Brian Flynn

“ I was late getting down to the field and had no sooner arrived than up came Sir Charles.
“Fielding, Bill!” He guessed right. “Know you’re pleased!” he grinned.
“Of course—just what I expected! It’ll rain in the night.”
The first wicket put on a few runs and I was chatting to Robertson and Jack Considine while we were waiting for the next man.
“Good Lord,” I heard from behind me.
I turned.
Strolling in, nonchalantly adjusting his left-hand glove, was the very last person I expected to see there—Anthony Bathurst.
“Bless you, Bill,” he smiled. “Seeing you is a reward in itself.” ”

“ But Baddeley silenced him with a buffet to the mouth while Anthony and I flung ourselves upon him. The scuffle was sharp but short. Three against one is merciless odds, and each one of us was bigger than our quarry. A few ineffective kicks and he lay helpless on the ground. Baddeley clicked the bracelets on his wrists.
“Now, Mr. ‘Spider’ Webb,” he cried, “I charge you with the robbery, last night, or to be precise, yesterday morning, of Lady Considine’s pearls, and I warn you that anything you say may be used as evidence against you. Bring him inside, gentlemen.” He called to Roper. ”

“ Remarkable eyes that seemed to apprehend and absorb at a sweep every detail about you that was worth apprehending. A man’s man, and, at the same time, a ladies’ man. For when he chose, he was hard to resist, I assure you. Such, eight years ago, was Anthony Lotherington Bathurst, and such had he promised to be from comparative immaturity, for he had been with me at Uppingham, and afterwards at Oxford.
Which latter fact goes to the prime reason of my being at Considine Manor in the last week of July of the year of the tragedy. ”

“ Baddeley shook his head. “Up to now, sir,” he declared—“it’s got me beat! I find out one thing and seem to see a little light, and then I chance on something else, equally important on the face of it, that knocks my first theory into a cocked hat. Nothing fits! Nothing tallies!”
“I confess that to some extent, I share your bewilderment, Inspector,” said Anthony. “If I knew——”
Baddeley suddenly became vividly alive. “Of course—there may be that explanation.” He swung round on to the three of us. “Any cards last night?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Why?”
“Never mind”—impatiently—“Prescott playing?” ”

“ Then as no answer was forthcoming, “Good Lord, girl, we’ll get him right enough, whether you tell us or not ... make no mistake about that ... it’s merely a question of time ... but, mark my words ... the sooner he tells the truth about the robbery ... the more chance he has of clearing himself with regard to the murder.”
Marshall made as if to speak, but hesitated.
Baddeley saw the advantage he had gained and hastened to follow it up. “The sooner we get to work while the scent is hot, the greater likelihood of finding the murderer,” he said, with decision in his tone. ”

“ One’s thoughts instinctively flew to the whirr of the mowing machine and a real plumb wicket. The insects hummed in the sun, and there was a murmur of bees that gave everybody a feeling that an English summer morning in Sussex could give anything in Creation a start and a beating.
“Toppin’ mornin’—what?” said Prescott. “Feel like gettin’ some more to-day, if we bat.”
“You won’t,” said Dick Arkwright. “You’ll field, and this big brute of a Bill can get rid of some of his disgraceful paunch. He hasn’t had much exercise all the week. ”

“ She was always as fit as a fiddle and better at games than a good many men. She played a smashing good game of tennis, was a steady bat and bowled quite a good ball—slow, with a deceptive flight that did a little bit both ways—was a good hand with a golf-club, and could make a hundred on the billiard-table in double quick time. As I’ve said before in this history—Mary Considine was a peach. ”

“ He sighed. “Such is fame, Helen! Anyhow, when I realized that he was genuinely sore and upset, I tried a different tack. I’m afraid this case would have tried a greater brain than Baddeley’s.”
“Well, I for one, sincerely hope the affair will be settled,” intervened Captain Arkwright. “We are all more or less under a cloud while it remains unsolved—that’s how I feel about it. And others besides us—Hornby, Tennant, Daventry—and all the fellows that were here at the time.” ”

“ Exactly what I say. I am actually thinking too much about a number of points. There are too many clues here, Bill, falling over one another. No wonder Baddeley’s mystified. My job is to separate the true significances from the false. That’s real detective talent, Bill. In this case, there is so much that conflicts. One set of facts, for example, points to the North, and another set, apparently just as authentic, points unerringly to the South. Therefore, they can’t, all of them, be authentic! See? Some must be false. ”

“ Our decision to take another glance at the billiard room and at this bedroom has brought us a great deal of really important information. We’ve progressed.”
“Do you think so?” I queried rather gloomily, I’m afraid. “It seems to me we’re getting deeper and deeper into a kind of morass of doubt and suspicion. Each clue we pick up seems to complicate matters, and contradict the previous one.” I sat on the bed. I really meant all that I said. As far as these discoveries went we seemed to be traveling away from a solution and not towards one.
“Be of good cheer, William,” cried Anthony jocularly. ”

“ I contrasted him with Anthony Bathurst. One of the product of “the Force,” hard-bitten in the school of personal industry, bringing a well-ordered brain to bear on the problem that confronted us, the other, public school and ’Varsity all over, with a brilliant intellect nursed by the terminology of these institutions, treating the affair as an adventure after his own heart. What would Baddeley have done, I found myself wondering, with the other’s opportunities? Where would Anthony have cleared a passage, had he been born Baddeley? ”

“ Grief to the young is a transient matter. It soon becomes impossible—youth’s ardent eagerness engulfs it. It must be so. Grief can find no permanent habitation in the heart of youth. Lady Considine thought of Mrs. Prescott, and the news that would so soon reach her. ”

“ Sir Charles gasped.
“Marshall!” he exclaimed incredulously. “You astound me. And she came with such splendid references. Well, well, well, truly one never knows. My wife’s pearls, Inspector. Do you think there’s any probability of restoring them? You’ve done so splendidly that one becomes quite optimistic.” His eyes gleamed. “And you say you don’t really connect the affair with poor young Prescott?”
“At the moment, Sir Charles, I’m not inclined to link up the two ... and as for your praises”—he turned towards Anthony—“it’s Mr. Bathurst here that put me on the track.” ”

“ Anthony’s absence didn’t make it any the brighter and Mary’s reception of my proposal had left me in an agony of apprehension. One moment I rose to heaven’s heights and “struck the stars with my uplifted head”—the next found me in the depths of an intolerable despair. But generally, I was able to find courage and with courage—optimism! “There is no one else,” she had said. Perhaps I had tried her too closely after Prescott and Prescott’s death. “There is no one else!” Prescott belonged to the past tense. ”

“ A good many of the company knew that the poor young man—with whose relatives he would desire to express his deepest sympathy—had appeared in the last ’Varsity Match at Lords’, and had been invited to Considine Manor to take part in Sir Charles Considine’s Annual Cricket Week. Nothing of any untoward incident had occurred during his stay—they had no evidence of any quarrelling or friction of any kind—yet on the Saturday morning, Prescott had been found lying on the billiard-table—in the—ahem—billiard room—foully murdered. ”

“ If he’s the murderer of Prescott he reckons we’ve got no proof at all ... he’ll try to put up a big bluff. Now where do I stand? All I can put against him so far is a motive, finger-prints on a dagger that has played some part in the crime ... anything else? I can’t put a truculent manner and attitude in as compromising evidence.” He paced the room—backwards and forwards. “Gets a darned sight more complicated every step,” he grumbled.
“This dagger was kept in the drawing-room, wasn’t it, sir?” said Roper. ”

“ Prescott was in the garden last night—after 12 o’clock—and he was not alone! But I’ll find out who was with him! And what’s more, I’ll find the scoundrel that murdered him!” He squared his shoulders.
“You’re certain of what you just told us?” queried Anthony.
“I am.”
“How are you certain?”
“That’s my business, Mr. Bathurst. Try your hand at finding things out yourself.”
“Right-o!” Anthony accepted the challenge laughingly. “Shall we go fifty-fifty with our discoveries?”
“If it suits me.” He turned to Sir Charles.
“I should like now, Sir Charles, to see Mr. Prescott’s bedroom.” ”

“ Bathurst—and the question arises—the natural question if I may call it so—what connection, if any, is there between the two?”
Anthony broke in. “Do you want me to answer that?”
Baddeley held up his hand. “Not for the moment, sir! Let me go on for a bit. My reason tells me that there is a connection—because the murdered man was strangled with a shoe-lace, and the man pinched for the robbery has, as far as I can tell—the identical shoe-lace in his pocket. I’m not exactly a scholar, gentlemen, but you can say he’s caught ‘in flagrante delicto.’” He looked at us. ”

“ Who told you? Come on out with it. It will go all the worse with you, if you don’t.”
“I can’t tell you no more than what I ’ave,” persisted Marshall. “Seeing that corpse on the table was as big a surprise to me as it was to you. And what’s more, you ’aven’t no right to keep me ’ere.”
Baddeley shrugged his shoulders.
“In a few hours’ time you’ll wish you’d told me the truth, my girl,” he said. “Get along now, and don’t play any tricks.”
Marshall made her exit, sullen and defiant. But she was afraid of something I felt sure.
“May I use your telephone, Sir Charles? Thank you. ”

“ Still, they supply a motive! Prescott may have been murdered by the thief ... dead men tell no tales. But there are other people with a motive ... there’s Barker,” he went on thoughtfully, “possibly Hornby ... these are the known motives, what about the unknown—eh?”
100
“The whole thing seems so damned labyrinthine to me,” I muttered.
Anthony assented. “Clear as Thames mud, isn’t it? But it won’t be a bad idea if we sit down and collect our evidence. What do we know as opposed to what we conjecture?” He emphasized the points with his pipe on his finger-tips. ”

“ He wrung Anthony’s hand. Anthony laughed.
“We can get this Webb, I think, Baddeley; ... listen.” He recounted the evidence of Mrs. Hogarth.
Baddeley was respectfully attentive. “You haven’t let the grass grow under your feet, that’s a sure thing,” he declared.
Anthony smiled again. “And I don’t suppose you have either, Inspector, if the truth’s known.”
Baddeley grimaced.
“What do you mean, sir, exactly by that remark?” he queried.
“I can’t forget,” pronounced Anthony, “that there are two most important things still missing: the Barker I.O.U. and the shoe-lace that killed Prescott.” ”

“ Bathurst,” remarked Sir Charles. “There is a great gulf between fiction and real life. Give me Scotland Yard every time.”
“I am ready to. Scotland Yard is a remarkably efficient organization—but——”
“Well, Sir Charles, I think this! Give me a fair start with Scotland Yard, and its resources to call upon, if necessary, and I’ll wager on my results.”
“What about that trumpeter?” from Gerry Prescott.
“Never mind that. I was asked for my opinion and I gave it.”
“In the event of your being on the spot at a murder case, then, you consider that you would solve the mystery quicker than trained men?” ”

“ The Inspector followed him.
“Quite dead, gentlemen—hum—hum—been dead several hours.”
The Inspector carefully withdrew the dagger.
“Try that for any prints, Roper,” he muttered. “It’s just on the cards.”
“Yes, sir,” replied plain clothes; he at once got to work with the “insufflator.”
“Then photograph the body from both sides of the room.”
Roper retired; to return in a few minutes with a camera.
“I think it would be better for you, Baddeley,” declared the doctor, “if you had a good look round before I make my examination. I can do nothing and the cause of death is pretty obvious. ”