. His face was dirty,
unshaven, disreputable.
"Forrest? Is it indeed you?" I could not but ask, when my speech
returned to me.
"I don't ask you to recognize me until I have had a bath and a shave,"
he replied. "But when I have sacrificed to Hygeia, I expect to be
presentable enough to dine with Mr. Winter to-night. I've been wondering
all day whether I should manage to get here in time. Meanwhile, the
least spot of whisky----"
I could not express my delight at his return, and unthinkingly I poured
out nearly a tumbler of the neat spirit, and felt almost hurt when he
returned all but one finger to the decanter.
"If you give me a dose like that, I shall certainly be unable to
accompany you," he said.
I could curb my curiosity no longer. I burst out with a string of
questions.
"Where have you been? What has happened to you? Why did you disappear?
How----"
He stopped me. "So that's why you gave me all that whisky. You wanted to
make me talk, eh?"
I laughingly disassociated myself from any such intention, and, putting
the curb on my curiosity, I turned him over to Wilson to be valeted out
of the semblance to a tramp.
The process took some time, and when he came downstairs in
irreproachable evening clothes, there was no time for him to give me the
history of his adventures unless we were to miss our dinner.
"And that," declared Forrest, "I absolutely refuse to do; for, with the
exception of sixpenny worth of rum and a crust of bread and cheese,
nothing has passed my lips since dinner last night."
"Then you will be glad to hear that the Winters are punctual people," I
remarked as we at once set out for my neighbour's house.
"I suppose," he said, as we reached our destination, "I may count upon
you not referring to the plight in which I returned to your place? I
should not care for it to get abroad that the Pirate had got the better
of me on the first occasion of our meeting."
"Then you have seen him?" I cried eagerly.
"Seen him!" Forrest ejaculated in reply. "Seen him! After dinner you
shall have a full, true and particular account of all that's happened.
Until then--well, assume you know everything but are not at liberty to
divulge anything."
I was as much at home in Winter's house as in my own, so I did not
trouble to ring and Forrest followed me in. I had forgotten that his
appearance was likely to create as great a sensation there as it had
caused me. I entered the drawing-room first, Forrest being a little
behind. Mrs. Winter, a fluffy-haired little woman with blue baby eyes,
baby lips, and a most engaging little baby dimple, was the centre of the
party gathered there. The other women were Miss Maitland and Mrs.
Winter's twin sister, who reproduced the hair, lips, eyes and dimple
with such exactness that it was always a puzzle to me how Winter had
managed to make up his mind between them. About them were gathered
Colonel Maitland, Mannering, Winter himself, and another man whom he had
brought down with him from town that day. The subject of conversation, I
learned afterwards, had been entirely devoted to Forrest's
disappearance, and when they caught sight of him the effect was
electrical. The ladies all jumped to their feet, the twin sisters
screamed in unison, the men stood stock still. Mannering appeared to be
the most astonished, for he turned pale and his lips became livid.
Before any one could say a word, however, the door opened again and the
butler announced dinner in an impassive voice, which sent everybody into
convulsions of laughter.
We filed into dinner a particularly merry party. Mrs. Winter had
arranged for me to take in Miss Maitland, and the fact that Mannering
obviously resented the arrangement added a great deal to my good humour.
The fact of Forrest being the lion of the evening did not disturb me at
all. Indeed I was glad some one else had to parry the numberless
questions put to him respecting his disappearance.
He fenced them remarkably well, though of course, when cornered, he
could always fall back upon the excuse of his mouth being closed by the
official pledge of secrecy.
Needless to say, only one topic was mooted, and I should not have
referred to it had not the man whom Winter had brought from town said
something which, I found afterwards, had some bearing on future events.
This person was a diamond merchant in his business hours, and after the
ladies had left us, he expressed the opinion that it was a good thing
the Motor Pirate confined his attentions to fellow motorists.
"If, for instance," he remarked, "he were to take it into his head to
hold up the Brighton Parcels Mail to-morrow night, he would make one of
the best-known firms in Hatton Garden feel very sick."
"How's that?" asked Mannering, carelessly. He had quite recovered from
the temporary shock which Forrest's unexpected appearance had occasioned
him.
"Well, I heard they are sending off a particularly valuable collection
of stones by registered parcel post to-morrow," he answered.
"Seems a silly thing to do," commented Winter.
"I don't know about that," was the reply. "Their theory is that the
chances of robbery are infinitely less than by any other method of
forwarding. They have followed the practice for years, and hitherto have
never made a loss. You see, no one knows anything about it except the
principal, who takes the packet to the post office. He registers it at
St. Martin's, and the packet is immediately placed amongst a number of
parcels of all sorts, shapes and sizes; and the chance of a casual thief
selecting that particular parcel, even if he had the chance, are at
least a hundred to one, while it is well known that the postal employee
who steals always lets the registered letter severely alone."
The subject was not pursued further, and soon after we joined the
ladies. The party broke up early, and I was not sorry, for I could see
Forrest was tired and I wanted to get his story from him before he
turned in. But when we were back in my snuggery, I found that he
considered it necessary to report himself at St. Albans. I was on the
telephone, so I suggested its use, and he jumped at the idea. After some
little difficulty we managed to get a message through to the
police-station. Then settling down into an easy chair with a great sigh
of content, he reeled out an account of his adventures.