SUPERINTENDENT BATTLE IN CHARGE
It was ten o'clock on the following morning. The sun poured in through
the windows of the library, where Superintendent Battle had been at
work since six. On a summons from him, George Lomax, Sir Oswald Coote
and Jimmy Thesiger had just joined him, having repaired the fatigues of
the night with a substantial breakfast. Jimmy's arm was in a sling, but
he bore little other trace of the night's affray.
The Superintendent eyed all three of them benevolently, somewhat with
the air of a kindly curator explaining a museum to little boys. On the
table beside him were various objects, neatly labelled. Amongst them
Jimmy recognized Leopold.
"Ah, Superintendent," said George, "I have been anxious to know how you
have progressed. Have you caught the man?"
"He'll take a lot of catching, he will," said the Superintendent easily.
His failure in that respect did not appear to rankle with him.
George Lomax did not look particularly well pleased. He detested levity
of any kind.
"I've got everything taped out pretty clearly," went on the detective.
He took up two objects from the table.
"Here we've got the two bullets. The largest is a .455, fired from
Mr. Thesiger's Colt automatic. Grazed the window sash and I found it
embedded in the trunk of that cedar tree. This little fellow was fired
from the Mauser .25. After passing through Mr. Thesiger's arm, it
embedded itself in this arm-chair here. As for the pistol itself--"
"Well?" said Sir Oswald eagerly. "Any fingerprints?"
Battle shook his head.
"The man who handled it wore gloves," he said slowly.
"A pity," said Sir Oswald.
"A man who knew his business would wear gloves. Am I right in thinking,
Sir Oswald, that you found this pistol just about twenty yards from the
bottom of the steps leading up to the terrace?"
Sir Oswald stepped to the window.
"Yes, almost exactly, I should say."
"I don't want to find fault, but it would have been wiser on your part,
sir, to leave it exactly as you found it."
"I am sorry," said Sir Oswald stiffly.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I've been able to reconstruct things. There
were your footprints, you see, leading up from the bottom of the
garden, and a place where you had obviously stopped and stooped down,
and a kind of dent in the grass which was highly suggestive. By the
way, what was your theory of the pistol being there?"
"I presumed that it had been dropped by the man in his flight."
Battle shook his head.
"Not dropped, Sir Oswald. There are two points against that. To begin
with, there is only one set of footprints crossing the lawn just
there--your own."
"I see," said Sir Oswald thoughtfully.
"Can you be sure of that, Battle?" put in George.
"Quite sure, sir. There is one other set of tracks crossing the lawn,
Miss Wade's, but they are a good deal farther to the left."
He paused, and then went on: "And there's the dent in the ground. The
pistol must have struck the ground with some force. It all points to
its having been thrown."
"Well, why not?" said Sir Oswald. "Say the man fled down the path to
the left. He'd leave no footprints on the path and he'd hurl the
pistol away from him into the middle of the lawn, eh, Lomax?"
George agreed by a nod of the head.
"It's true that he'd leave no footprints on the path," said Battle,
"but from the shape of the dent and the way the turf was cut, I don't
think the pistol was thrown from that direction. I think it was thrown
from the terrace here."
"Very likely," said Sir Oswald. "Does it matter, Superintendent?"
"Ah, yes, Battle," broke in George. "Is it--er--strictly relevant?"
"Perhaps not, Mr. Lomax. But we like to get things just so, you know. I
wonder now if one of you gentlemen would take this pistol and throw it.
Will you, Sir Oswald? That's very kind. Stand just here in the window.
Now fling it into the middle of the lawn."
Sir Oswald complied, sending the pistol flying through the air with a
powerful sweep of his arm. Jimmy Thesiger drew near with breathless
interest. The Superintendent lumbered off after it like a well-trained
retriever. He reappeared with a beaming face.
"That's it, sir. Just the same kind of mark. Although, by the way, you
sent it a good ten yards farther. But then, you're a very powerfully
built man, aren't you, Sir Oswald? Excuse me, I thought I heard someone
at the door."
The Superintendent's ears must have been very much sharper than anyone
else's. Nobody else had heard a sound, but Battle was proved right, for
Lady Coote stood outside, a medicine glass in her hand.
"Your medicine, Oswald," she said, advancing into the room. "You forgot
it after breakfast."
"I'm very busy, Maria," said Sir Oswald. "I don't want my medicine."
"You would never take it if it wasn't for me," said his wife serenely,
advancing upon him. "You're just like a naughty little boy. Drink it up
now."
And meekly, obediently, the great steel magnate drank it up!
Lady Coote smiled sadly and sweetly at everyone.
"Am I interrupting you? Are you very busy? Oh, look at those revolvers.
Nasty, noisy, murdering things. To think, Oswald, that you might have
been shot by the burglar last night."
"You must have been alarmed when you found he was missing, Lady Coote,"
said Battle.
"I didn't think of it at first," confessed Lady Coote. "This poor boy
here"--she indicated Jimmy--"being shot--and everything so dreadful,
but so exciting. It wasn't till Mr. Bateman asked me where Sir Oswald
was that I remembered he'd gone out half an hour before for a stroll."
"Sleepless, eh, Sir Oswald?" asked Battle.
"I am usually an excellent sleeper," said Sir Oswald. "But I must
confess that last night I felt unusually restless. I thought the night
air would do me good."
"You came out through this window, I suppose?"
Was it his fancy, or did Sir Oswald hesitate for a moment before
replying.
"Yes."
"In your pumps too," said Lady Coote, "instead of putting thick shoes
on. What would you do without me to look after you?"
She shook her head sadly.
"I think, Maria, if you don't mind leaving us--we have still a lot to
discuss."
"I know, dear, I'm just going."
Lady Coote withdrew, carrying the empty medicine glass as though it
were a goblet out of which she had just administered a death potion.
"Well, Battle," said George Lomax, "it all seems clear enough. Yes,
perfectly clear. The man fires a shot, disabling Mr. Thesiger, flings
away the weapon, runs along the terrace and down the gravel path."
"Where he ought to have been caught by my men," put in Battle.
"Your men, if I may say so, Battle, seem to have been singularly
remiss. They didn't see Miss Wade come in. If they could miss her
coming in, they could easily miss the thief going out."
Superintendent Battle opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to think
better of it. Jimmy Thesiger looked at him curiously. He would have
given a lot to know just what was in Superintendent Battle's mind.
"Must have been a champion runner," was all the Scotland Yard man
contented himself with saying.
"How do you mean, Battle?"
"Just what I say, Mr. Lomax. I was round the corner of the terrace
myself not fifty seconds after the shot was fired. And for a man to
run all that distance towards me and get round the corner of the path
before I appeared round the side of the house--well, as I say, he must
have been a champion runner."
"I am at a loss to understand you, Battle. You have some idea of your
own which I have not yet--er--grasped. You say the man did not go
across the lawn and now you hint--What exactly do you hint? That the
man did not go down the path? Then in your opinion--er--where _did_ he
go?"
For answer, Superintendent Battle jerked an eloquent thumb upwards.
"Eh?" said George.
The Superintendent jerked harder than ever. George raised his head and
looked at the ceiling.
"Up there," said Battle. "Up the ivy again."
"Nonsense, Superintendent. What you are suggesting is impossible."
"Not at all impossible, sir. He'd done it once. He could do it twice."
"I don't mean impossible in that sense. But if the man wanted to
escape, he'd never bolt back into the house."
"Safest place for him, Mr. Lomax."
"But Mr. O'Rourke's door was still locked on the inside when we came to
him."
"And how did you get to him? Through Sir Stanley's room. That's the
way our man went. Lady Eileen tells me she saw the door knob of Mr.
O'Rourke's door move. That was when our friend was up there the first
time. I suspect the key was under Mr. O'Rourke's pillow. But his exit
is clear enough the second time--through the communicating door and
through Sir Stanley's room, which, of course, was empty. Like everyone
else, Sir Stanley is rushing downstairs to the library. Our man's got a
clear course."
"And where did he go then?"
Superintendent Battle shrugged his burly shoulders and became evasive.
"Plenty of ways open. Into an empty room on the other side of the house
and down the ivy again--out through a side door--or, just possibly, if
it was an inside job, he--well, stayed in the house."
George looked at him in shocked surprise.
"Really, Battle, I should--I should feel it very deeply if one of
my servants--er--I have the most perfect reliance on them--it would
distress me very much to have to suspect--"
"Nobody's asking you to suspect anyone, Mr. Lomax. I'm just putting all
the possibilities before you. The servants may be all right--probably
are."
"You have disturbed me," said George. "You have disturbed me greatly."
His eyes appeared more protuberant than ever.
To distract him, Jimmy poked delicately at a curious blackened object
on the table.
"What's this?" he asked.
"That's exhibit Z," said Battle. "The last of our little lot. It is, or
rather it has been, a glove."
He picked it up, the charred relic, and manipulated it with pride.
"Where did you find it?" asked Sir Oswald.
Battle jerked his head over his shoulder.
"In the grate--nearly burnt, but not quite. Queer; looks as though it
had been chewed by a dog."
"It might possibly be Miss Wade's," suggested Jimmy. "She has several
dogs."
The Superintendent shook his head.
"This isn't a lady's glove--no, not even the large kind of loose glove
ladies wear nowadays. Fit it on, sir, a moment."
He adjusted the blackened object over Jimmy's hand.
"You see--it's large even for you."
"Do you attach importance to this discovery?" inquired Sir Oswald
coldly.
"You never know, Sir Oswald, what's going to be important or what
isn't."
There was a sharp tap at the door and Bundle entered.
"I'm so sorry," she said apologetically, "but Father has just rung up.
He says I must come home because everybody is worrying him."
She paused.
"Yes, my dear Eileen?" said George encouragingly, perceiving that there
was more to come.
"I wouldn't have interrupted you--only that I thought it might perhaps
have something to do with all this. You see, what has upset Father is
that one of our footmen is missing. He went out last night and hasn't
come back."
"What is the man's name?" It was Sir Oswald who took up the
cross-examination.
"John Bauer."
"An Englishman?"
"I believe he calls himself a Swiss--but I think he's a German. He
speaks English perfectly, though."
"Ah!" Sir Oswald drew in his breath with a long, satisfied hiss. "And
he has been at Chimneys--how long?"
"Just under a month."
Sir Oswald turned to the other two.
"Here is our missing man. You know, Lomax, as well as I do, that
several foreign Governments are after the thing. I remember the man
now perfectly--tall, well-drilled fellow. Came about a fortnight
before we left. A clever move. Any new servants here would be closely
scrutinized, but at Chimneys, five miles away--" He did not finish the
sentence.
"You think the plan was laid so long beforehand?"
"Why not? There are millions in that formula, Lomax. Doubtless Bauer
hoped to get access to my private papers at Chimneys, and to learn
something of forthcoming arrangements from them. It seems likely that
he may have had an accomplice in this house--someone who put him
wise to the lie of the land and who saw to the doping of O'Rourke.
But Bauer was the man Miss Wade saw climbing down the ivy--the big,
powerful man."
He turned to Superintendent Battle.
"Bauer was your man, Superintendent. And, somehow or other, you let him
slip through your fingers."