*
“We found him like this,” began Dufresne pointing at Drummond’s motionless form. “Sitting on that chair and muttering to himself, with that blank stare into nowhere.”
“I see,” replied Lord Lodge, observing the Secretary for himself. Drummond sat on a plain wooden chair against the wall, his shoulders slumped and his head back, the complete picture of defeat. His expressionless face drooped, with only his mouth moving slightly, muttering incomprehensibly.
Lodge had just entered with Tiberius after being summoned from the Secretary’s office by Morgan. Dufresne had followed Drummond’s quick retreat from the office straight to Dr. Cleaver’s quarter’s, with Morgan picking up their trail in the main hall. Together they had followed Drummond around the Manor, seemingly at random, until he arrived at Cleaver’s top floor office in one of the towers. Seeing the state Drummond fell into once entering, Morgan had left to get the others.
“Could you make out what he was saying before,” Tiberius asked as he leaned closer to the distraught man. “Because he’s unintelligible now.”
“I think he said; he’s gone, he’s gone, I can’t believe he’s gone,” offered Dufresne trying to remember. “And then he kept repeating he left me.”
“I fear the reality of his situation has overtaken the good Secretary of the Hunt,” mused Lodge as he walked past Drummond and began an inspection of the office.
“Sir?”
“Dr. Cleaver has fled, Tiberius,” Lodge answered as he leafed through some loose pages on the desk. “Leaving his assistant to the wolves, as it were. Obviously the he Drummond is referring to is Cleaver, since we’re in his office. I imagine all the places he visited before arriving here were Cleaver’s haunts within the Manor.”
“But how does he know Cleaver has left and gone for good,” Tiberius asked looking around the office. “He could be down in Rooks Bay, on his way to the Crows Nest, or anywhere on the island.”
“I suspect Drummond knows enough about Dr. Cleaver to recognise the signs. First his engraved surgical case is missing from its normal place of prominence. Second his prized silver plated pistol is also missing. He’s never taken these items from this office since arriving. The third sign is that the door was unlocked.” Lodge had revealed these things as he toured around the room, finally stopping at the door. “Drummond didn’t pick the lock on the door, and Cleaver would have never left this door unlocked unless he no longer had anything to hide.”
“If he had nothing left to hide, does that mean his plans are complete?”
“Possibly,” allowed Lodge thoughtfully. “However all we can confidently say is that his plans do not require remaining in the Manor, but anything beyond that is pure speculation.”
“So what do we do with him?” Tiberius asked as he poked Drummond in the shoulder.
“Take him down to one of the more comfortable holding cells. He’ll eventually recover form the shock, and when he does we’ll resume Lord Pierce’s interrogation. But with slightly less zeal.”
“Very well my Lord. May I suggest I gather the remaining hounds of the Black Pack?”
“Good thinking,” smiled Lodge briefly. “Gather them together and determine the ones who can be trusted. Anyone you have doubts of will go to the cells with Drummond. The rest will help seek out Lord Cleaver on the island. I’ll leave the details to you.”
“And their orders if they find him?”
“He’s to be brought before me alive and unharmed,” ordered Lord Lodge solemnly. “If possible.”