INSIDE
The adventurers managed to squeeze through a scullery window, the latch
of which had not been secured, and a moment later were in the house. As
Phillips had surmised, the place was empty. There were, however, cooking
utensils in the kitchen, a quantity of plates and dishes and glass, with
two baskets containing a small supply of cutlery and silver. Floorcloth
had been laid down on the kitchen floor and a carpet in the hall, and
there were carpets on the stairs, but three of the four living-rooms on
the ground floor were empty. But the fourth room was comfortably
furnished. A fire was still burning in the grate, and on the tiled
hearth Phillips detected the ends of two or three cigarettes. There was
a faint aroma of tobacco on the air, not the sort of tobacco likely to
be consumed by a caretaker.
"It is just as I told you," Phillips chuckled. "I felt sure we should
find the house empty."
"Yet you are not altogether right," Fielden replied. "Somebody has been
here recently, and somebody who knows how to appreciate a good
cigarette. Besides, look at that fire. I don't like it, Phillips, and
wish we were well out of it. We don't happen to be in South Africa now."
"Oh, that's all right," Phillips said cheerfully. "No doubt the fire was
lighted this morning by the gardener, and no doubt also one of the
conspirators has been here. In fact, I should have been disappointed if
I hadn't found traces of him. It isn't necessary for our friends to come
often, but they couldn't very well work their scheme unless they were on
the spot when racing is taking place at Mirst Park. I wonder what our
friend thought of the snowstorm about three o'clock. I guess that must
have upset his calculations a bit. Now look at this."
Phillips bent down to the fireplace and lifted one of the cigarette
ends, which he handed to Fielden.
"Do you know anybody who smokes these?" he asked.
"I think so," Fielden said after close inspection. "They are
particularly expensive cigarettes, and can't be had unless specially
ordered. The only man I know who smokes them is Raymond Copley."
"Precisely. And you may bet your boots this is one of his. At any rate,
it is a curious coincidence, and tends to confirm what I have already
told you. I should be greatly surprised if Copley were not here this
afternoon. Now let us get a bit farther. There is nothing to detain us
after we have examined the telephone. I am afraid we shall have to use a
match, but, then, we are bound to take certain risks."
By the aid of a box of vestas the telephone instrument was found in the
hall. It presented no special features. It appeared to be the kind of
hanging instrument to be seen in hundreds of offices and private houses.
"Nothing remarkable about that," Fielden said.
For the moment Phillips made no reply. He fetched a chair from the
kitchen and mounted it. After the expenditure of two or three matches,
the ends of which he was careful to deposit in his pocket, he broke into
a smile.
"Ah, I expected something like this," he said. "There is an extension to
this instrument. If you look in the angle of the wall you will see that
it goes up to the ceiling. To tell you the truth, I am glad to find
this, because it bears out what strikes me as a very plausible theory. I
was rather disappointed to find the telephone here at all. But now I can
understand why it was placed in this particular spot. We have a cunning
lot to deal with, and it was to be expected they would not do things
like other people. Let us go upstairs and see how far this extension
goes. To the roof, unless I am mistaken."
The exploration proved troublesome, but the extension was traced to the
second floor and thence along the ceiling, where it finally disappeared
through a skylight which gave on to the roof. An iron ladder was
attached to the skylight, and Phillips pointed out to his companion that
the ladder appeared to have been regularly used. The iron rungs were
worn bright, the sides were clean and shiny.
"Come along," Phillips whispered. "We must get out on the top. But be
cautious and display as little light as possible. I daresay we can
manage with a solitary match."
They found themselves on the roof presently. By feeling about they could
trace the flex of the extension to a square wooden box screwed down to
the leads. The box did not appear to be locked, and it was easy for
Phillips to fumble about inside it until he drew out a cylinder of gutta
percha with something glittering at either end.
"Stoop down and light a match," he whispered, "and hide the flame under
your coat. Now, then, bend down here. That's right."
The match burst into flame under cover of Fielden's coat. The feeble
light displayed another telephone receiver attached to the end of a
somewhat long flex.
"You can blow out the match," Phillips went on, "and don't forget to put
the end in your pocket. It is just as well to be careful when dealing
with such a gang. Perhaps you begin to understand? You don't know, I
expect, that this roof commands the whole racecourse, and enables one to
see everything from start to finish. Now a man could sit down here on
this box and watch the race with the telephone receiver to his mouth. If
he were a really good judge of racing--I mean, if he were any good as a
judge of a finish--he would be able to spot the winner in nine cases out
of ten fifty lengths from home, and therefore, if there was some one at
the other end in the office of Jolly & Co., the result of a particular
race would be known in London before the horse was past the post. Do you
follow?"
"Yes, that's all very well," Fielden objected, "but that does not
account for the fact that----"
"That the information is conveyed in the smoking room of the Post Club.
Of course it doesn't. That, I confess, is where I am beaten for the
present. I am certain that a second later the confederate in the Post
Club knows what has happened. Don't ask me to tell you how the final
touches are put on, because I don't know. But, knowing as much as I do,
we shall soon find out, and I think you will admit that we haven't
wasted our evening. You understand now why either Copley or a
confederate was here this afternoon. The man, whoever he was, came with
the intention of sending the result of the three o'clock race to Covent
Garden. Why the three o'clock race is always picked out for this
swindle we don't know, but that will be made plain sooner or later. They
didn't make anything yesterday or to-day, because on both occasions the
race was run in a snowstorm. It was the snowstorm that first put the
idea into my head; in fact, it was the snowstorm that led me here at
all. And now, let us go back to my lodgings and discuss the matter over
a cigar."
The telephone receiver was replaced in its box, the lid shut down, and
the investigators began their descent to the lower rooms. They had not
forgotten to be cautious and walked as quietly and carefully as if the
house were occupied, which was, perhaps, as well, for as they reached
the first-floor landing there came the scratch of a match downstairs. It
was only a slight noise, but in the empty house it boomed loudly in the
ears of the explorers. The match had been struck to light the gas, for a
moment later the hall blazed up brightly, and Fielden and his companion,
looking over the banisters, saw two men in the hall.
"Have you made up a fire in the dining-room?" one of them asked. "You
haven't? Well, do so at once. I am half frozen. It's precious poor fun
motoring from London on a night like this. Did you bring in the hamper?"
Phillips started at the sound of the voice.
"This is awkward," he whispered. "I wish to goodness we had gone five
minutes sooner. It will be worse for you than for me if we are found
out. Did you recognize that voice?"
"Copley," Fielden muttered. "I'd give something to be out of this. The
other man is Foster, of course. I wonder what ill luck brings these
fellows here to-night. Still, as all these rooms are empty they are not
likely to come upstairs. But they mean to stay, or Copley would not have
been so fastidious about the fire."
"They are going to make a night of it," Phillips replied. "Judging from
that remark about the hamper, they have brought supper with them,
expecting somebody else, very likely. Well, there is nothing for it but
to wait. If we could only put out the gas in the hall we might have a
chance. We can slip down while they are at supper and leave by the way
we came. We must have that gas out."
"They would only light it again."
"Not if I plug the burner. I'll go and look for a piece of wood. It is
likely the carpenters have left some behind: they generally do. If I can
find a piece about four feet long, the trick will be done."