The drive was short, not more than forty yards long, and the complete outline of the house was speedily revealed. It seemed even smaller than the first glance had shown, but was charmingly designed, with a broken-up roof, large bow windows, and a tiny loggia into which opened a glass panelled door. To be so near the centre of a great city, it was extraordinarily secluded, the trees and wall, together with some clumps of evergreen shrubs, cutting off all view of the road and the neighbouring houses.
The front of the house was in complete darkness, and instinctively treading stealthily, the two men moved round to the side. Here also there was no light, and they pushed slowly on until they had completed the circuit and once more reached the front door.
“Looks as if the place is empty,” French whispered as he pressed the electric bell.
There was no response to his repeated rings. The house remained dark and silent. French turned again to the constable.
“Call up those other two men,” he ordered, and soon Pye was posted at the corner between the front and side, and Frankland at that diagonally opposite, with orders to keep out of sight and to allow anyone who came to enter, but no one to leave the building.
Electric torch in hand, French then began a guarded survey of the doors and windows. Finally fixing on the door opening on the loggia, he made Caldwell hold the light while, first with a bunch of skeleton keys, and then with a bit of wire, he operated on the lock. For several minutes he worked, but at last with a snap the bolt shot back, and turning the handle, the two men cautiously entered the room and closed the door behind them.
They found themselves in a small, expensively-furnished sitting-room, evidently a lady’s. It was fitted up in a somewhat flamboyant and pretentious manner, as if costliness rather than good taste had been the chief consideration in its furnishing. It was unoccupied, but looked as if it had been recently used, there being ashes in the grate and books lying about, one of which lay open face downwards on a chair. On an occasional table stood an afternoon tea equipage with one used cup.
French did not remain to make any closer examination, but passed on to a tiny hall, off which opened three other rooms, and from which the staircase led to the first floor. Beneath the stairs was a row of clothes-hooks on which were hanging a man’s garments, a couple of hats and coats, and a waterproof.
Rapidly he glanced into the other rooms. The first was a smoking-room, a man’s room, furnished with dark-coloured, leather upholstery, and walls panelled in dark oak. Next door was a dining-room, also small, but containing a quantity of valuable silver. The fourth door led to the kitchen, scullery, pantry, and yard. Here also there were evidences of recent occupation in the general untidiness, as well as in the food which these places contained.
Satisfied that no one was concealed on the ground floor, French led the way upstairs. In the largest bedroom, evidently that of the mistress of the house, there was a scene almost of confusion. Drawers and wardrobe lay open, their contents tumbled and tossed, while the floor was littered with dresses, shoes, and other dainty articles of feminine apparel. French swore beneath his breath when he saw the mess. Things were beginning to look uncommonly like as if the bird had flown. However, it was possible that someone might arrive at any minute, and he hurriedly continued his search.
Next door was a man’s dressing-room and bedroom. Here there was not the same litter, nor was the unoccupied bedroom adjoining other than tidy, but in the maids’ room, which he next entered, it was evident there had been a recent clearing out. Here the wardrobe drawers were pulled out and the door of a hanging press in the wall was standing open. Papers and a few obviously worn-out garments littered the floor. But the room differed from Madame’s in that everything of value had been taken.
French swore again. There seemed no doubt that he was late. Mrs. X, alias Mrs. Vane, had taken fright and fled. If so, what hint, he wondered, had she received of her danger?
He stood for a moment in the disordered room, thinking. Under these new circumstances, what was his proper course?
First, it was obvious that he must make absolutely sure that this Mrs. Vane was really the woman he sought. Next, he must learn if she had really gone, and, if so, why, and, if possible, where. If her departure was a flight, he must find out how or by whom she had been warned. Lastly, he must follow her to her hiding-place and arrest her.
But he must not end with Mrs. Vane. Her husband must also be found. If she was Mrs. X, the receiver of the stolen diamonds, possibly the murderer of old Gething, Mr. Vane must be in it, too. It was inconceivable that he could have avoided becoming involved.
His first job must therefore be to make all the inquiries he could as to the mysterious occupants of Crewe Lodge. There were several obvious lines of research. First there was the house itself. People left the impress of their personalities on the houses they inhabited, and a careful search of this one must yield considerable information as to the pair. Next there were the servants. If they could be found, their testimony might prove invaluable. From the neighbours and local tradesmen and dealers he did not expect so much, but among them all some useful hints would surely be gleaned. Lastly, there were the house agents. They might or might not be able to help.
It was by this time nearly eleven, but he decided that his obvious duty was then and there to begin the search of the house, even if it meant an all-night job. He therefore
