Delbury was still in a bit of a mental fog, but he fastened on to that fact like a leech. There was some personal connection between the sender of those intimations and this murder.
Shaughnessy went out and got the system busy. In five minutes the organization had slid into motion. The whole of the internknit workings of the Yard were proceeding swiftly and smoothly about their job of blocking up the exits of the country and notifying the police forces of every town throughout the kingdom.
"The car ready?" asked Delbury, stricken his head out of the door.
"Waiting outside," said Shaughnessy, coming back.
"Right, out you go. I'm starting in five minutes. Must go along and see the chief. He knows all about it, I suppose?"
"Sure; I phoned him at his house. He came straight down.
Wants to see you about it before you go."
Delbury hurried round to the great office on the first floor.
&n
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Shaughnessy bent down and whispered to his senior."Looks like he came in through that window, chief," he said.Delbury, who was busily examine the contents of the wallet, shrugged and told his second to go over and have a look at it.But as Harper walked across he was cut short by an expression from Delbury in which amazement, incredulity and utter bewilderment were all blended. "Great heavens, Mick, look here!"Delbury had just open a concealed flap in the wallet and taken something out.Shaughnessy picked the card up."That's the thirty-sixth I've seen like that," he said quietly.."And it's the first one that wasn't addressed to the Yard,"Delbury flicked the card over. It was addressed to Willard Lyall, Esq., at his house at Highgate. The post-mark was a smudgy bodge of ink and indecipherable.Shaughnessy took it again and studied it critically. His special
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"Not a spot," said Harper disgustedly. "There's millions of finger marks here, but they're all blanks. It looks to me as though Valmon Dain always worked in rubber gloves." "Now that's dammed odd," said Delbury in a puzzled voice."Look! The dead man is wearing rubber gloves."They gaze at the rubber shod hands and racked their brains to elucidate the new point of conjecture."What do you make of it, Mick?" he asked helplessly."Never saw such a case for red herrings in all my life," declared the Irishman helpfully. "Everything's right and everything's wrong-----and nothing's right at all, bedad."Delbury wasn't listening to him. His eyes were fixed in a rigid stare at a point in the wall five feet above the chemical bench.."Look----What's that?" he queried in a strained voice. "Up there in the wall---look."Harper was about to jump up on the bench and investigate wh
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"What on earth do you mean?" asked Mercia irritably."Well, if you must have it in so many words, miss. did he come home last night?" "Mr. Notting hill, you are too perfectly ridiculous for words. Is it your usual procedure to ring up complete strangers at ludicrous hours of the morning and inquire if the owner of the house has been out all night?" Mercia's tone was sarcastic to the point of being politely chilly.. "Miss, if only you knew how urgent it was you wouldn't stand there being snappy like that." There was a whine almost of apprehension in the throaty voice. "will you please answer me?" he added earnestly. "Did he come home safe and sound last night?" "Mr. Lyall didn't go out last night," snapped Mercia sharply. "Didn't he? You can take my word for it, lady-----he did!"Mercia whitened. she felt her skin prickle all over with a sudden horrible feeling of dread. Th
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Hello! Are you there? I say you shall answer me or I swear I'll tell the police every word you've told me. I could recognize your voice again anywhere. And I will tell them every single thing--- I will, I swear it. What has happened? You are trying to hide something from me. Either that or you are afraid to tell me what you know. What is it? What is all this absurd mystery?" "Absurd lady?" The voice grunted horribly. "You'll find it ain't nothing absurd--- not when you get the news. you'll be putting the blinds up at Greydene inside an hour--- and you can lay your life on that. It ain't up to me to break nasty news to a lady--- and I ain't no hand at it in anyway. But if Mr. Lyall never got home from Hendon last night, it means that the other man got him." "What----what on earth do you mean?" Mercia felt her whole body drain white. It was as though the blood had fallen out of her, leaving her a cold bloodless thing, a mere form cast in marble. Hend
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Delbury and Shaughnessy climbed out of their car in the Notting Hill backwater. A hurried inspection of the local directory had soon located the jewellery shop that admitted to the proprietorship of one Tansy. They glanced up and down the road. There was no traffic, and only a solitary pedestrian or two hurrying to work broke the monotonous emptiness of the street. "Looks a likely sort of a hole for a jeweller's," said Shaughnessy grimly. "It's meself that's thinking Mr. Tansy has a turnover of tuppence an hour---no less!""Looks good to me," assented Delbury. "The Ghost says he's a smelter and you can stake your buttons on it he's right. Jump around the back. Criminal aren't early risers, as a class. He's still in bed yet. Round you go and hang on to him like a limpet if he tries to make a bolt." Delbury gave his man five minutes grace and then banged thunderously on the knocker. The echoes of it clanged through the house; and
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"why not?""well, I knew that he had gone out to Hendon, you see.""oh!" Delbury looked his surprise. "And how did you know that?" he asked. "A man rang up---- somebody I've never seen or heard of before rang up and asked me if dad had got home yet from Hendon. That was the first I knew that he had not gone to bed all night.""What?" Delbury jumped. "A man rang up?" he snapped."Who was it?""I don't know. I'd tell you if I did. A coarsely spoken man; he referred himself as the gent from Notting hill." "Good Lord! Tansy," breathed Delbury. "so that's where he got the wire from. miss Lyall, do you know that by answering that telephone you have let one of the worst criminals in London slip through our fingers?""I wasn't aware of it, but I couldn't help it even if I did. But in what way does all this concern my father? I think I have answered quite enough of your questions. And really I cannot tax my anx
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