THE WHODUNIT COLLECTION: British Murder Mysteries (15 Novels in One Volume). Charles Norris Williamson
futile heave. Then he sat down on the top step to consider matters quietly.
It is an elementary principle continually dinned into the ears of junior members of the service that never in any circumstances must a prisoner upon whom hands have once been laid be permitted to escape. A captain who has lost his ship feels little more agony of mind than a Scotland Yard man who has lost his prisoner. It is always difficult to define the difference between negligence and ill luck.
True Gwennie had not been technically under arrest, but that was small consolation. He had intended to arrest her and she had outwitted him. That was the galling part a part that could admit of little explanation or extenuation when he came to submit his report to headquarters. He a chief inspector of the C. I. D. had dropped into this muddle.
He put the personal aspect aside for the moment while he sought to disentangle motives and probabilities. Gwennie could have no hope that his imprisonment would be more than temporary. She was too old a hand for that. Even if he were eliminated altogether, the investigation would still go on. His progress was recorded at Scotland Yard and there were able men ready to take it up where he had left off. Also she could scarcely suppose that he had ventured unsupported into the house. She would realise his colleagues would not be far away.
It needed no great reasoning power to conclude that her little effort against him was meant merely as a diversion to afford her time to make a get-away. And more, it seemed likely that she would succeed.
"I'd like to wring her neck," mused Menzies aloud and stabbed a hand viciously into his pocket to see whether he had a spare box of matches.
Down below in the darkness something stirred. The detective more than ever regretted the absence of matches. He cautiously descended the ladder and groped his way towards the sound. The cellar had seemingly been used as a depository of useless lumber and more than once he stumbled before, laying on a heap of coals, he placed his hands on a warm form. The figure moved under his touch and he felt the corda that enwrapped it. He slipped his pocket-knife under the bonds and the man moved stiffly, sat up, extracted a gag from his mouth, and spat.
"That you, Hallett?" said Menzies.
"Yes." The young man broke into a cackling laugh. "They've got you, then, Menzies. If I wasn't so sore this would be funny."
"You've a keen sense of humour," retorted Menzies grimly. "I don't see anything funny about it. Here hold tight. Don't go falling about yet. I'll give you a rub-down and you'll be all right in a jiffy."
Pie chafed the numbed limbs until Hallett groaned with the exquisite agony of returning circulation. "Matches are what I want more than anything else at the moment," he went on. "Do you happen to have any?"
"I think there's some right-hand vest pocket," groaned Hallett. "Easy you're murdering me."
Menzies extracted a small silver box of vestas and struck a light. "You'll do now," he said. "Better keep quiet for a little while I have a look round. We'll talk when there's more time."
The light showed a low-pitched cellar such as is used for the storage of coals in many suburban houses. Hallett, indeed, had been lying upon a heap of coals and almost immediately above was an iron plate which Menzies supposed opened out on to the pavement. He pushed it upwards and a slash of light showed that he was right.
"By James! I'll do Gwennie yet," he exclaimed. "This hole was not built to fit me, but I guess you'll be able to wriggle through, Mr. Hallett. You're slimmer than I. Feel you'd like to have a walk about now? Here, let me give you a hand?"
Supported by the chief inspector, Hallett took two or three uncertain steps. His strength was rapidly returning to him and by the time they had been twice round the cellar he declared himself fit for the undertaking. Menzies lifted him bodily and he wriggled upwards through the manhole. It was a tight squeeze and he sat gasping and exhausted on the pavement by the time he was through.
"What next? "he asked.
"There should be a constable at the corner to the right. Get him and break into the house if you can't do it any other way. Tell him to come and speak to me if he won't take instructions from you."
The policeman proved amenable, and within ten minutes Menzies had the pleasure of hearing the bolts of his prison withdraw and he heaved a sigh of relief as he emerged into comparatively open air. "That's better," he declared. He turned sharply on the constable. "Have you seen anyone leave the house since I came in?"
"There was a lady and gentleman about twenty minutes or half an hour ago, sir. I could have stopped 'em, but I didn't know whether you might want me to. I had no instructions. The gentleman was carrying a bag and the lady asked me where they were likely to find a taxi-cab."
"Did you direct them?"
"I told them the town hall was the nearest rank."
"Hump yourself down to that rank," said Menzies, "and find out if they took a cab. Get the number and hurry back, bringing a cab with you. Come on, Hallett. We'll make sure that all the birds have flown before we have that talk. And a wash wouldn't be amiss for either of us," he added, surveying the other's coal-blackened face.
"You've burnt yourself," said Jimmie.
"That," commented Menzies. "Oh, that's nothing only Gwennie's trade-mark. She's a regular little spit-cat, isn't she?"
A room to room search of the house satisfied Menzies that it was empty save for themselves. He postponed a more detailed search until Congreve should arrive and led the way to the room in which Gwennie Lyne had received him. He dropped into a chair and looked Hallett up and down.
"If it hadn't been my duty to get you out of this hole," he said, "I'd have felt inclined to let your friends stew you in your own juice. You're a little too inclined to go off at half-cock for my taste."
Hallett flushed a little. He remembered that but for the detective he would probably have been still in the cellar, and he had passed no word of thanks. He tried to overlook the reproof in Menzies' tone. "I'll own I blundered, if that will satisfy you." He held out his hand. "If it hadn't been for you I'd have still been sweating my soul out down below. I take it all back. You're a good man, Menzies."
"The girl played you up, did she? You're not the first that's been made a fool of by a woman, my lad."
Hallett's teeth gritted together. Menzies seemed to have the faculty of invariably smoothing him up the wrong way. "Can't you leave that end alone," he said coldly. "You may be right or wrong, but you know my opinion. Miss Greye-Stratton isn't a criminal. Your judgment's warped."
Menzies smiled and made a gesture as of one indulging a child's whim. "All right, my son. Have it your own way. I know "he cocked one leg over the other "if I'd been lured into this shanty by the lady and bundled down to keep company with the coals, what I should think. I'm not blaming you for jumping to help a lady in distress but if you'd gone to the Yard with that note instead of playing knight-errant, it would have been the sensible thing."
"That note was forged. I'll swear she had no hand in it."
Weir Menzies was whistling a tune softly to himself.
He stopped in the middle of a bar. "My dear young friend, for a man who's knocked about the world you're the most verdant sprig I've run across for a long time."
"How'd you know I was here?" demanded Jimmie.
"You left the fragments of the note in your room and we put them together. That's all. Suppose you let me know what happened. We'll want your statement, anyway."
Jimmie Hallett felt his unshaven chin absently. "It's no good explaining to you why I fell into this frame-up. You wouldn't understand and you can call me all the names you like if it relieves you any. You've got to take it that I felt I had to do something when I got back to the hotel and found the note. That was how I came out here. I guess I led any of your men who were shadowing me a little dance. I hopped all over the old village."
"If you went to any trouble to avoid my men," said Menzies drily, "it was waste of time. There