your friend Martin, a few minutes before nine. He then had to leave to advise me of the matter, but he was back at the house by ten. From ten till after eleven he watched alone, but since then the house has been surrounded by my men, as I rather expected to find a gang instead of a single man. Whoever took the cask must therefore have done so between nine and ten.’
Felix stared at his companion open-mouthed.
‘By Jove!’ he said. ‘You amaze me. How in thunder did you get on my track?’
Burnley smiled.
‘It is our business to know these things,’ he answered, ‘I knew all about how you got the cask away from the docks also.’
‘Well, thank Heaven! I told you the truth.’
‘It was the wise thing, Mr. Felix. I was able to check your statements as you went along, and I may say I felt really glad when I heard you were going to be straight. At the same time, sir, you will realise that my orders prevent me being satisfied until I have seen the contents of the cask.’
‘You cannot be more anxious to recover it than I am, for I want my money.’
‘Naturally,’ said Burnley, ‘but before we discuss the matter excuse me a moment. I want to give my fellows some instructions.’
He went out and called the men together. Sergeant Hastings and Constable Walker he retained, the rest he sent home in the car with instructions to return at eight o’clock in the morning. To Broughton he bade ‘Good-night,’ thanking him for his presence and help.
When he re-entered the study Felix made up the fire and drew forward the whisky and cigars.
‘Thank you, I don’t mind if I do,’ said the detective, sinking back into his chair. ‘Now, Mr. Felix, let us go over every one that knew about the cask being there.’
‘No one but myself and the carter, I assure you.’
‘Yourself, the carter, myself, and my man Walker—four to start with.’
Felix smiled.
‘As far as I am concerned,’ he said, ‘I left here, as you appear to know, almost immediately after the arrival of the cask and did not return till after one o’clock. All of that time I was in the company of Dr. William Martin and a number of mutual friends. So I can prove an alibi.’
Burnley smiled also.
‘For me,’ he said, ‘I am afraid you will have to take my word. The house was watched by Walker from ten o’clock, and we may take it as quite impossible that anything could have been done after that hour.’
‘There remains therefore the carter.’
‘There remains therefore the carter, and, as we must neglect no possibilities, I will ask you to give me the address of the cartage firm and any information about the man that you may have.’
‘John Lyons and Son, 127 Maddox Street, Lower Beechwood Road, was the contractor. The carter’s name, beyond Watty, I don’t know. He was a rather short, wiry chap, with a dark complexion and small black moustache.’
‘And now, Mr. Felix, can you not think of any others who may have known about the cask?’
‘There was no one,’ replied the other with decision.
‘I’m afraid we can’t assume that. We certainly can’t be sure.’
‘Who could there be?’
‘Well, your French friend. How do you know he didn’t write to others beside you?’
Felix sat up as if he had been shot.
‘By Jove!’ he cried, ‘it never entered my head. But it’s most unlikely—most unlikely.’
‘The whole thing’s most unlikely as far as that goes. Perhaps you are not aware that some one else was watching the house last evening?’
‘Good God, Inspector! What do you mean?’
‘Some one came to the lane shortly after your arrival with the cask. He waited and heard your conversation with your friend Martin. When you and your friend left, he followed you.’
Felix passed his hand over his forehead. His face was pale.
‘This business is too much for me,’ he said. ‘I wish to heaven I was out of it.’
‘Then help me to get you out of it. Think. Is there any one your friend knows that he might have written to?’
Felix remained silent for some moments.
‘There is only one man,’ he said at length in a hesitating voice, ‘that I know he is friendly with—a Mr. Percy Murgatroyd, a mining engineer who has an office in Westminster. But I don’t for one moment believe he had anything to say to it.’
‘Let me have his name and address, anyway.’
‘Four St. John’s Mansions, Victoria Street,’ said Felix, on referring to an address book.
‘You might write it down, if you please, and sign it.’
Felix looked up with a smile.
‘You generally write notes yourself, I should have thought?’
Burnley laughed.
‘You’re very quick, Mr. Felix. Of course it’s your handwriting I want also. But I assure you it’s only routine. Now please, think. Is there any one else?’
‘Not a living soul that I know of.’
‘Very well, Mr. Felix. I want to ask just one other question. Where did you stay in Paris?’
‘At the Hotel Continental.’
‘Thanks, that’s everything. And now, if you will allow me, I will take a few winks here in the chair till it gets light, and if you take my advice you will turn in.’
Felix looked at his watch.
‘Quarter-past three. Well, perhaps I shall. I’m only sorry I cannot offer you a bed as the house is absolutely empty, but if you will take a shakedown in the spare room——?’
‘No, no, thanks very much, I shall be all right here.’
‘As you wish. Good night.’
When Felix had left, the Inspector sat on in his chair smoking his strong black cigars and thinking. He did not sleep, though he remained almost motionless, only at long intervals rousing up to light another cigar, and it was not until five had struck that he got up and looked out of the window.
‘Light at last,’ he muttered, as he let himself quietly out of the back-door into the yard.
His first care was to make a thorough search in the yard and all the out-houses to ensure that the cask was really gone and not merely hidden in some other room. He was speedily satisfied on this
