The Chestermarke Instinct

"Here's his desk – and its drawers," suggested Starmidge. "Now, let us all four take a drawer each and see if we can find any such letter. I'm going on the presumption that this stranger came down to see Mr. Horbury, and that on his arrival he telephoned up to let him know he'd got here. If that presumption is correct, then, in all probability, there'd been previous correspondence between them as to the man's visit."

"If that man came to see Mr. Horbury," remarked the solicitor, "why didn't he come straight here to the bank-house?"

"That's just where the mystery lies, sir," replied Starmidge. "All the mystery of the affair lies in that man's coming at all! Let me find out who that man was, and what he came for, and if he and Mr. Horbury met, and where they went when they did meet – and I'll soon tell you – what would probably make your hair stand on end!" he muttered to himself, as he pulled a drawer out of the desk and placed it on a centre table before Betty. "Now, Miss Fosdyke, you get to work on that."

For over an hour the four curiously assorted searchers examined the contents of the missing man's desk, of another desk in the study, of certain letter-racks which hung above the mantelpieces in both rooms, of drawers in these rooms, of drawers and small cabinets in his bedroom. Starmidge turned out the pockets of all the clothing he could find: opened suit-cases, trunks, dressing-cases. They found nothing of the nature desired. And just as half-past one came, and Polke was wondering what Starmidge would do next, Jones came back and called him into the inner hall.

"I've got some news of her," he whispered. "She's off – from Scarnham, anyway, sir! I couldn't get any word of her in the town, nor at the cab-places: in fact, it's only within this last five minutes that I've got it."

"Well?" demanded Polke eagerly. "And what is it?"

"Young Mitchell, who has a taxi-cab of his own, you know," said Jones. "He told me – heard I was inquiring. He says that at half-past ten, just as he was coming out of his shed in River Street, Mrs. Carswell came up and asked him to drive her into Ecclesborough. He did – they got there at half-past eleven: he set her down at the Exchange Station. Then he came back – alone. So – she's got two hours' good start, sir – if she really is off!"

CHAPTER XII

THE FIRST FIND

Polke took a step or two on the pavement outside the bank, meditating on this latest development of a matter that was hourly growing in mystery. Why had this woman suddenly disappeared? Had she merely gone to Ecclesborough for the day? – or had she made it her first stage in a further journey? Why had she taken a taxi-cab for an eighteen-miles' ride, at considerable expense, when, at twelve o'clock, she could have got a train which would have carried her to Ecclesborough for fifteen pence? It seemed as if she had fled. And if she had fled, she had got, as the constable said, two hours' good start. And in Ecclesborough, too! – a place with a population of half a million, where there were three big railway stations, from any one of which a fugitive could set off east, west, north, south, at pleasure, and with no risk of attracting attention. Two hours! – Polke knew from long experience what can be done in two hours by a criminal escaping from justice.

He turned back to speak to his man – and as he turned, Joseph Chestermarke came out of the bank. Joseph gave him an insolent stare, and was about to pass him without recognition. But Polke stopped him.

"Mr. Chestermarke, you heard that the housekeeper here has disappeared?" he asked sharply. "Can you tell anything about it?"

"What have I to do with Horbury's housekeeper?" retorted Joseph. "Do your own work!"

He passed on, crossing the Market-Place to the Scarnham Arms, and Polke, after gazing at him in silence for a moment, beckoned to his policeman.

"Come inside, Jones," he said. He led the way into the house and through the hall to the kitchens at the back, where two women servants stood whispering together. Polke held up a finger to the one who had answered Joseph Chestermarke's summons to the parlour that morning. "Here!" he said, "a word with you. Now, exactly when did Mrs. Carswell go out? You needn't be afraid of speaking, my girl – it'll go no further, and you know who I am."

"Not so very long after that young lady was here, Mr. Polke," answered the girl, readily enough. "Within – oh, a quarter of an hour at the most."

"Did she say where she was going – to either of you?" asked Polke.

"No, sir – not a word!"

"To neither of us," said the other – an older – woman, drawing nearer. "She – just went, Mr. Polke."

"Had any message – telegram, or aught of that sort – come for her?" asked Polke. "Had anybody been to see her?"

"There was no message that I know of," said the housemaid. "But Mr. Joseph came to speak to her."

"When?" demanded Polke.

"Just after the young lady had gone. He called her out of the kitchen, and they stood talking in the passage there a bit," answered the elder woman. "Of course, Mr. Polke, we didn't hear naught – but we saw 'em."

"What happened after that?" asked Polke.

"Naught! – but that Mr. Joseph went away, and she came back in here for a minute or two and then went upstairs. And next thing she came down dressed up and went out. She said nothing to us," replied the woman.

"You saw her go out?" said Polke.

Both women pointed to the passage which communicated with the hall.

"When this door's open – as it was," said one, "you can see right through. Yes – we saw her go through the hall door. Of course we thought she'd just slipped out into the town for something."

Polke hesitated – and meditated. What use was it, at that juncture, to ask for more particular details of this evident flight? Mrs. Carswell was probably well away from Ecclesborough by that time. He turned back to the hall – and then looked at the women again.

"I suppose neither of you ever saw or heard aught of Mr. Horbury on Saturday night – after he'd gone out?" he inquired.

The two women glanced at each other in silence.

"Did you?" repeated Polke. "Come, now!"

"Well, Mr. Polke," said the elder woman, "we didn't. But, of course, we know what's going on – couldn't very well not know, now could we, Mr. Polke? And we can tell you something that may have to do with things."

"Out with it, then!" commanded Polke. "Keep nothing back."

"Well," said the woman, "there was somebody stirring about this house in the middle of Saturday night – between, say, one and two o'clock in the morning – Sunday morning, of course. Both me and Jane here heard 'em – quite plain. And we thought naught of it, then – leastways, what we did think was that it was Mr. Horbury. He often came in very late. But when we found out next morning that he'd never come home – why, then, we did think it was queer that we'd heard noises."

"Did you mention that to Mrs. Carswell?" asked Polke.

"Of course! – but she said she'd heard nothing, and it must have been rats," replied the elder woman.

"But I've been here three years and I've never seen a rat in the place."

"Nor me!" agreed the housemaid. "And it wasn't rats. I heard a door shut – twice. Plain as I'm speaking to you, Mr. Polke."

Polke reflected a minute and then turned away.

"All right, my lasses!" he said. "Well, keep all this to yourselves. Here – I'll tell you what you can do. Send Miss Fosdyke a nice cup of tea into the study – send us all one! – we can't leave what we're doing just yet. And a mouthful of bread and butter with it. Come along, Jones," he continued, leading the constable away. "Here, you step round to old Mr. Batterley's – you know where he lives – near the Castle. Mr. Polke's compliments, and would he be so good as to come to the bank-house and help us a bit? – he'll know what I mean. Bring him back with you."

The constable went away, and Polke, after rubbing one of his mutton-chop whiskers for awhile with an air of great abstraction, returned to the study. There Mr. Pellworthy and Betty Fosdyke were talking earnestly in one of the window recesses; Starmidge, at the furthest end of the room, was examining the old oak panelling.

"I've sent for Mr. Batterley to give us a hand," said Polke. "I suppose we'd best examine this room in the way he suggested?"

Starmidge betrayed no enthusiasm.

"If he can do any good," he answered. "But I don't attach much importance to that. However – if there are any secret places around – "

"There's a nice cup of tea coming in for you and Mr. Pellworthy in a minute, Miss Fosdyke," said Polke. "We'll all have to put our dinner off a bit, I reckon." He motioned to the detective to follow him out of the room. "Here's a nice go!" he whispered. "The housekeeper's off! Bolted – without a doubt! And – she's got a clear start, too."

Starmidge turned sharply on the superintendent.

"Got any clue to where she's gone?" he demanded.

"She's gone amongst five hundred thousand other men and women," replied Polke ruefully. "I've found out that much. Drove off in a taxi-cab to Ecclesborough, as soon as Miss Fosdyke had been here this morning. And – mark you! – after a few minutes' conversation with Joseph Chestermarke. Ecclesborough, indeed! Might as well look for a drop of water in the ocean as for one woman in Ecclesborough! She was set down at the Exchange Station – why, she may be half-way to London or Liverpool, or Hull, by now!"

Starmidge was listening intently. And passing over the superintendent's opinions and regrets, he fastened on his facts.

"After a few minutes' conversation with Joseph Chestermarke, you say?" he observed. "How do you know that?"

"The servants told me, just now," replied Polke.

Starmidge glanced at the door of the private parlour.

"He's gone out," said Polke.

Just then the door opened and Gabriel emerged, closing and locking it after him. He paid no attention to the two men, and was passing on towards the outer hall when Polke hailed him.

"Mr. Chestermarke," he said, "sorry to trouble you – do you know that the housekeeper, Mrs. Carswell, has disappeared? You heard what that girl said this morning? Well, she hasn't come back, and – "

"No concern of mine, Mr. Police-Superintendent!" interrupted Gabriel. "Nothing of this is any concern of mine. I shall be obliged to you if you'll confine your very unnecessary operations to the interior of the house, and not stand about this outer hall, or keep this door open between outer and inner halls – I don't want my customers interfered with as they come and go."

With that the senior partner passed on, and Starmidge smiled at his companion.

"I'm glad he interrupted you, all the same, Mr. Polke," he said. "I was afraid you were going to say that you knew this woman had gone, in a hurry, to Ecclesborough."

"No, I wasn't," replied Polke. "I told him what I did – because I wanted to know what he'd say."

"Well – you heard!" said Starmidge. "And what's to be done, now? That woman's conduct is very suspicious. I think, if I were you, Mr. Polke, I should get in touch with the Ecclesborough police. Why not? No harm done. Why not call them up, give them a description of her, and ask them to keep their eyes open. She mayn't have left Ecclesborough – mayn't intend leaving. For – look here – !" he drew Polke further away from the two doors between which they were standing, and lowered his voice to a whisper – "Supposing," he went on, "supposing there is any secret understanding between this Mrs. Carswell and Joseph Chestermarke (and it looks like it, if she went off immediately after a conversation with him), she may have gone to Ecclesborough simply so that they could meet there, safely, later on. Eh?"

"Good notion!" agreed Polke. "Well – we can watch him."

"I'm beginning to think we must watch him – thought so for the last two hours," said Starmidge. "But in the meantime, why not put the Ecclesborough police on to keeping their eyes open for her? Can you give them a good description?"

"Know her as well as I know my own wife – by sight," answered Polke. "And her style of dressing, too. All right – I'll go and do it, now. Well, there'll be Mr. Batterley coming along in a few minutes – Jones has gone for him. If he can show you any of their secret places he talked about – "

"He's here," said Starmidge, as the old antiquary and the constable entered the hall. "All right – I'll attend to him."

But when Polke had gone, and Batterley had been conducted into the study, or garden-room as he insisted on calling it, Starmidge left the old man with Mr. Pellworthy and Betty and made an excuse to go out of the room after the housemaid, who had just brought in the tea for which Polke had asked. He caught her at the foot of the staircase, and treated her to one of his most ingratiating smiles.

"I say!" he said, "Mr. Polke's just been telling me about what you and the cook told him about Mrs. Carswell – you know. Now, I say – you needn't say anything – except to cook – but I just want to take a look round Mrs. Carswell's room. Which is it?"

The cook, who kept the kitchen door open so as not to lose anything of these delightful proceedings, came forward. Both accompanied Starmidge upstairs to show him the room he wanted. And Starmidge thanked them profusely and in his best manner – after which he turned them politely out and locked the door.

Meanwhile Polke went to the police-station and rang up the Ecclesborough police on the telephone. He gave them a full, accurate, and precise description of Mrs. Carswell, and a detailed account of her doings that morning, and begged them to make inquiry at the three great stations in their town. The man with whom he held conversation calmly remarked that as each station at Ecclesborough dealt with a few thousands of separate individuals every day, it was not very likely that booking-clerks or platform officials would remember any particular persons, and Polke sorrowfully agreed with him. Nevertheless, he begged him to do his best – the far-off partner in this interchange of remarks answered that they would do a lot better if Mr. Polke would tell them something rather more definite. Polke gave it up at that, and went off into the Market-Place again, to return to the bank. But before he reached the bank he ran across Lord Ellersdeane, who, hanging about the town to hear some result of the search, had been lunching at the Scarnham Club, and now came out of its door.

"Any news so far?" asked the Earl.

Polke glanced round to see that nobody was within hearing. He and Lord Ellersdeane stepped within the doorway of the club-house. Polke narrated the story of the various happenings since the granting of the search-warrant, and the Earl's face grew graver and graver.

"Mr. Polke," he said at last, "I do not like what I am hearing about all this. It's a most suspicious thing that the housekeeper should disappear immediately after Miss Fosdyke's first call this morning, and that she should have had some conversation with Mr. Joseph Chestermarke before she went. Really, one dislikes to have to say it of one's neighbours, and of persons of the standing of the Chestermarkes, but their behaviour is – is – "

"Suspicious, my lord, suspicious!" said Polke. "There's no denying it. And yet, they're what you might call so defiant, so brazen-faced and insolent, that – "

"Here's your London man," interrupted the Earl. "What is he after now?"

Starmidge came out of the door of the bank-house alone. He caught sight of Polke and Lord Ellersdeane, smiled, and hurried towards them. He carried something loosely wrapped in brown paper in his hand; as he stepped into the doorway of the club-house, he took the wrapping off, and showed a small morocco-covered box on which was a coronet in gold.

"Does your lordship recognize that?" he asked.

"My wife's jewel-casket, of course!" exclaimed the Earl. "Of course it is! Bless me! – where did you find it?"

"In the chimney, in Mrs. Carswell's bedroom," answered Starmidge, with a grimace at Polke. "It's empty!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE PARTNERS UNBEND

The Earl took the empty casket from the detective's hand and looked at it, inside and outside, with doubt and wonder.

"Now what do you take this to mean?" he asked.

"That we've got three people to find, instead of two, my lord," answered Starmidge promptly. "We must be after the housekeeper."

"You found this in her room?" asked Polke. "So – you went up there?"

"As soon as you'd left me," replied the detective, with a shrewd smile. "Of course! I wanted to have a look round. I didn't forget the chimney. She'd put that behind the back of the grate – a favourite hiding-place. I say she – but, of course, some one else may have put it there. Still – we must find her. You telephoned to the police at Ecclesborough, superintendent?"

"Ay, and got small comfort!" answered Polke. "It's a stiff job looking for one woman amongst half a million people."

"She wouldn't stop in Ecclesborough," said Starmidge. "She'll be on her way further afield, now. You can get anywhere from Ecclesborough, of course."

"Of course!" assented Polke. "She would be in any one of half a dozen big towns within a couple of hours – in some of 'em within an hour – in London itself within three. This'll be another case of printing a description. I wish we'd thought of keeping an eye on her before!"

"We haven't got to the stage where we can think of everything," observed Starmidge. "We've got to take things as they come. Well – there's one thing can be done now," he went on, looking at the Earl, "if your lordship'll be kind enough to do it."

"I'll do anything that I can," replied Lord Ellersdeane. "What is it?"

"If your lordship would just make a call on the two Mr. Chestermarkes," suggested Starmidge. "To tell them, of course, of – that," he added, pointing to the empty casket. "Your lordship will get some attention – I suppose. They won't give any attention to Polke or myself. If your lordship would just tell them that your casket – emptied of its valuable contents – had been found hidden in Mrs. Carswell's room, perhaps they'll listen, and – what is much more important – give you their views on the matter. I," concluded Starmidge, drily, "should very much like to hear them!"

The Earl made a wry face.

"Oh, all right!" he answered. "If I must, I must. It's not a job that appeals to me, but – very well. I'll go now."

"And we," said Starmidge, turning to Polke, "had better join the others and see if the old antiquary gentleman has found any of these secret places he talked of."

Lord Ellersdeane found no difficulty in obtaining access to the partners: he was shown into their room with all due ceremony as soon as Shirley announced him. He found them evidently relaxing a little after their lunch, from which they had just returned. They were standing in characteristic attitudes; Gabriel, smoking a cigar, bolt upright on the hearth-rug beneath the portrait of his ancestor; Joseph, toying with a scented cigarette, leaning against the window which looked out on the garden. For once in a way both seemed more amenable and cordial.

The Earl held out the empty casket.

"This," he said, "is the casket in which I handed my wife's jewels to Mr. Horbury. It is, as you see, empty. It has just been found by the Scotland Yard man, Starmidge."

Gabriel glanced at the casket with some interest; Joseph, with none: neither spoke.

"In the housekeeper's room – hidden in her fire-place," continued the Earl, looking from one partner to the other. "That shows, gentlemen, that the jewels were, after all, in this house – on these premises."

"There has never been any question of that," said Gabriel quickly. "We, of course, never doubted what your lordship was good enough to tell us – naturally!"

"Not for a moment!" said Joseph. "We felt at once that you had given the jewels to Horbury."

The Earl set the casket down on Gabriel's desk and looked a little uncertain – and uncomfortable. Gabriel indicated the chair which he had politely moved forward on his visitor's entrance.

"Won't your lordship sit down?" he said.

The Earl accepted the invitation and looked from one man to the other. A sudden impression crossed his mind – never, he thought, were there two men from whom it was so difficult to get a word as these Chestermarkes – who had such a queer habit of staring in silence at one!

"The – the housekeeper appears to have run away," he said haltingly. "That's – somewhat queer, isn't it?"

"We understand Mrs. Carswell has left the house – and the town," replied Gabriel. "As to it's being queer – well, all this is queer!"

"And – all of a piece!" remarked Joseph.

The Earl was glad that the junior partner made that remark, and he turned to him.

"I understand you saw her – and spoke to her – just before she left, this morning?" he said hesitatingly. "Did she – er – give you the impression of being – shall we say, uneasy?"

"I certainly saw her – and spoke to her," asserted Joseph. "I went to scold her. I had given her orders that no one was to be allowed access to certain rooms in the house, and that we were not to be bothered by callers. She fetched me out to see Miss Fosdyke – I went to scold her for that. We had our reasons for not permitting access to those rooms. They have, of course, been frustrated."

"But at any rate some good's come of it," observed the Earl, pointing to his casket. "This has been found. And – in the housekeeper's bedroom. Hidden! And – she's gone. What do you think of it, gentlemen?"

Gabriel spread his hands and shook his head. But Joseph answered readily.

"I should think," he replied, "that's she's gone to meet Horbury."

The Earl started, glancing keenly from one partner to the other.

"Then – you still think that Horbury is guilty of – of dishonesty!" he exclaimed. "Really, I – dear me, such an absolutely upright, honourable man – "

"Surface!" said Joseph quietly. "Surface! On the surface, my lord."

The Earl's face flushed a little with palpable displeasure, and he turned from the junior to the senior partner.

"Very good of your lordship," said Gabriel, with the faintest suggestion of a smile. "But – a man's honesty is bounded by his necessity. We, of course, are better acquainted with our late manager's qualities – now."

"You have discovered – something?" asked the Earl anxiously.

"Up to now," replied Gabriel, "we have kept things to ourselves. But we don't mind giving your lordship a little – just a little – information. There is no doubt that Horbury had, for some time past, engaged in speculation in stocks and shares – none whatever!"

"To a considerable extent," added Joseph.

"And – unsuccessfully?" inquired the Earl.

"We are not yet quite sure of the details," answered Gabriel. "The mere fact is enough. Of course, no man in his position has any right to speculate. Had we known that he speculated – "

"He would have been discharged from our service," said Joseph. "No banker can retain the services of a manager who – gambles."

The Earl began to feel almost as uncomfortable as if these two men were charging him with improper transactions. He was a man of simple mind and ideas, and he supposed the Chestermarkes knew what they were talking about.

"Then you think that this sudden disappearance – " he said.

"In the history of banking – unwritten, possibly," remarked Joseph, "there are many similar instances. No end of them, most likely. Bank managers enjoy vast opportunities of stealing, my lord! And the man who is best trusted has more opportunities than the man who's watched. We never suspected – and so we never watched."

"You have heard of the stranger who came to the town on Saturday night, and is believed to have telephoned from the Station Hotel to Horbury?" asked the Earl. "What of him?"

"We have heard," answered Gabriel. "We don't know any more. We don't know any such person – from the description. But we have no doubt he did meet Horbury – and that his visit had something – probably everything – to do with Horbury's disappearance."

"But how could he disappear?" asked the Earl. "I mean to say – how could such a well-known man disappear so completely, without anybody knowing of it? It seems impossible!"

"If your lordship will think for a moment," said Joseph, "you will see that it is not merely not impossible, but very easy. Horbury was a great pedestrian – he used to boast of his thirty and forty mile walks. Now we are well within twenty miles of Ecclesborough. Ecclesborough is a very big town. What was there to prevent Horbury, during Saturday night, from walking across country to Ecclesborough? Nothing! If, after interviewing that strange man, he decided to clear out at once, he'd nothing to do but set off – over a very lonely stretch of country, every inch of which he knew – to Ecclesborough: he would be in Ecclesborough by an early hour in the morning. Now in Ecclesborough there are three stations – big stations. He could get away from any one of them – what booking-clerk or railway official would pay any particular attention to him? The thing is – ridiculously easy!"