Though they were careful to act discreetly when under observation, they were not careful enough, and Berlyn became aware of what was going on. He at once remonstrated with his wife, finally telling her in no ambiguous terms that if given cause he would not hesitate to divorce her. If this had been all, Phyllis would no doubt have eagerly seized so complete a solution of her difficulty, but both she and Pyke saw that it was by no means all. Berlyn, as joint owner of the business, would certainly have dismissed Pyke as well as cut Phyllis out of his will. The couple would, therefore, have been without money or prospects. This she was not prepared for, and while admitting unwise behaviour, she denied that there was anything serious in her relations with Pyke and undertook that Berlyn should have no further cause of complaint. Then she began to meet Pyke secretly, and gradually the terrible solution which they afterwards adopted grew subconsciously in both their minds. If Berlyn should die, the whole situation would be straightened out.
From that time, the idea of murder was never far from the thoughts of either. But they could see no way in which the dreadful deed could be safely accomplished. Pyke, however, was sufficiently callous and farseeing to suggest the flirtation with Domlio, partly as a proof that the lady’s feeling for himself was a thing of the past, and partly lest a scapegoat should afterwards be wanted in connection with the murder.
Then came Jefferson’s visit and the cousins’ holiday and Jefferson’s unexpected death. Pyke was about to give up the tour and come home when it suddenly struck him that here was the solution for which he and Phyllis had been looking. He travelled up to Paris and there spent a few days in working out his plan.
The idea of diverting suspicion from the murder of Berlyn by staging the accident on the moor had already occurred to him. But this plan had the objection that it involved his own disappearance as well as Berlyn’s. If, however, he disappeared, the whole fruits of the murder would be lost, as he was committing it simply to enable him to marry Phyllis. Jefferson’s death showed him how he might escape this dilemma.
He would, in brief, murder Berlyn, stage the accident on the moor, and disappear—as Stanley Pyke. He would immediately reappear—as Jefferson. By impersonating Jefferson he could marry Phyllis and get all his cousin’s money as well.
In this scheme there was a risk, of course, but the chances of anyone learning of Jefferson’s death were, he thought, sufficiently remote to make the scheme practicable. As soon as he could, without suspicion, he would go abroad, where Phyllis could presently follow him.
At first the plan seemed full of snags, but as he thought over it, he saw ways of overcoming one difficulty after another, until the whole ghastly affair grew coherent and feasible. When he returned to Ashburton the scheme was cut and dry and he had only to get Phyllis’s approval and promise of help.
Jefferson, the real Jefferson, had already visited Ashburton, but he had only been seen closely by the landlady, Mrs. Billing, the Berlyns and their servants, Domlio, and one or two others. Of these the only one Stanley need interview was Mrs. Billing, and he felt sure he could deceive her. Sergeant Daw, with whom in his enquiries about the tragedy he would have most to do, had only seen Jefferson in the distance. Personation would, therefore, be possible.
The first thing necessary was to prove Jefferson still alive. Stanley found it easier than he had expected. From a theatrical supplies shop he bought shoes with false internal heels to increase his height, padded underclothes to give him the necessary girth, rubber discs to wear inside his cheeks to alter the shape of his face, and glasses. When in addition to these he wore Jefferson’s clothes and copied as best he could Jefferson’s walk, speech, and deportment, it was not surprising that the unsuspecting and unobservant persons at Ashburton should be taken in.
On his way home he carried out the tricks at the hotels, then taking the room in Kepple Street. For some hectic weeks he managed to live at Kepple Street as Jefferson and at Ashburton as Stanley. His continual absences from Ashburton, travelling for his firm, enabled him to put in the necessary appearances in Kepple Street, where he gave out that in the intervals he was making business trips in England and France.
He saw that by a judicious interview with the clerk of the Tavistock Urban District Council he could arrange for the evening journey across the moor. His first idea had been to dispose of Berlyn’s body on the way back by throwing it into one of the small mires close to the road. But when he considered this in detail he realised that the difficulties were overwhelming, just as had been suggested to French by Sergeant Daw. He therefore devised the episode of the duplicator in order to provide a means for the removal of the remains. He knew the Burry Inlet, and the date of a suitable tide became the foundation on which the rest of the plan was built.
In London he bought the secondhand typewriter and wrote the letters ordering the duplicator and crane lorry on paper he had obtained from the L.M.S. hotels. These letters he handed to the tobacconist, Ganope, who for a consideration undertook to post them on the proper dates. Neither he nor Phyllis was, therefore, in London when they were sent out, though he called in person at the hotels for the replies. He similarly obtained the duplicate magneto. This he handed
