“Your third question follows from the answer you give to the second. If you find that murder has been committed you must state, if you can, the guilty party or parties. As to this it appears to me that no evidence of any kind has been placed before you. But here again you must form your own opinion.”
Contrary to French’s opinion, the jury elected to retire. For half an hour they considered the matter, then at last brought in the verdict which had seemed to him self-evident—wilful murder by some person or persons unknown.
IV
French Makes a Start
“I should like to introduce you to Major Bentley, our chief constable,” said Sergeant Golightly to French as they left the courthouse.
The major was a small dark man with a rather Jewish cast of countenance. French had noticed him come in late to the inquest and had imagined he was a police official.
“I was talking over this affair with the superintendent this morning,” the major began. “He’s knocked up at present and I went to his house. That’s why you haven’t met him. In the absence of complete knowledge we rather took the view that the key to the matter lay in London and that Portsmouth came into it only as the result of an accidental selection. I should like to know, Inspector, if that’s your view also?”
“As a matter of fact, it is, sir. I have some further information which I didn’t think it necessary to lay before the coroner, but which I should be pleased to give to you. It tends in that direction.”
The chief constable smiled.
“I rather imagined your evidence was—shall I say?—bowdlerized. It occurred to me that you were mighty quick in assuming that the girl had disappeared. All the details strictly accurate?”
“Strictly, sir.” French smiled also. “But if a meaning other than that I intended were taken from what I said, that would not be my fault, would it?”
“Of course not. Naturally the energies of the police must be directed towards hoodwinking the courts, eh?”
French laughed outright.
“It has its uses,” he admitted, glancing with amusement at the sergeant’s scandalized countenance. “But this time I fear our adversaries are too wide awake to be taken in by it.”
“That so? Well, come along, will you, to the sergeant’s office and let’s have our chat.”
When they were seated and had lit up three of the chief constable’s Egyptian cigarettes French told in detail about his interview with the dead girl and the inquiries he had already made. Both men listened with keen attention and without interrupting.
“What’s it all about, Inspector?” Major Bentley asked when he had finished. “Those three ruffians get these girls into their power, or try to. But what for? Have you any theory?”
“I’ve not,” French admitted. “At first it looked like an attempt to rob the tills of the cinemas, but all they’d get from that wouldn’t be worth their while. It might, of course, be for immoral purposes, but somehow I don’t think so. In any case the motive for this second murder is clear. This Style believed that the girl Darke connected him with the first crime, the murder of Eileen Tucker.”
“Possibly they found out that she had gone to the Yard and thought she had given them away?”
“That’s my view. Probably they shadowed her. If so, they would see that her ability to identify three of their members would make her so dangerous that their only policy would be to make away with her.”
“Quite. That’s clear enough. But it doesn’t explain the first murder.”
“It does not, sir. It looks as if there was some game going on to get the cash out of those cinemas, but how it would be done I can’t see.”
“Nor I.” The chief constable shrugged his shoulders. “Well, that’s all very interesting, but the point about which I really wanted to consult you is this: If the key to the matter lies in London, as I think we are agreed that it must, the matter is one for you and not for us.”
“The body was found here, sir. It is technically a matter for you.”
“I know, but that is a detail which can easily be put right. If we apply for help from the Yard you can sail ahead without delay?”
“That’s true, sir, or at least the Yard can. I should have to report and wait for orders. But as I’m mixed up with the case already and as I have no other job on hand I am sure I should be the man sent. Shall I get on the phone to the Yard?”
“I think you should. Tell them we’re applying to the Home Office for help from them, and that I’ve suggested that as you’re here you might carry on.”
“Right, sir. I’ll do it now.”
But when French got through to Chief Inspector Mitchell he was surprised by receiving a recall.
“Come and see me first, French, at all events,” said his chief. “We’ll fix it up then.”
French travelled to Waterloo by the from Portsmouth, and early next morning knocked at the Chief Inspector’s door.
“Morning, French,” Mitchell greeted him. “I was a good deal interested by the summary of those proceedings down at Portsmouth. I fancy there’s more in this thing than we’ve got down to yet. Just start in and give me details of what took place at the inquest.”
French obeyed. Mitchell listened without interrupting and nodded his head when his subordinate had finished.
“I sat here,” he said slowly, “last night for a solid hour after I had received your telephone, trying to remember a name. At last I got it. Does Arundel convey anything to you?”
“Arundel?” French repeated. “Near Eastbourne that is, isn’t it?”
“Eastbourne your grandmother. It’s ten miles east of Chichester and some four miles from the coast. That help you?”
French slowly shook his head.
