“Where did he say he was taking her?” he asked Frank.
“He was told to drive into Eastbourne, where more detailed instructions would be given to him. The police have confirmed his story, and he has been released.
“I have just come from May,” said Frank. “She looks none the worse for her exciting adventure. I hope you have arranged to have her guarded?”
Saul Arthur Mann nodded.
“It will be the last adventure of that kind our friend will attempt,” he said.
“Still, this enlightens us a little. We know that Mr. Rex Holland has an accomplice, and that accomplice is Sergeant Smith, so we may presume that they were both in the murder. Constable Wiseman has been suitably rewarded, as he well deserves,” said Frank heartily.
“You bear no malice,” smiled Saul Arthur Mann.
Frank laughed, and shook his head.
“How can one?” he asked simply.
May had another visitor. Jasper Cole came hurriedly to London at the first intimation of the outrage, but was reassured by the girl’s appearance.
“It was awfully thrilling,” she said, “but really I am not greatly distressed; in fact, I think I look less tired than you.”
He nodded.
“That is very possible. I did not go to bed until very late this morning,” he said. “I was so engrossed in my research work that I did not realize it was morning until they brought me my tea.”
“You haven’t been in bed all night?” she said, shocked, and shook her head reprovingly. “That is one of your habits of life which will have to be changed,” she warned him.
Jasper Cole did not dismiss her unpleasant experience as lightly as she.
“I wonder what the object of it all was,” he said, “and why they took you back to Eastbourne? I think we shall find that the headquarters of this infernal combination is somewhere in Sussex.”
“Mr. Mann doesn’t think so,” she said, “but believes that the car was to be met by another at Eastbourne and I was to be transferred. He says that the idea of taking me there was to throw the police off the scent.”
She shivered.
“It wasn’t a nice experience,” she confessed.
The interview took place in the afternoon, and was some two hours after Frank had interviewed the girl; Saul Arthur Mann had gone to Eastbourne to bring her back. Jasper had arranged to spend the night in town, and had booked two stalls at the Hippodrome. She had told Saul Arthur Mann this, in accordance with her promise to keep him informed as to her movements, and she was, therefore, surprised when, half an hour later, the little investigator presented himself.
She met him in the presence of her fiancé, and it was clear to Jasper what Saul Arthur Mann’s intentions were.
“I don’t want to make myself a nuisance,” he said, “but before we go any further, Miss Nuttall, there are certain matters on which you ought to be informed. I have every reason to believe that I know who was responsible for the outrage of last night, and I do not intend risking a repetition.”
“Who do you think was responsible?” asked the girl quietly.
“I honestly believe that the author is in this room,” was the startling response.
“You mean me?” asked Jasper Cole angrily.
“I mean you, Mr. Cole. I believe that you are the man who planned the coup and that you are its sole author,” said the other.
The girl stared at him in astonishment.
“You surely do not mean what you say.”
“I mean that Mr. Cole has every reason for wishing to marry you,” he said. “What that reason is I do not know completely, but I shall discover. I am satisfied,” he went on slowly, “that Mr. Cole is already married.”
She looked from one to the other.
“Already married?” repeated Jasper.
“If he is not already married,” said Saul Arthur Mann bluntly, “then I have been indiscreet. The only thing I can tell you is that your fiancé has been traveling on the Continent with a lady who describes herself as Mrs. Cole.”
Jasper said nothing for a moment, but looked at the other oddly and thoughtfully.
“I understand, Mr. Mann,” he said at length, “that you collect facts as other people collect postage stamps?”
Saul Arthur Mann bristled.
“You may carry this off, sir,” he began, “if you can—”
“Let me speak,” said Jasper Cole, raising his voice. “I want to ask you this: Have you a complete record of John Minute’s life?”
“I know it so well,” said Saul Arthur Mann emphatically, “that I could repeat his history word for word.”
“Will you sit down, May?” said Jasper, taking the girl’s hand in his and gently forcing her to a chair. “We are going to put Mr. Mann’s memory to the test.”
“Do you seriously mean that you want me to repeat that history?” asked the other suspiciously.
“I mean just that,” said Jasper, and drew up a chair for his unpleasant visitor.
The record of John Minute’s life came trippingly from Mann’s tongue. He knew to an extraordinary extent the details of that strange and wild career.
“In 1892,” said the investigator, continuing his narrative, “he was married at St. Bride’s church, Port Elizabeth, to Agnes Gertrude Cole.”
“Cole,” murmured Jasper.
The little man looked at him with open mouth.
“Cole! Good Lord—you are—”
“I am his son,” said Jasper quietly. “I am one of his two children. Your information is that there was one. As a matter of fact, there were two. My mother left my father with one of the greatest scoundrels that has ever lived. He took her to Australia, where my sister was born six months after she had left John Minute. There her friend deserted her, and she worked for seven years as a kitchen maid,
