WALK INTO MY PARLOR
Baddeley acquiesced. "That's very true. And the more I see of the case,
the more I----Still, let's deal with the matter in hand. There isn't a
reasonable doubt, Mr. Bathurst, that you've put your hooks into the
right people for this jewel robbery. And one thing at a time, say I."
Anthony bowed to the compliment. "We can get 'Spider' Webb easily
enough," he said, "in any one of half a dozen ways. We'll discuss that
in a few moments. I'm more concerned about Lady Considine's chance of
getting her pearls back. How do we stand there?" The Inspector thought
for a moment.
"Let's see. They were taken in the early hours of this morning.
To-morrow's Sunday. If we can collar our man within twenty-four hours or
so we should be able to salve the spoils. Pearls, you see, are different
from silver stuff, for example--that's in the pot before you can wink an
eye. The best market for what he's got away with might be Amsterdam ...
he'd probably try about the beginning of next week."
"Right!" exclaimed Anthony. "I'm inclined to agree with you. Now, how
about getting our man? Is it worth while following up Marshall's
telephone call?"
"I've got a better plan than that, Mr. Bathurst. You wait and see and
let me know what you think of it. I've had Marshall under observation
since this morning ..." he grinned as though the reflection afforded him
some amusement ... "as a matter of fact ever since I first
arrived--although I admit you were a step ahead of me over that window
business ... and she's made no attempt at communication with anybody.
She's cute enough to realize that her best plan is to say and do
nothing: just go about her ordinary daily duties as though nothing had
happened. Also she's scared stiff about the murder." He glanced at us
both ... almost as though he wanted us to confirm his opinion.
Then I butted in. "You're satisfied then, Inspector, that Webb didn't
murder Prescott--despite all this evidence?"
Anthony looked searchingly at Baddeley. The Inspector's face grew grim
and hard. But he found time to answer me although I had half-suspected
that he would evade the question. He chose his words carefully.
"Not despite--because of--the evidence, Mr. Cunningham!" He turned to
Anthony with the same kind of look as before, but Anthony remained
silent. I got the impression that Baddeley would have liked to make him
talk, and that Anthony knew it.
"We'll have her in here, Mr. Bathurst." He went to the door and called
Roper.
"Bring that maid Marshall in here, Roper. Don't tell her anything--don't
even say who it is wants to speak to her."
Marshall came, shepherded by Roper. She was very white, but still held
her head high with a sort of impudent defiance.
"Sit down there," said Baddeley, motioning her to a chair. "I've sent
for you because I want you to pass on a little useful information. Got
that?"
She tossed her head back. "I've told you all I know, Inspector, and that
being so, I can't very well tell you any more," and a bright red spot
blazed in her white cheek.
Baddeley waved her protestations on one side. Here he was sure of
himself, certain of what he was going to do, confident of ultimate
success.
"There's one piece of information you can give me, my girl, and that
dead smart, so make up your mind on that," he rapped. "You might as well
know now as later ... the game's up!!"
Marshall gasped, and her hand went to her throat ... helplessly.
"Where's 'Spider' Webb to be found these days?" roared Baddeley.
"Eh--_Mrs._ Webb?"
She gazed at him affrighted, wild-eyed, with bosom heaving. Then
summoned sufficient desperation to her aid to make one last attempt at
fight. "I don't know what you----"
"Cut that," broke in the Inspector, "that won't get you anything. We
know you ... we know him ... we know your little lay in the billiard
room last night when you handed over the Considine pearls. _Where is
he?_"
"That I'll never tell you," she retorted--"never!"
"I think you will, my lady, when you've heard all I have to say,"
stormed Baddeley, "if you don't help me all you can and come across with
what you know, I'll do my level best to 'swing' your pretty 'Spider.'"
Her face went ashen, and as the full import of his speech reached her
brain, horror tinged her features.
"You can't!" she gasped. "You can't! The 'Spider' never touched 'im,
never saw 'im ... the room was empty when I left it ... the 'Spider'
went ... it's God's own truth I'm telling you...."
"I want the truth," went on Baddeley, remorselessly and relentlessly,
"you tell the truth and help me ... and I'll help you ... if I can, that
is."
"It _is_ the truth," she sobbed. "The 'Spider' wouldn't 'urt a fly."
"No, I know, it doesn't sound as though he would," said Baddeley
derisively. "Spiders don't, as a rule, do they? You're trapped, my girl,
and you'll see the inside of a prison cell before supper time to-night
... you realize that, don't you? ... and if you don't tell me where this
precious husband of yours is to be found ... well, I shall find him all
the same, and it will go pretty hard with the pair of you," he paused,
and then proceeded with studied deliberation, "ten years for you, we'll
say, and the execution shed for your partner."
She gazed at him--fascinated at the dreadful picture he had painted for
her imagination to dwell upon. Then answered him, white-lipped and
trembling.
"I'll tell you the truth," she murmured. "Then you'll know my 'usband
couldn't 'ave done that awful thing. I took the necklace from Lady
Considine's room as I 'ad meant to do ... I come into this 'ouse to get
it ... I 'ad to wait a long time for my chance ... but it come yesterday
... I saw it laying on the dressing-table and took it. Then I arranged
for the 'Spider' to come for it so's I shouldn't be suspected and about
two o'clock this morning I dropped it to 'im from the billiard room
window. In ten minutes at the most 'e 'ad gone. It's the solemn truth,
Inspector," she wiped tears from her eyes, "if I never speak another
word, and when I got down there first thing this morning, and there was
that corpse on the table--you could 'ave knocked me down with a
feather."
"H'm! That's all very well. But how do you know your husband didn't come
back for something--something that he'd dropped, perhaps--and met Mr.
Prescott who challenged him?"
She shook her head. "'E didn't--'e didn't. 'E just went at once!"
"You don't know," reiterated Baddeley. "He may have come back, run into
Mr. Prescott, struggled with him and killed him. You don't know, so you
can't say."
"I know I don't," she muttered piteously--"but 'e didn't. It wouldn't be
like him to do no such thing."
"Then what did you open the window for?" cut in Baddeley
decisively--"you had doubts yourself as to what had happened after you
left the billiard room."
The fight was all gone from her now. "Yes," she said. "I was frightened.
I worried about what I knew 'ad 'appened. All the same my 'usband never
touched 'im--I'll take my dying oath on that." She looked sullenly in
front of her.
"Where is he, then?" Then as no answer was forthcoming, "Good Lord,
girl, we'll get him right enough, whether you tell us or not ... make no
mistake about that ... it's merely a question of time ... but, mark my
words ... the sooner he tells the truth about the robbery ... the more
chance he has of clearing himself with regard to the murder."
Marshall made as if to speak, but hesitated.
Baddeley saw the advantage he had gained and hastened to follow it up.
"The sooner we get to work while the scent is hot, the greater
likelihood of finding the murderer," he said, with decision in his tone.
"Come, my girl, that must be as plain to you as the nose on my face."
She hesitated again, and twisted her hands nervously in her lap.
"I don't know what to do," she moaned. "You're asking me to betray my
'usband--and if I do, it's only to save 'im from something worse--but
it's prison for me, and prison for 'im at the best of things."
"That's so," declared Baddeley mercilessly, "but a 'stretch' is better
than the gallows."
"May I be forgiven then," said Marshall--"you'll find the 'Spider' at
45, Peabody Buildings, Poplar. And for mercy's sake, don't let 'im know
who told you."
Baddeley motioned to Roper. "Get her down to the station, Roper ... I'll
be down later."
"We must tell Sir Charles, Inspector," said Anthony, as Roper departed
with his charge. "I haven't mentioned this latest development to him ...
I came straight to you with the news."
"Naturally," rejoined Baddeley, "naturally. We'll ask him to step this
way. Do you mind, Mr. Cunningham?"
I found the old man in the garden with Mary. The trouble of the whole
affair was just beginning to show on their faces.... Considine Manor had
by this time become the talk of thousands. Mary seemed very grief-laden
... they turned as I approached.
I gave him Baddeley's message.
"Certainly, Bill, I'll come in at once. Is there news, then?"
"Rather," I replied. "Come and hear what Baddeley has to say."
"What is it, Bill?" asked Mary, eagerly.
"Can't tell you yet," I whispered evasively, "but we're on the track of
the pearls--anyway!"
"This is extraordinarily good news," said Sir Charles, as we went into
the house. "How did Baddeley manage it?"
"It was Bathurst," I replied. "You'll hear what they have to say--and
you'll get a bit of a shock."
He looked at me curiously. "Don't be alarmed," I said. "Nothing to worry
about."
"Thank you, Bill. To tell the truth you did startle me a bit ... I began
to wonder ..." he wiped his forehead ... "it's been a day of surprises."
Baddeley speedily described our discoveries (I say "our") and the result
thereof. Sir Charles gasped.
"Marshall!" he exclaimed incredulously. "You astound me. And she came
with such splendid references. Well, well, well, truly one never knows.
My wife's pearls, Inspector. Do you think there's any probability of
restoring them? You've done so splendidly that one becomes quite
optimistic." His eyes gleamed. "And you say you don't really connect the
affair with poor young Prescott?"
"At the moment, Sir Charles, I'm not inclined to link up the two ... and
as for your praises"--he turned towards Anthony--"it's Mr. Bathurst here
that put me on the track."
Anthony laughed. "Proving my theories, Sir Charles, that's all! And I
was lucky."
"Well, I congratulate you then, as a combination--we'll leave it at
that. By the way, Baddeley, you didn't answer me about the pearls. What
do you really think?"
"I'm going to put a suggestion in front of you directly, Sir Charles,
that will answer that question for you. Have most of your guests gone?"
"Yes, Inspector; as sanctioned by you, after your little round of
interrogations this morning, they have all departed for their homes. No
good purpose could have been served by their staying. I have a list of
their present addresses for you. Mr. Cunningham and Mr. Bathurst, and my
daughter and son-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Arkwright, will stay on. That is
to say, for a time. Well, Fitch, what is it?"
The butler had approached him.
"Your pardon, Sir Charles, but there's a newspaper man here wishes to
speak to you. Here's his card."
Sir Charles took it. "Sydney Dennison. _The Morning Message._ A London
reporter, gentlemen," he announced. "Shall I?..."
Baddeley cut in. "Have him in, Sir Charles, won't do any harm."
A fresh-faced young fellow came in and bowed to us.
"Sorry to disturb you gentlemen, but I've motored down from London....
Can you give me any details of what has taken place here?"
Baddeley briefly recounted the affair, but withheld all details relevant
to the arrest of Marshall.
"Murder and robbery then as we were informed on the 'phone by our local
agent," said Dennison. "Any arrest imminent?"
The Inspector took a moment or two to answer. "I am holding a person,"
he replied slowly, "on the robbery charge only, so far, but I should be
very much obliged, Mr. Dennison, and it will, I think, assist me
considerably, if you make no mention of the arrest whatever. That is to
say, yet awhile."
Dennison's eyes went up in interrogation.
"I will promise you," proceeded Baddeley, "that no other paper gets the
information to publish before you. I shall certainly see to that."
"You think it will assist?..." queried Dennison.
"I think it will assist the cause of justice," said Baddeley gravely.
"That's why you ask me?"
"That's why I ask you!"
"Right you are, Inspector. I will finish my report for _The Message_, by
saying for the time being, the Police are entirely without a clue--eh?"
"Nothing would please me better," said Baddeley, rubbing his palms
together.
"I understand perfectly." Dennison rose to depart. He had his story and
in a few days would have a still better one. "Now for London again."
"One moment," cried the Inspector. "One more thing. I would like the
bewilderment of the Police to appear in the late edition of your
_Evening Gazette_. That all right? That will be better still."
"As you wish, Inspector, and thank you. Good-bye!" And in a brief period
we heard the sound of his motorcycle en route for headquarters again.
Press methods are short and sharp.
Baddeley turned to us and although he addressed us as a company, the
feeling persisted in me that Anthony was his audience as far as he
himself was concerned.
"That brings me, gentlemen, to the matter of the 'Spider.' We've got to
get him, and we ought to get him at once ... while, I think, the pearls
are _on_ him ... before he takes a little trip somewhere."
"We know where he is?" interjected Sir Charles.
"Yes," continued Baddeley, "but I don't purpose going there for him."
"Where, then?" I interposed.
"Well, this is my plan. Get the 'Spider' back here--then take him. It
has the merits of simplicity and comfort." He smiled.
"Mahomet and the mountain, eh?" smiled Anthony.
"Something like it," answered the Inspector.
"But will he come?" demanded Sir Charles. "It appears to me to be
extremely doubtful. Would any criminal walk into an obvious trap like
that?... You're expecting too much, Baddeley."
"I don't think so, Sir Charles, if you'll allow me to say so. If, as I
think and I fancy as Mr. Bathurst here, thinks, the murder of Mr.
Prescott is a complete surprise to the 'Spider,' then it's given him a
pretty nasty shock ... he's wondering, gentlemen, wondering very
considerably. And he will see in the late editions of the London papers
this evening that the Police are completely in the dark ... so he won't
be dreaming any bad dreams himself ... yet awhile ... but he'll still go
on wondering. Now, I think, gentlemen, that my idea will bring him along
quite comfortably. I'm going to telegraph to him like this. 'Come--same
place--same time--urgent!'"
"Whom from?" interposed Anthony. "Who's the sender?"
"That I admit, Mr. Bathurst, is its weakness. If I get hold of his
wife's Christian name, it's just possible I might use the wrong form or
the wrong abbreviation ... familiar names are awkward things to take
chances with in messages--a man calls his wife by a nickname,
perhaps--still ..." he paused and drummed with his hands on the table,
reflecting. "How about putting Marshall?"
None of us answered. I think we were all engaged in weighing up the
advisability.
Baddeley went on. "If it's unusual for her to send to him under that
name, he may think she has a special reason in light of what's happened
after the burglary. Whereas, if, for instance, her name's 'Kate' and I
put 'Katie' when the 'Spider' always knows her as 'Kitty'--it's bound to
create doubt and suspicion."
Anthony sat thinking. "I'm disposed to agree with you, Inspector," he
said.
"You think it's worth trying, Mr. Bathurst?" asked Sir Charles.
"Yes, I do." Baddeley seemed pleased. "Get that telegram off then. Roper
will take it for us ... he should be back by now. But perhaps I'd better
go and see."
"What about to-night then, Inspector?" said Anthony. "What time shall we
gather around to receive our guest? Just after twelve?"
Baddeley rubbed his chin with his forefinger.
"I don't think we'll take any chances, Mr. Bathurst, so we had better be
in our places by midnight. He's an awkward customer, there's no doubt
about that, this 'Spider' Webb, so if you've a revolver it might come in
useful. I'll bring along a couple of men from the station, so with Roper
and Mr. Cunningham, there'll be half a dozen of us. We mustn't let him
slip through our fingers."
Sir Charles looked grave. "I'll trust there will be no shooting,
Inspector. Lady Considine is sufficiently upset already without ..." he
looked at Baddeley with anxiety.
The Inspector pursed his lips together. "I'm sorry, Sir Charles, I fully
realize all that ... but I want this man badly ... and I don't think, if
my plan goes smoothly, that there will be any noise worth worrying
about." Sir Charles nodded.
"And what's more," proceeded Baddeley, "I'm pretty confident he'll have
the pearls with him. It's worth the risk, you see, sir."
Sir Charles appeared more reconciled.
"Very well then, and may you be successful." He bowed himself out.
"I'll get down to Roper, then," said Baddeley to us, "and get this wire
off. Then I'll meet you gentlemen here at eleven-thirty this evening.
We'll have five men in the grounds--including both of you--and in the
meantime, I'll think out the best disposition of my forces ..." he
grinned at us.
"I thought you said six men, just now, Inspector," I ventured.
"I did," he replied. "The sixth will be in the billiard room, of
course."
"You forget, Bill," chuckled Anthony, "Inspector Baddeley is
'marshalling' his forces."
Baddeley burst into hearty laughter. "Very good, Mr. Bathurst, very
good." He waved his hand to us. "Till eleven-thirty then."
"Will the 'Spider' come, Anthony?" I asked.
He thought for a moment before replying--"I think he will. Curiosity is
a tremendous impetus. I think he will. And of course, he's got to think
of his own neck so he must be kept well posted. He'll think his wife has
important news for him."
"Good," I cried. "Welcome to the 'Spider'!"
"Yes," said Anthony. "Somewhere about one-thirty, I imagine. And we'll
welcome him with this." He fingered his automatic. "If necessary."