The Chestermarke Instinct

"No, Mrs. Carswell," she said, before the housekeeper could speak, "I haven't come to call on either Mr. Gabriel or Mr. Joseph Chestermarke – I came to see you. Mayn't I come in?"

Mrs. Carswell stepped back into the hall, and Betty followed. For a moment the two looked at each other. And in the elder woman's eyes there was still the same expression, and it was with obvious uncertainty, if not with positive suspicion, that she waited.

"You have not heard anything of Mr. Horbury?" asked Betty, who was not slow to notice the housekeeper's demeanour.

"Nothing!" replied Mrs. Carswell, with a shake of the head. "Nothing at all! No one has told me anything."

Betty turned to the door of the dining-room.

"Very well," she said. "I dare say you know, Mrs. Carswell, that I am my uncle's nearest relation. Now I want to go through his papers and things. I want to see his desk – his last letters – anything – and everything there is."

She laid a hand on the door – and Mrs. Carswell suddenly found her tongue.

"Oh, miss!" she said, in a low, frightened voice, "you can't! That room's locked up. So is the study – where all Mr. Horbury's papers are. So is his bedroom. Mr. Joseph Chestermarke locked them all up last night – he has the keys. Nobody's to go into them – nor into any other room – without his permission."

Betty's cheeks began to glow, and an obstinate look to settle about her lips.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "But I think I shall have something to say to that, Mrs. Carswell. Ask Mr. Joseph Chestermarke to come here a minute."

The housekeeper shrunk back.

"I daren't, Miss Fosdyke!" she answered. "It would be as much as my place was worth!"

"I thought you were my uncle's housekeeper," suggested Betty. "Aren't you? Or are you employed by Mr. Joseph Chestermarke? Come, now?"

Mrs. Carswell hesitated. It was very evident that she was afraid. But of what?

"So far as I know," continued Betty, "this is my uncle's house, and you're his servant. Am I right or wrong, Mrs. Carswell?"

"Right as regards my being engaged by Mr. Horbury," replied the housekeeper. "But the house belongs to – them! Mr. Horbury – so I understand – had the use of it – it was reckoned as part of his salary. It's their house, miss."

"But, anyway, my uncle's effects are his – and I mean to see them," insisted Betty. "If you won't call Mr. Joseph – or Mr. Gabriel – out, I shall walk into the bank at the front door, and demand to see them. You'd better let one of them know I'm here, Mrs. Carswell – I'm not going to stand any nonsense."

Mrs. Carswell hesitated a little, but in the end she knocked timidly at the private door. And presently Joseph Chestermarke opened it, looked out, saw Betty, and came into the hall. He offered his visitor no polite greeting, and for once he forgot his accustomed sneering smile. Instead, he gave the housekeeper a swift look which sent her away in haste, and he turned to Betty with an air of annoyance.

"Yes?" he asked abruptly. "What do you want?"

"I want to go into my uncle's house – into his rooms," said Betty. "I am his next-of-kin – I wish to examine his papers."

"You can't!" answered Joseph. "We haven't examined them ourselves yet."

"What right have you to examine them?" demanded Betty.

"Every right!" retorted Joseph.

"Not his private belongings!" she said firmly.

"This is our house – you're not going into it," declared Joseph. "Nobody's going into it – without our permission."

"We'll see about that, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke!" replied Betty. "If – supposing – my uncle is dead, I've the right to examine anything he's left. I insist upon it! I insist on seeing his papers, looking through his desk. And at once!"

"No!" said Joseph. "Nothing of the sort. We don't know that you've any right. We don't know that you're his next-of-kin. We're not – legally – aware that you're his niece. You say you are – but we don't know it – as a matter of real fact. You'd better go away."

Betty's cheeks flamed hotly and her eyes flashed.

"So that's your attitude – to me!" she exclaimed. "Very well! But you shall soon see whether I am what I say I am. What are you and your uncle implying, suggesting, hinting at?" she went on, suddenly letting her naturally hot temper get the better of her. "Do you realize what an utterly unworthy part you are playing? You accuse my uncle of being a thief – and you dare not make any specified accusation against him! You charge him with stealing your securities – and you daren't tell the police what securities! I don't believe you've a security missing! Nobody believes it! The police don't believe it. Lord Ellersdeane doesn't believe it. Why, your own clerk, Mr. Neale, who ought to know, if anybody does, doesn't believe it! You're telling lies, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke – there! Lies! I'll denounce you to the whole town – I'll expose you! I believe my uncle has met with some foul play – and as sure as I am his niece I'll probe the whole thing to the bottom. Are you going to admit me to those rooms?"

The door of the private room, which Joseph had left slightly ajar behind him, was pushed open a little, and Gabriel's colourless face looked out.

"Tell the young woman to go and see a solicitor," he said, and vanished again.

Joseph glanced at Betty, who was still staring indignantly at him.

"You hear?" he said quietly. "Now you'd better go away. You are not going in there."

Betty suddenly turned and walked out. She was across the Market-Place and at the door of the Scarnham Arms before her self-possession had come back to her. And she was aware then that a gentleman, who had just alighted from a horse which a groom was leading away to the stable yard, was looking and smiling at her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Is it you, Lord Ellersdeane? – I beg your pardon – I was preoccupied."

"So I saw," said the Earl. "I'd watched you come across from the Bank. Is there any news this morning?"

"Come up to my sitting-room and let us talk," said Betty. She led the way upstairs and closed her door on herself and her visitor. "No news of my uncle," she continued, turning to the Earl. "Have you any?"

The Earl shook his head disappointedly.

"No!" he replied. "I wish I had! I myself and a lot of my men have been searching all round Ellersdeane – practically all night. We've made inquiries at each of the neighbouring villages – without result. Have the police heard anything? – I've only just come into town."

"You haven't seen Polke, then?" said Betty. "Oh, well, he heard something last night." She went on to tell the Earl of the meeting with the tinker, and of Mrs. Pratt's account of the mysterious stranger, and of what Starmidge was now doing. "It all seems such slow work," she concluded, "but I suppose the police can't move any faster."

"You heard nothing at the bank itself – from the Chestermarkes?" asked the Earl.

"I heard sufficient to make me as – as absent-minded as I was when you met me just now! I went there, as my uncle's nearest relation, with a simple request to see his papers and things – a very natural desire, surely. The Chestermarkes have locked up his rooms – and they ordered me out – showed me the door!"

"How very extraordinary!" exclaimed the Earl. "Really! – in so many words?"

"I think Joseph had the grace to say I had better go away," said Betty. "And Gabriel – who called me a young woman – told me to go and see a solicitor, which, of course," she added reflectively, "is precisely what I shall do – as they will very soon find!"

The Earl stepped over to one of the windows, and stood for a moment or two silently looking out on the Market-Place.

"I don't understand this at all," he said at last. "What is the meaning of all this reserve on the Chestermarkes' part? Why didn't they tell the police what securities are missing? Why don't they let you, his niece, examine Horbury's effects? What right have they to fasten up his house?"

"Their house – so Mrs. Carswell says," remarked Betty.

"Oh, well – it may be their house, strictly speaking," agreed the Earl, "but Horbury was its tenant, anyway, and the furniture and things in it are his – I'm sure of that, for he and I shared a similar taste in collecting old oak, and I know where he bought most of his possessions. I can't make the behaviour of these people out at all – and I'm getting more and more uneasy about the whole thing, Miss Fosdyke – as I'm sure you are. I wonder if the police will find the man who came to the Station Hotel on Saturday? Now, if they could lay hands on him, and get to know who he was, and what he wanted, and if he really met your uncle – "

The Earl suddenly paused and turned from the window with a glance at Betty.

"There's young Mr. Neale coming across from the bank," he observed. "I think he's coming here. By the by, isn't he a relation of Horbury's?"

"No," said Betty. "But my uncle was his guardian. Is he coming here, Lord Ellersdeane?"

"Straight here," replied the Earl. "Perhaps he's got some news."

Betty had the door open before Neale could knock at it. He came in with a smile, and glanced half-whimsically, half as if he had queer news to give, at the two people who looked so inquiringly at him.

"Well?" demanded Betty. "What is it, Wallie? Have these two precious principals sent you with news?"

"They're not my principals any longer," answered Neale. He laid down some books and an old jacket on the table. "That's my old working coat," he went on, with a laugh. "I've worn it for the last time – at Chestermarke's. They've dismissed me."

Lord Ellersdeane turned sharply from the window, and Betty indulged in a cry of indignation.

"Dismissed – you?" she exclaimed. "Dismissed!"

"With a quarter's salary in lieu of notice," laughed Neale, slapping his pocket. "I've got it here – in gold."

"But – why?" asked Betty.

Neale shook his head at her.

"Because you told Joseph that I didn't believe them when they said that some of their securities were missing," he answered. "You did it! As soon as you'd gone, they had me in, told me that it was contrary to their principles to retain servants who took sides with other people against them, handed me a cheque, and told me to cash it forthwith and depart. And – here I am!"

"You don't seem to mind this very much, Mr. Neale," observed the Earl, looking keenly at this victim of summary treatment. "Do you?"

"If your lordship really wants to know," answered Neale, "I don't! I'm truly thankful. It's only what would have happened – in another way. I meant to leave Chestermarke's. If it hadn't been for Mr. Horbury, I should have left ages ago. I hate banking! I hated the life. And – I dislike Chestermarke's! Immensely! Now, I'll go and have a free life somewhere in Canada or some equally spacious clime – where I can breathe."

"Not at all!" said Betty decidedly. "You shall come and be my manager in London. The brewery wants one, badly. You shall have a handsome salary, Wallie – much more than you had at that beastly bank!"

"Very kind of you, I'm sure," laughed Neale. "But I think I'm inclined to put breweries in the same line with banks. Don't you be too rash, Betty – I'm not exactly cut out for commercialism. Not," he added reflectively, "not that I haven't been a very good servant to Chestermarke's. I have! But Chestermarkes are – what they are!"

The Earl, who had been watching the two young people with something of amused interest, suddenly came forward from the window.

"Mr. Neale!" he said.

"My lord!" responded Neale.

"What's your honest opinion about your late principals?" asked the Earl.

Neale shook his head slowly and significantly.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Do you know that they've – just now – refused Miss Fosdyke permission to examine her uncle's belongings?" continued the Earl. "That they wouldn't even let her enter the house?"

"No, I didn't know," replied Neale. "But I'm not surprised. Nothing that those two could do would ever surprise me."

"Feeling that, what do you advise in this case?" asked the Earl. "Come! – you're no longer in their employ – you can speak freely now. What do you think?"

"Well," said Neale, after a pause, and speaking with unusual gravity, "I think the police ought to make a thorough examination of the bank-house – I'm surprised it hasn't been thought of before."

The Earl picked up his hat.

"I've been thinking of it all the morning!" he said. "Come – let us all go round to Polke."

CHAPTER XI

THE SEARCH-WARRANT

As they turned out of the Market-Place into the street leading to the police-station, Lord Ellersdeane and his companions became aware of a curious figure which was slowly preceding them – that of a very old man whose massive head and long white hair, falling in thick shocks about his neck, was innocent of covering, whose tall, erect form was closely wrapped about in a great, many-caped horseman's cloak which looked as if it had descended to him from some early Georgian ancestor. In one hand he carried a long staff; the other clutched an ancient folio; altogether he was something very much out of the common, and Neale, catching sight of him, nudged Betty Fosdyke's elbow and pointed ahead.

"One of the sights of Scarnham!" he whispered. "Old Batterley, the antiquary. Never seen with a hat, and never without that cloak, his staff, and a book under his arm. You needn't be astonished if he suddenly stops and begins reading his book in the open street – it's a habit of his."

But the antiquary apparently had other business. He turned into the police-station, and when the three visitors followed him a moment later, he was already in Polke's private office, and Polke and Starmidge were gazing speculatively at him. Polke turned to the newcomers, as the old man, having fitted on a pair of large spectacles, recognized the Earl and executed a deep bow.

"Mr. Batterley's just called with a suggestion, my lord," observed Polke, good-humouredly. "He's heard of Mr. Horbury's disappearance, and of the loss of your lordship's jewels, and he says that an explanation of the whole thing may be got if we search the bank-house."

"Thoroughly!" said Batterley, with a warning shake of his big head. "Thoroughly – thoroughly, Mr. Polke! No use just walking through the rooms, and seeing what any housemaid would see – the thing must be done properly. Your lordship," he continued, turning to the Earl, "knows that many houses in our Market-Place possess secret passages, double-staircases, and the like – Horbury's house is certainly one of those that do. It has, of course, been modernized. My memory is not quite as good as it was, but I have a recollection that when I was a boy, well over seventy years ago – I am, as your lordship is aware, nearer ninety than eighty – there were hiding-places discovered in the bank-house at the time Matthew Chestermarke, grandfather of the present Gabriel, had it altered: in fact, I am quite sure I was taken by my father to see them. Now, of course, many of these places were bricked up, and so on, but I think – it is my impression – that a double staircase was left untouched, and some recesses in the panelling of the garden-room. That garden-room, Mr. Polke – if you know what I mean?"

"Mr. Batterley," remarked the Earl, "means the panelled room which looks out on the garden. Mr. Horbury has used it as a study."

"The garden-room," continued the old antiquary, "should be particularly examined. It is into that room that the double staircase opens – by a door concealed in the recess at the side of the fire-place. There were, I am sure, recesses behind the panelling in that room. Now, Horbury may have known of them – he had tastes of an antiquarian disposition – in an amateur way, you know. At any rate, Mr. Polke, you should examine the house – and especially that room, for Horbury may have hidden Lord Ellersdeane's property there. A deeply interesting room that!" added the old man musingly. "I haven't been in it for some sixty years or so, but I remember it quite well. It was in that room that Jasper Chestermarke murdered Sir Gervase Rudd."

Starmidge, who, like the rest of them, had been listening eagerly to Batterley's talk, turned sharply to him.

"Did you say murdered, sir?" he said.

"A well-known story!" answered the old man half-impatiently, as he rose from his chair. "An ancestor of these Chestermarkes – he killed a man in that very room. Well – that's what I suggest, Mr. Polke. And – for another reason. As Lord Ellersdeane there knows – being, as his lordship is, a member of our society – the bank-house is so old that underneath it there may be such matters as old wells, old drains. Now, supposing Horbury had discovered some way under the present house, some secret passage or something, and that he went down into it on Sunday – eh? He may have fallen into one of these places – and be lying there dead or helpless. It's possible, Mr. Polke, it's quite possible. I make the suggestion to you for what it's worth, you know."

The old man bowed himself out and went away, and Polke turned to Lord Ellersdeane and Betty.

"I'm glad your lordship's come in," he said. "Quite apart from what Mr. Batterley suggests, we'll have to examine that bank-house. It's all nonsense – allowing the Chestermarkes to have their own way about everything! It's time we examined Horbury's effects."

Starmidge turned to Betty.

"Did you succeed in getting in there, Miss Fosdyke?" he asked.

"No!" replied Betty. "Mr. Joseph Chestermarke absolutely refused me admittance, and his uncle told me to go to a solicitor."

"Good advice, certainly," remarked Polke drily. "You'd better take it, miss. But what's Mr. Neale doing here?"

"Mr. Neale," said the Earl, "has just been summarily dismissed for – to put it plainly – taking sides with Miss Fosdyke and myself."

"Ho, ho!" exclaimed Polke. "Ah! Well, my lord, there's only one thing to be done, and as your lordship's in town, let us do it at once."

"What?" asked the Earl.

"You must come with me before the borough magistrates – they're sitting now," said Polke, "and make application for a search-warrant. Your lordship will have to swear that you have lost your jewels, and that you have good cause to believe that they may be on the premises occupied lately by Mr. Horbury, to whose care you entrusted them. It's a mere matter of form – we shall get the warrant at once. Then Starmidge and I will go and execute it. Miss Fosdyke – just do what I suggest, if you please. Mr. Neale will take you to Mr. Pellworthy, the solicitor – he was your uncle's solicitor, and a friend of his. Tell him all about your visit to the bank this morning. Say that you insist, as next-of-kin, on having access to your uncle's belongings. Get Mr. Pellworthy to go with you to the bank. Meet Detective-Sergeant Starmidge and me outside there, in, say, half an hour. Then – we'll see what happens. Now, my lord, if you'll come with me, we'll apply for that search-warrant."

As the Scarnham clocks were striking twelve that morning, Gabriel and Joseph Chestermarke looked up from their desks to see Shirley's eyes, large with excitement, gazing at them from the threshold of their private parlour.

"Well?" demanded the senior partner.

The clerk moved nearer to his principal's desk.

"Mr. Polke's outside, sir, with the gentleman who came in with him before," announced Shirley. "He says he must see you at once. And – there's Mr. Pellworthy, sir, with Miss Fosdyke. Mr. Pellworthy says, sir, that he must see you at once, too."

Gabriel glanced at his nephew. And Joseph spoke without looking up from his writing-pad, and as if he knew that his partner was regarding him.

"Bring them all in," he said.

He himself criticized his writing as the four callers were ushered in; he did not even look round at them. Gabriel, more sphinx-like than ever, regarded each in order with an air of distinct disapproval. And he took care to speak first.

"Now, Mr. Pellworthy?" he said sharply. "What do you want?"

Pellworthy, an elderly man, looked at Gabriel with as much disapproval as Gabriel had bestowed on him.

"Mr. Chestermarke," he said quietly, "Miss Fosdyke, as next-of-kin to Mr. John Horbury – my client – desires to see and examine her uncle's effects. As you know very well, she is quite within her rights. I must ask you to give her access to Mr. Horbury's belongings."

"And what do you want, Mr. Polke?" demanded Gabriel.

Polke produced a formal-looking document and held it before the banker's eyes.

"Merely to show you that, Mr. Chestermarke," he answered. "That's a search-warrant, sir! It empowers me and Mr. Starmidge here to search – but I needn't read it to you, Mr. Chestermarke, I think. I suppose we can go into the house now?"

Faint spots of colour showed themselves on Gabriel's cheeks. And again he turned to his nephew. Joseph, however, did not speak. Instead, he turned to the wall at his side and pressed a bell. A moment later a maid-servant opened the private door which communicated with the house, and looked inquiringly and a little nervously inside. Joseph frowned at her.

"I rang twice!" he said. "That meant Mrs. Carswell. Send her here."

The girl hesitated.

"If you please, sir," she said at last, "Mrs. Carswell isn't in, sir, she's out."

Joseph turned sharply – up to this he had remained staring at the papers on his desk; now he twisted completely round in his chair.

"Where is she?" he demanded. "Fetch her!"

"If you please, sir, Mrs. Carswell hasn't been in for quite an hour, sir," said the girl. "She put on her things and went out, sir, just – just after that young lady called this morning. She – she's never come back, sir."

Polke, who was standing close to Starmidge, quietly nudged the detective's elbow. Both men watched the junior partner. And both saw the first signs of something that was very like doubt and anxiety show in his face.

"That'll do!" he said to the servant. He rose slowly from his desk, put a hand in his pocket, and drew out some keys. Without a word, he slightly motioned the visitors to follow him.

Out in the hall stood two men, who in spite of their plain clothes, were obviously policemen. Joseph started and turned to Polke.

"Damn you!" he snarled under his breath. "Are you going to pester us with your whole crew? Send those fellows off at once!"

"Nothing of the sort, Mr. Chestermarke!" replied Polke, in a similar whisper, "I shall bring as many of my men here as I please. It's your own fault – you should have been reasonable this morning. Now, sir, you'll open any door in this house that's locked."

Joseph suddenly paused and handed over the keys he was dangling.

"Open them yourself!" he said.

He turned on his heel, and without another word or look went back into the private parlour. And Polke, opening the door of the dining-room, ushered his party inside, and then stepped back to the two men who were waiting in the hall.

"Smithson," he said to one of them, "you'll stop at the house-door here – inside, mind, so as not to attract attention from any customers coming up this hall to the bank. Jones – come out here with me a minute," he continued, taking the second man outside. "Look here – I've a quiet job for you. You know the housekeeper here – Mrs. Carswell? She's disappeared. May be all right – and it mayn't. Now, you go out and take a look round for her. And go to the cab-stand at the corner of the Moot Hall, and just find out if she's taken a taxi from them, and if so, where she wanted to be driven to. And then come back and tell me – and when you come back, stay inside the house with Smithson."

The policeman nodded his comprehension of these instructions and went out, and Polke turned back to the dining-room and closed the door. He looked at Starmidge.

"Now I'm in your hands," he said quietly. "You take charge of this. What do you wish to do?"

"One thing particularly at first," answered Starmidge. "And we can all work at it. Never mind these secret passages and dark corners and holes in the panels! – at present: we may have a look at these later on. What I do want to find out is – if there's any letter amongst Mr. Horbury's papers making an appointment with him last Saturday evening. To put matters briefly – I want some light on that man who came to the Station Hotel on Saturday, and who presumably came to meet Mr. Horbury."

"I see," said Polke. "Good! Then – first?"