The case was exhaustively reported, and after half an hour’s reading French knew all that the reporters had gleaned. Briefly, the circumstances were as follow:
Charles Berlyn, as has been said, was junior partner of the firm. He was a man of about forty and he looked after the commercial side of the undertaking. Stanley Pyke was an engineer who acted as technical travelling representative, a younger man, not more than five and thirty. Each had a high reputation for character and business efficiency.
It happened that for some time previous to the date in question the Urban District Council of Tavistock had been in communication with the Veda Works relative to the purchase of filing cabinets and other office appliances for their clerk. There had been a hitch in the negotiations and Mr. Berlyn had arranged to attend the next meeting of the council in the hope of settling the matter. As some of the council members were farmers, busy during that season in the daytime, the meeting was held in the evening. Mr. Berlyn arranged to motor over, Mr. Pyke accompanying him.
The two men left the works at , their usual hour. Each dined early and they set out in Mr. Berlyn’s car about . They expected to reach Tavistock at , at which hour the meeting was to begin. After their business was finished they intended to call on a mill owner just outside Tavistock in connection with a set of loose-leaf forms he had ordered. The mill owner was a personal friend of Mr. Berlyn’s and they intended to spend the evening with him, leaving about and reaching home about .
This program they carried out faithfully, at least in its earlier stages. They reached Tavistock just as the meeting of the Urban Council was beginning, and settled the business of the office appliances. Then they went on to the mill owner’s, arranged about the loose-leaf forms, and sat chatting over cigars and drinks until shortly before eleven. At precisely they set off on their return journey, everything connected with them being perfectly normal and in order.
They were never seen again.
Mrs. Berlyn went to bed at her ordinary time, but, waking up shortly before and finding that Mr. Berlyn had not returned, she immediately grew anxious. It was so unlike him to fail to carry out his plans that his absence suggested disaster. She hastily put on some clothes and went out to the garage, and on finding that the car was not there she woke the servant and said she was going to the police. Without waiting for the girl to dress, she went out and knocked up Sergeant Daw at his little cottage.
Though the sergeant did his best to reassure her, he was by no means easy in his own mind. The road from Tavistock to Ashburton is far from safe, especially for night motoring. It is terribly hilly and winding and at night extraordinarily deserted. An accident might easily happen and in such lonely country, hours might pass before its discovery.
The sergeant at once called a colleague and the two men started off on motor bicycles to investigate. About eight miles out on the moor they came to Mr. Berlyn’s car standing close up to the side of the road, as if drawn out of the way of passing traffic. It was heavily coated with dew and looked as if it had been there for hours. The engine and radiator were cold and there was no sign of either of its occupants.
At the side of the road was a patch of gravelly soil mixed with peat, and across it, leading from the road out over the moor, were two lines of footsteps. The prints were not sufficiently sharp to give detailed impressions, but the sergeant had no doubt as to whom they belonged. He tried to follow them over the moor, but the grass was too rough to allow of this.
But he soon realised what had happened. Three-quarters of a mile across the moor, in the direction in which the footsteps pointed, lived the senior partner of the Veda Company, Colonel Domlio. His was the only house in the neighbourhood, and it was, therefore, natural that if from a breakdown of the car or other reason the travellers had got into difficulties, they should go to him for help. But the house was not approached from the road on which they were travelling. The drive started from that which diverged at Two Bridges and led northwards to Moretonhampstead. To have gone round by the road would, therefore, have meant a walk of nearly five miles, whereas fifteen minutes would have taken them across the moor. It was evident that they had adopted the latter course.
And therein lay their fate. Some quarter of a mile from the road were a number of those treacherous, vivid green areas of quagmire, to stumble into which is to run the risk of a horrible death. They were not quite in the direct line to the house, but in one of the mists which come up so frequently and unexpectedly it would not have been difficult for the men to lose their way. The sergeant at once knocked up Colonel Domlio, only to learn that he had not seen or heard of either.
When the car was examined, the cause of the stoppage was discovered. A short circuit had developed in the magneto, which interfered with the sparking to such an extent that the cylinder charges could not be ignited.
French was a good deal disappointed by the account. He had hoped that he was onto the
