CHAPTER XXI
THE INTERRUPTED FLIGHT
Twenty-four hours after he had seen Stoner fall headlong into HobwickQuarry, Mallalieu made up his mind for flight. And as soon as he hadcome to that moment of definite decision, he proceeded to arrange forhis disappearance with all the craft and subtlety of which he was a pastmaster. He would go, once and for all, and since he was to go he wouldgo in such a fashion that nobody should be able to trace him.
After munching his sandwich and drinking his ale at the Highmarket Arms,Mallalieu had gone away to Hobwick Quarry and taken a careful lookround. Just as he had expected, he found a policeman or two and a fewgaping townsfolk there. He made no concealment of his own curiosity; hehad come up, he said, to see what there was to be seen at the placewhere his clerk had come to this sad end. He made one of the policementake him up to the broken railings at the brink of the quarry; togetherthey made a careful examination of the ground.
"No signs of any footprints hereabouts, the superintendent says,"remarked Mallalieu as they looked around. "You haven't seen aught ofthat sort!"
"No, your Worship--we looked for that when we first came up," answeredthe policeman. "You see this grass is that short and wiry that it's toofull of spring to show marks. No, there's naught, anywhere about--we'velooked a goodish way on both sides."
Mallalieu went close to the edge of the quarry and looked down. Hissharp, ferrety eyes were searching everywhere for his stick. A little tothe right of his position the side of the quarry shelved less abruptlythan at the place where Stoner had fallen; on the gradual slope there, agreat mass of bramble and gorse, broom and bracken, clustered: he gazedhard at it, thinking that the stick might have lodged in its meshes. Itwould be an easy thing to see that stick in daylight; it was a brightishyellow colour and would be easily distinguished against the prevalentgreens and browns around there. But he saw nothing of it, and his brain,working around the event of the night before, began to have confusednotions of the ringing of the stick on the lime-stone slabs at thebottom of the quarry.
"Aye!" he said musingly, with a final look round. "A nasty place to fallover, and a bad job--a bad job! Them rails," he continued, pointing tothe broken fencing, "why, they're rotten all through! If a man put hisweight on them, they'd be sure to give way. The poor young fellow mustha' sat down to rest himself a bit, on the top one, and of course, smashthey went."
"That's what I should ha' said, your Worship," agreed the policeman,"but some of 'em that were up here seemed to think he'd been forcedthrough 'em, or thrown against 'em, violent, as it might be. They thinkhe was struck down--from the marks of a blow that they found."
"Aye, just so," said Mallalieu, "but he could get many blows on him ashe fell down them rocks. Look for yourself!--there's not only roughedges of stone down there, but snags and roots of old trees that he'dstrike against in falling. Accident, my lad!--that's what it'sbeen--sheer and pure accident."
The policeman neither agreed with nor contradicted the Mayor, andpresently they went down to the bottom of the quarry again, whereMallalieu, under pretence of thoroughly seeing into everything, walkedabout all over the place. He did not find the stick, and he was quitesure that nobody else had found it. Finally he went away, convinced thatit lay in some nook or cranny of the shelving slope on to which he hadkicked it in his sudden passion of rage. There, in all probability, itwould remain for ever, for it would never occur to the police thatwhoever wielded whatever weapon it was that struck the blow would notcarry the weapon away with him. No--on the point of the stick Mallalieubegan to feel easy and confident.
He grew still easier and more confident about the whole thing during thecourse of the afternoon. He went about the town; he was in and out ofthe Town Hall; he kept calling in at the police-station; he becamecertain towards evening that no suspicion attached to himself--as yet.But--only as yet. He knew something would come out. The big questionwith him as he went home in the evening was--was he safe until theafternoon of the next day? While he ate and drank in his lonelydining-room, he decided that he was; by the time he had got through hisafter-dinner cigar he had further decided that when the next night camehe would be safely away from Highmarket.
But there were things to do that night. He spent an hour with a Bradshawand a map. While he reckoned up trains and glanced at distances andsituations his mind was busy with other schemes, for he had all his lifebeen a man who could think of more than one thing at once. And at theend of the hour he had decided on a plan of action.
Mallalieu had two chief objects in immediate view. He wanted to go awayopenly from Highmarket without exciting suspicion: that was one. Hewanted to make it known that he had gone to some definite place, on somedefinite mission; that was the other. And in reckoning up his chances hesaw how fortune was favouring him. At that very time the Highmarket TownCouncil was very much concerned and busied about a new water-supply.There was a project afoot for joining with another town, some miles off,in establishing a new system and making a new reservoir on the adjacenthills, and on the very next morning Mallalieu himself was to presideover a specially-summoned committee which was to debate certain mattersrelating to this scheme. He saw how he could make use of thatappointment. He would profess that he was not exactly pleased with someof the provisions of the proposed amalgamation, and would state hisintention, in open meeting, of going over in person to the other townthat very evening to see its authorities on the points whereon he wasnot satisfied. Nobody would see anything suspicious in his going away onCorporation business. An excellent plan for his purpose--for in order toreach the other town it would be necessary to pass through Norcaster,where he would have to change stations. And Norcaster was a very bigcity, and a thickly-populated one, and it had some obscure parts withwhich Mallalieu was well-acquainted--and in Norcaster he could enter onthe first important stage of his flight.
And so, being determined, Mallalieu made his final preparations. Theywere all connected with money. If he felt a pang at the thought ofleaving his Highmarket property behind him, it was assuaged by thereflection that, after all, that property only represented the price ofhis personal safety--perhaps (though he did not like to think of that)of his life. Besides, events might turn out so luckily that theenjoyment of it might be restored to him--it was possible. Whether thatpossibility ever came off or not, he literally dared not regard it justthen. To put himself in safety was the one, the vital consideration. Andhis Highmarket property and his share in the business only represented apart of Mallalieu's wealth. He could afford to do without all that heleft behind him; it was a lot to leave, he sighed regretfully, but hewould still be a very wealthy man if he never touched a pennyworth of itagain.
From the moment in which Mallalieu had discovered that Kitely knew thesecret of the Wilchester affair he had prepared for eventualities, andKitely's death had made no difference to his plans. If one man couldfind all that out, he argued, half a dozen other men might find it out.The murder of the ex-detective, indeed, had strengthened his resolve tobe prepared. He foresaw that suspicion might fall on Cotherstone; deeperreflection showed him that if Cotherstone became an object of suspicionhe himself would not escape. And so he had prepared himself. He had gottogether his valuable securities; they were all neatly bestowed in astout envelope which fitted into the inner pocket of a waistcoat whichhe once had specially made to his own design: a cleverly arrangedgarment, in which a man could carry a lot of wealth--in paper. There inthat pocket it all was--Government stock, railway stock, scrip, shares,all easily convertible, anywhere in the world where men bought and soldthe best of gilt-edged securities. And in another pocket Mallalieu had awad of bank-notes which he had secured during the previous week from aLondon bank at which he kept an account, and in yet another, a cunninglyarranged one, lined out with wash-leather, and secured by a strong flap,belted and buckled, he carried gold.
Mallalieu kept that waistcoat and its precious contents under his pillowthat night. And next morning he attired himself with particular care,and in the h
ip pocket of his trousers he placed a revolver which he hadrecently purchased, and for the first time for a fortnight he ate hisusual hearty breakfast. After which he got into his most serviceableovercoat and went away townwards ... and if anybody had been watchinghim they would have seen that Mallalieu never once turned his head totake a look at the house which he had built, and might be leaving forever.
Everything that Mallalieu did that morning was done with method. He wasin and about his office and his yard for an hour or two, attending tobusiness in his customary fashion. He saw Cotherstone, and did not speakto him except on absolutely necessary matters. No word was said byeither in relation to Stoner's death. But about ten o'clock Mallalieuwent across to the police-station and into the superintendent's office,and convinced himself that nothing further had come to light, and no newinformation had been given. The coroner's officer was with the police,and Mallalieu discussed with him and them some arrangements about theinquest. With every moment the certainty that he was safe increased--andat eleven o'clock he went into the Town Hall to his committee meeting.
Had Mallalieu chanced to look back at the door of the police-station ashe entered the ancient door of the Town Hall he would have seen threemen drive up there in a motor-car which had come from Norcaster--one ofthe men being Myler, and the other two Norcaster detectives. ButMallalieu did not look back. He went up to the committee-room and becameabsorbed in the business of the meeting. His fellow committee-men saidafterwards that they never remembered the Mayor being in such fettle forbusiness. He explained his objections to the scheme they wereconsidering; he pointed out this and urged that--finally, he said thathe was so little satisfied with the project that he would go and seethe Mayor of the sister town that very evening, and discuss the matterwith him to the last detail.
Mallalieu stepped out of the committee-room to find the superintendentawaiting him in the corridor. The superintendent was pale and trembling,and his eyes met Mallalieu's with a strange, deprecating expression.Before he could speak, two strangers emerged from a doorway and cameclose up. And a sudden sickening sense of danger came over Mallalieu,and his tongue failed him.
"Mr. Mayor!" faltered the superintendent. "I--I can't help it! These areofficers from Norcaster, sir--there's a warrant for your arrest.It's--it's the Stoner affair!"