CHAPTER XXII

  It was to Merrington's credit as an official that he suppressed hisfeelings as a man on hearing Caldew's story, and did everything possibleto retrieve the situation once he was convinced that Nepcote had fled.Any lingering doubts he may have had were scattered on learning, afterconfidential inquiry at Whitehall, that Captain Nepcote had not put inan appearance at the War Office that day, and had neither requested norbeen granted leave of absence from his duties.

  On receipt of this information Merrington turned to his officetelephone, and, receiver in hand, bellowed forth peremptory instructionswhich set in motion the far-reaching organization of Scotland Yard forthe capture of a fugitive from justice. Nepcote's description wascirculated to police stations, detectives were told off to keep an eyeon outgoing trains and the docks, and the entrances to the tubes andunderground railways were watched. After enclosing London, Merringtonmade a wider cast, and long before nightfall he had flung around Englanda net of fine meshes through which no man could wriggle.

  But it is difficult even for Scotland Yard to lay quick hands on afugitive in the vast city of London, as Merrington well knew. Whilewaiting for the net to close over his destined captive, he decided inthe new strange turn of the case to investigate the whole of thecircumstances afresh. Inquiries set afoot in London, with the object ofdiscovering all that could be learnt of Nepcote's career and VioletHeredith's single life, occupied an important share in Scotland Yard'srenewed investigations into the Heredith murder.

  Caldew was sent to Heredith to look for new facts. He returned after aday's absence with information which might have been obtained before ifchance had not directed suspicion to Hazel Rath: with a story of anunknown young man who had left the London train to Heredith at WeydeneJunction on the night of the murder. The story, as extracted from anunintelligent ticket collector, threw no light on the identity of thestranger beyond a statement that he had worn a long light trench-coat,beneath which the collector had caught a glimpse of khaki uniform as thegentleman felt for his ticket at the barrier.

  On that slight information Caldew had pursued inquiries across a longtwo miles of country between Weydene and the moat-house, and had deemedhimself fortunate in finding a farm labourer who, on his homeward walkthat night, had been passed by a young man in a long coat making rapidlyacross the fields in the direction of Heredith. The labourer had staredafter the retreating figure until it disappeared in the darkness, andhad then gone home without thinking any more of the incident. Caldew wasso impressed by the significance of the second appearance of the man inthe trench-coat that he had timed himself in a fast walk over the sameground from Weydene to the moat-house, and was able to cover thedistance in half an hour. On the basis of these facts, he pointed out toMerrington that, if Nepcote was the man who left the train at Weydene atseven o'clock, he had time to walk across the fields and reach themoat-house by half-past seven, which was ten minutes before the murderwas committed.

  Merrington admitted the possibility, but refused to accept theinference. He was forced by recent events to accept the theory ofNepcote's implication in the mystery, but he was not prepared to believewithout much more definite proof that he was the murderer. He was stillstrong in his belief that Hazel Rath was the person who had killed Mrs.Heredith, whatever the young man's share in the crime might be. Thediscovery about the man in the trench-coat was all very well as far asit went, and perhaps formed another clue in the puzzling set ofcircumstances of the case, but it did not carry them very far, andcertainly did nothing to lessen the weight of evidence against the girlwho was charged with the murder.

  Merrington was forced back on the conclusion that the most importantstep towards the solution of the mystery was to lay hold of Nepcote, andto that end he directed his own efforts and that of the service of thegreat organization at his command. As the days went on, he supplementedhis original arrangements for Nepcote's arrest with guileful traps. Thefemale dragon who guarded masculine reputations at 10, Sherryman Street,was badgered into cold anger by pretty girls, who sought with tips andblandishments to glean scraps of information about the missing tenant.Scented letters in female handwriting, marked "Important," appeared inthe letter racks of Nepcote's West End clubs. Merrington even insertedan advertisement in the "Personal" column of the _Times_, setting fortha touching female appeal to Nepcote for a meeting in a sequestered spot.

  At the end of three days, with no sign of Nepcote in that period,Merrington was compelled to make application to the Sussex magistratesfor another adjournment of the police court proceedings, on the groundthat fresh information needed investigation before Scotland Yard couldproceed with the charge against Hazel Rath. An additional week wasgranted with reluctance by the chairman of the bench, a Nonconformistdraper with political ambitions, who seized the opportunity to impressthe electors of a constituency he was nursing for the next generalelection by making some spirited remarks on the sanctity of Britishliberty, which he coupled with a scathing reference to the dilatorymethods of Scotland Yard. He let it be understood that the police mustbe prepared at the next hearing to go on with the charge against theprisoner or withdraw it altogether.

  In the face of these awkward alternatives, Merrington pursued the questfor Nepcote with vigour. The men working immediately under hisinstructions were spurred into an excess of energy which brought aboutthe detention of several young men who could not adequately explainthemselves or their right to liberty in the great city of London. Butnone of these captures turned out to be Nepcote. Merrington believed hewas hiding in London, but at the end of five days he still remainedmysteriously at liberty in spite of the constant search for him. Heseemed to have disappeared as completely as though he had passed out ofthe world and merged his identity into a chiselled name and a banalaspiration on a tombstone.

  In the angry consciousness of failure, Merrington was not blind to thefact that he had only his own impetuosity to blame for allowing Nepcoteto slip through his fingers. His mistake was due to his dislike ofprivate detectives and his unbelief in modern deductive methods of crimesolution. His own system, which is the system of Scotland Yard, wasbased on motive and knowledge. If he found a strong motive for a crimehe searched for the person to whom it pointed. If there was no apparentmotive he fell back on his great knowledge of the underworld and itsdenizens to fit a criminal to the crime. The system has its measure ofsuccess, as the records of Scotland Yard attest.

  Merrington had brought both methods to bear in his handling of theHeredith case. When his original investigations failed to reveal amotive for the murder, he determined to return to London to ascertainwhat dangerous criminals were at liberty who might have committed themurder. His own view then was that the murder was the work of an oldhand who had entered the moat-house to commit burglary, and had murderedMrs. Heredith to escape identification. The isolation of the moat-house,the presence of guests with valuable jewels, the time chosen for thecrime, and the scream of the victim, tended to confirm him in thisbelief. Caldew's chance discovery about Hazel Rath, and the subsequentevents which arrayed such strong circumstantial evidence against her,brought the other side of the system uppermost and set Merringtonseeking for a motive which would accord with the presumption of thegirl's guilt. Having found that motive, he was satisfied that he haddone his duty, and he thought very little more about the case.

  It was his tenacious adhesion to conservative methods which caused himto blunder in his treatment of Colwyn's information about the missingnecklace. He rarely acted on impulse. His habitual distrust of humanitywas deep, and to it was wedded a wariness which was the heritage of longexperience. But his obstinate conviction of Hazel Rath's guilt led himto make a false move in his effort to square the loss of the necklacewith the evidence against the girl. His own poor opinion of human naturehindered him from seeing, as Colwyn had seen, any inconsequence betweensuch widely different motives as maddened love and theft; that was oneof those subtle differentiations of human psychology in which hiscoarse-grained temperament was at
fault. It is probable thatMerrington's dislike of private detectives contributed to obscure hisjudgment at a critical moment. He was unable to see that Colwyn, byreason of his intellect and practical capacity, stood in a class apartand alone.

  In his contemplation of the case Merrington's thoughts turned to Colwyn,and he wondered in what direction the private detective's investigationsinto the case had progressed--if they had progressed at all--since hehad seen him last. In a chastened mood, he reflected that Colwyn had notonly given him a warning which was annoyingly different from otheradvice in being well worth following, but had acted generously ininforming him of the missing necklace when he might have kept thediscovery to himself, in order to score a point over Scotland Yard andplace one of the Yard's most distinguished officials in an awkwardposition.

  With a belated but unconscious recognition of an intelligence which farsurpassed his own, Merrington felt that it would be worth while to haveanother talk with Colwyn, in the hope of finding some way out of theperplexities in which he had plunged himself by permitting Nepcote toescape.

  The next interview, which was of his seeking, took place at Colwyn'srooms in the evening, after Merrington had previously arranged for it bytelephone. The face of the private detective revealed neither surprisenor resentment at the sight of Merrington. He invited his guest to sitdown, and then seated himself a little distance from the table, on whichwhisky and cigars were set out.

  "Well, Mr. Colwyn, you were right and I was wrong about that fellowNepcote," Merrington commenced, realizing that it was best to come tothe point at once. "I wish now that I had followed your advice."

  "If you hadn't gone to see him perhaps you wouldn't know as much as youknow now," said Colwyn drily.

  "That's one way of looking at it," responded Merrington with his greatlaugh. "Unfortunately, that interview caused Nepcote to bolt, and so farhe has shown us a clean pair of heels."

  "You've had no news of him?"

  "Only a lot of false reports. I am convinced that he is still hiding inLondon, but the trouble is to get hold of him. These infernal darkenedstreets make it more difficult. A wanted man can walk along them atnight right under the nose of the police without fear of being seen."

  "Have you made any fresh discoveries about the case?"

  "We have ascertained that a man who may have been Nepcote was seen nearthe moat-house on the night of the murder."

  Colwyn nodded indifferently. The tracing of Nepcote's movements on thenight of the murder was to him one of the minor points of the problem,like the first pawn move in chess--essential, but without realsignificance, in view of the inevitable inference of the flight.

  "I have been working on the case from this end," he said.

  "In what direction?"

  "Trying to arrive at the beginning of the mystery. I have beenendeavouring to find out something about Mrs. Heredith's earlier life.It struck me that it might throw some light on the subsequent events."

  "I have been investigating along similar lines. Shall we compare notes?"

  "With pleasure, but I should think that you have been able to find outmore than I have been able to discover single-handed. For one thing, Ihave seen Lady Vaughan, the wife of Sir William Vaughan, of the WarOffice. She is a kind and gracious woman, taking a great interest in thehundreds of girl clerks employed at her husband's department inWhitehall. Last winter she gave a series of dances at her house inKnightsbridge, and the girls were invited in turns. Mr. Heredith waspresent at one of these functions."

  "So much I know," said Merrington.

  "Then you are probably aware that Captain Nepcote was also present thatevening, and brought several other young officers with him. It was hewho introduced Philip Heredith to the girl whom he afterwards married."

  "I knew Nepcote was a guest at one of the dances, but it is news to methat he introduced the girl to young Heredith. Lady Vaughan did not tellus this."

  "Lady Vaughan did not know. I ascertained the fact later from one of theguests who witnessed the introduction. I attach some importance to thepoint. Last winter Philip Heredith and Nepcote were on fairly intimateterms, working together in the same room at the War Office, andsometimes going together to the houses of mutual friends. It wasevidently a case of the attraction of opposites."

  "It must have been," replied Merrington emphatically. "I have hadinquiries made about Nepcote, and I should not have thought he wouldhave appealed to Mr. Heredith. There is nothing actually wrong so far aswe can learn, but he had the reputation, before the war, of a fast andidle young man about town, with a weakness for women and gambling. Hecame into a few thousands some years ago, but soon spent it. I imaginethat he has subsisted principally on credit and gambling since hesquandered his money, for he is certainly not the type of man to live onhis pay as an officer. As a matter of fact, he was in serious troublewith the Army authorities recently for not paying his mess bills inFrance. He was not brought up to the Army, and he has seen very littleactive service. He got his captain's commission about twelve monthsafter the war commenced, when the War Office was handing out commissionslike boxes of matches, but he managed to keep under the Whitehallumbrella until quite recently. He seems to have a bit of a pullsomewhere, though I cannot find out where. Perhaps it is his charm ofmanner--everybody who knows him says he has a charming manner, though itwasn't apparent to me that night I interviewed him at his flat."

  "Perhaps he was too afraid to exercise it on that occasion," suggestedColwyn, with a smile. "He must have thought that it was all up withhim."

  "Have you discovered anything about Mrs. Heredith's antecedents?" askedMerrington with an abruptness which suggested that he had little relishfor the last remark.

  "Very little, apart from the fact that she lived in rooms, and had noreal girl friends, so far as I can ascertain. Apparently she was a girlwho played a lone hand, as they say in America. The type is not uncommonin large cities. My information, such as it is, is not of the leastimportance one way or the other."

  "I have learnt very little more than you, except that she changed herrooms pretty frequently, but always kept within an easy radius of theWest End, living in dull but respectable neighbourhoods like RussellSquare and Woburn Place. It was precious little time she spent there,though. The people of these places know nothing about her except thatshe used to go out in the morning and did not return till late atnight--generally in a taxi, and alone, so far as is known. She was,apparently, one of those bachelor girls who have sprung into existencein thousands during the war--one of that distinct species who trade ontheir good looks and are out for a good time, but keep sufficiently onthe safe side of the fence to be careful of their reputations. It's partof their stock in trade.

  "Such girls contrive to go everywhere and see everything at the expenseof young men with more money than brains, who have been caught by theirlooks. It's the Savoy for lunch, a West End restaurant for dinner,revue, late supper, and home in a taxi--with perhaps, a kiss for the lotby way of payment. The War Office was a godsend to this type of girl. Itgives them jobs with nothing to do, with a kind of official standingthrown in, and the chance of meeting plenty of young officers over onleave from the front, with money to burn and hungry for pretty Englishfaces. It is difficult to find out anything about these bachelor girls.They have no homes--only a place to sleep in--they confide in nobody,and their men friends will never give them away. Almost any woman willgive away a man, but I have never yet known a man give away a woman."

  "If Mrs. Heredith was that type of girl, it is possible that some earlyepisode or forgotten flirtation in her past life is mixed up with themystery of her death."

  "You think that, do you?" asked Merrington regarding his companionattentively.

  "How else can we explain Nepcote's appearance in the mystery, except onthe ground that he may have murdered her for the necklace? It isimportant to bear in mind that Nepcote knew her in her single days. Ifshe had a secret she has taken it to the grave with her. There remainsNepcote, who is deeply implicated in t
he case in some way. You may learnsomething from him if you can catch him and induce him to speak, thoughI must confess I find it difficult to reconcile the supposition that hecommitted the murder with the known circumstances of the case."

  "There I agree with you," exclaimed Merrington. "What is Hazel Rath'sposition if we admit any such supposition? Nothing has yet come to lightto shake the evidence which points to her as the person who murderedMrs. Heredith."

  "Does she still refuse to speak?"

  "Yes. She is as obstinate as a mule and as mute as a fish. I sent a veryclever woman detective down to the gaol at Lewes to try and coax her tosay something, but she could get nothing out of her. She said she had nostatement to make, and nothing whatever to say. She refused to go beyondthat."

  "She may have some strong reason for keeping silence," remarked Colwynthoughtfully. "Arrested persons sometimes remain silent under a gravecharge because they are anxious to keep certain knowledge in theirpossession from the police. Nepcote's implication in the case lendscolour to the theory that Hazel Rath may be keeping silent for some suchpurpose."

  "In order to shield Nepcote?"

  "It is possible, though I do not think we are in a position to inferthat much without further knowledge. But now that we know that Nepcoteis connected with the case I certainly think that a strong effort shouldbe made to induce Hazel Rath to speak."

  "It is not to be done," replied Merrington, with an emphatic shake ofthe head. "The girl is not to be drawn."

  "Have you told her about the recent developments of the case?"

  "About Nepcote, do you mean?"

  "Yes."

  "Certainly not," replied Merrington, in a tone of outraged officialism."To give the girl that piece of information before I know what it meanswould place such a powerful weapon in the hands of the lawyer for thedefence that I should have to withdraw the charge against Hazel Rath atthe next police court proceedings if I did not arrest Nepcote in themeantime. I do not want any dramatic developments--as the idioticnewspapers call it--in my cases. There is a certain amount of publicsympathy with this girl already."

  "I think you stand to gain more than you lose by telling her thatNepcote is suspected."

  "I prefer to arrest Nepcote first. We may get him at any moment, andthen, I hope, we shall find out where we stand in this case. But what doyou mean by saying that I have more to gain than lose by telling thegirl about him?"

  "If she is keeping silent to shield Nepcote, she is likely to reveal thetruth when she knows that there is nothing more to be gained by silence.She will then begin to think of herself. In my opinion, you have now anexcellent weapon in your hand to force her to speak."

  "Can we go so far as to assume that she is keeping silence to shieldhim? Let us assume that they went to Mrs. Heredith's room together forthe purpose of murder and robbery. The girl, we will suppose, fired theshot and Nepcote escaped from the window with the necklace. Is HazelRath likely to reveal such a story when she knows it will not saveherself?"

  "Your assumptions carry you too far," returned Colwyn. "Our presumptiveknowledge does not take us that distance. Till Nepcote's share in thecase is explained it is useless indulging in speculations outside ourpremises. Let us defer inferences until we have marshalled more facts.We do not know whether more than one pair of eyes witnessed the murderof Mrs. Heredith; the theory that Hazel Rath fired the shot is merely apresumption of fact, and not an actual certainty. Much is still hiddenin this case, and the question is, can Hazel Rath enlighten us? As sheand Nepcote are now both implicated, it seems to me that the bestinducement to get her to speak is by letting her know that you havearrested Nepcote. In my opinion, the experiment is well worth trying."

  Merrington rose to his feet and paced across the room, pondering overthe proposal.

  "I am inclined to believe you are right," he said. "At any rate, I shallgo down to Lewes to-morrow and put it to the test. I would ask you toaccompany me, but it would be a little irregular."

  "I shall be content to learn the result," Colwyn answered.