“And fortunately, we have some corroboration,” observed Brereton, with a glance at Avice, “for whether Mr. Wraythwaite knows it or not, his meeting with Harborough on the moors that particular night was witnessed.”
“Capital—capital!” exclaimed Carfax. “By a credible—and creditable—witness?”
“An old woman of exceptional character,” answered Brereton, “except that she indulges herself in a little night-poaching now and then.”
“Ah, well, we needn’t tell that when she goes into the witness-box,” said Carfax. “But that’s most satisfactory. My dear young lady!” he added, turning to Avice, “your father will be released like—like one o’clock! And then, I think,” he went on bustling round on the new Squire of Wraye, “then, my dear, I think Mr. Wraythwaite here—”
“Leave that to me, Carfax,” interrupted Mr. Wraythwaite, with a nod at Avice. “I’ll tell this young lady all about that myself. In the meantime—”
“Ah, just so!” responded Carfax. “In the meantime, we have something not so interesting or pleasing, but extremely important, to tell Mr. Brereton. Brereton—how are things going? Has any fresh light been thrown on the Kitely murder? Nothing really certain and definite you say? Very well, my dear sir—then you will allow me to throw some light on it!”
So saying, Carfax rose from his chair, quitted the room—and within another minute returned, solemnly escorting the two detectives.
XXVIII
Pages from the Past
Before the solicitor and his companions could seat themselves at the table whereat the former’s preliminary explanation had been made, Mr. Wraythwaite got up and motioned Avice to follow his example.
“Carfax,” he said, “there’s no need for me to listen to all that you’ve got to tell Mr. Brereton—I know it already. And I don’t think it will particularly interest Miss Harborough at the moment—she’ll hear plenty about it later on. She and I will leave you—make your explanations and your arrangements, and we’ll join you later on.”
He led the way to the door, beckoning Avice to accompany him. But Avice paused and turned to Brereton.
“You feel sure that it is all right now about my father?” she said. “You feel certain? If you do—”
“Yes—absolutely,” answered Brereton, who knew what her question meant. “And—we will let him know.”
“He knows!” exclaimed Carfax. “That is, he knows that Mr. Wraythwaite is here, and that everything’s all right. Run away, my dear young lady, and be quite happy—Mr. Wraythwaite will tell you everything you want to know. And now, my dear sir,” he continued, as he shut the door on Wraythwaite and Avice and bustled back to the table, “there are things that you want to know, and that you are going to know—from me and from these two gentlemen. Mr. Stobb—Mr. Leykin. Both ex-Scotland Yard men, and now in business for themselves as private inquiry agents. Smart fellows—though I say it to their faces.”
“I gather from that that you have been doing some private inquiry work, then?” said Brereton. “In connection with what, now?”
“Let us proceed in order,” answered Carfax, taking a seat at the head of the table and putting his fingers together in a judicial attitude. “I will open the case. When Wraythwaite—a fine fellow, who, between ourselves, is going to do great things for Harborough and his daughter—when Wraythwaite, I say, heard of what had happened down here, he was naturally much upset. His first instinct was to rush to Highmarket at once and tell everything. However, instead of doing that, he very wisely came to me. Having heard all that he had to tell, I advised him, as it was absolutely certain that no harm could come to Harborough in the end, to let matters rest for the time being, until we had put the finishing touches to his own affair. He, however, insisted on sending you that money—which was done: nothing else would satisfy him. But now arose a deeply interesting phase of the whole affair—which has been up to now kept secret between Wraythwaite, myself, and Messrs. Stobb and Leykin there. To it I now invite your attention.”
Mr. Carfax here pulled out a memorandum book from his pocket, and having fitted on his spectacles glanced at a page or two within it.
“Now,” he presently continued, “Wraythwaite being naturally deeply interested in the Kitely case, he procured the local newspapers—Norcaster and Highmarket papers, you know—so that he could read all about it. There was in those papers a full report of the first proceedings before the magistrates, and Wraythwaite was much struck by your examination of the woman Miss Pett. In fact, he was so much struck by your questions and her replies that he brought the papers to me, and we read them together. And, although we knew well enough that we should eventually have no difficulty whatever in proving an alibi in Harborough’s behalf, we decided that in his interest we would make a few guarded but strict inquiries into Miss Pett’s antecedents.”
Brereton started. Miss Pett! Ah!—he had had ideas respecting Miss Pett at the beginning of things, but other matters had cropped up, and affairs had moved and developed so rapidly that he had almost forgotten her.
“That makes you think,” continued Carfax, with a smile. “Just so!—and what took place at that magistrates’ sitting made Wraythwaite and myself think. And, as I say, we employed Stobb and Leykin, men of great experience, to—just find out a little about Miss Pett. Of course, Miss Pett herself had given us something to go on.
