Though the search had yielded little, that little was important. No hint as to Style’s possible whereabouts had been gained nor any information as to the remaining members of the gang. Still less was there any hint as to what might have happened to Molly Moran, though French’s sketch of the tracks of Style’s car and its detailed description, obtained from the old workman, might later on help in tracing her. But two things had been made clear beyond possibility of doubt. First, the silversmiths’ business was practically nonexistent. It was evidently a mere blind to cover more serious and lucrative operations. Secondly, though scarcely any silver articles had been sold, the purchase of bar silver had been very large.
Report from the Mint or no report, there could no longer be any doubt as to what was being done. Coining on an enormous scale was in progress. The next thing for French must be to find the plant. Or rather the next thing but one. At all costs Molly Moran’s life must be saved, were this humanly possible.
While French was sitting in the office turning these matters over in his mind, the Yard expert had not been idle. He now called to them that he had just succeeded in opening the safe. French began eagerly to go through its contents. But he found only one thing of interest, four little leathern bags shaped to fit the divisions in the vanity bags, each containing from a hundred to a hundred and fifty half crowns.
Sure that at last he held the key to the affair, he poured the coins out on to the desk and examined them minutely. Immediately he was once again disappointed. All of them, he was prepared to swear, were genuine. Every test he applied proved them so. And then suddenly he wondered. All of them were dated !
Whether this meant anything or not he did not know, but it was at least certain that they must at once be sent to the Mint for an authoritative opinion.
More anxious than ever as to Molly’s fate, French returned to the Yard, hoping against hope that some useful information might have come in.
XV
Mr. Cullimore Expounds
French was profoundly worried by the disappearance of Molly Moran. He could not get out of his mind the thought that if anything happened to her he was by no means free from responsibility. There could be no doubt that it was through him that she had incurred the suspicion of the gang, and he had led her to believe that she could confide in him with perfect safety. Bitterly he regretted his oversight in not having her shadowed so that her kidnapping would have been impossible. Again and again he cursed his mistake and again and again he swore to leave no stone unturned to save her, and if unhappily he failed in that, to bring her murderers to justice.
There was little that he could do personally but remain in his room and collate and sift the information which soon began to come in. A good deal was obtained as a result of the inquiries which he had set on foot, but unfortunately it was all negative.
The first news he had was from the men whom he had sent to the banks at which Style got rid of his half crowns. At none of them had the man been seen. This was Thursday and since Tuesday he had neither paid in half crowns nor drawn cheques. The total sum standing to his credit in all six was close on five hundred pounds. It was evident therefore that he was badly frightened, if, as seemed likely, he had abandoned the money.
Telephone reports from the other men engaged were equally disappointing. Sergeant Harvey rang up to say that he had been unable to learn anything at the Panopticon. Miss Moran had left at her usual time on the Tuesday evening and an assistant with whom she had walked to the tube said that her remarks showed that she intended to be at work on the following day. Nor was any news available from her boarding house. On the Wednesday evening she had not turned up after the performance. That was the desolating fact. She had not sent any message to explain her absence nor had she previously given a hint to anyone there that she might not be home.
Even more disquieting was the report from Carter. He had been unable to arrest Curtice Welland because Welland also had disappeared. The man had not returned home on Wednesday evening nor had he been seen since. His housekeeper, however, was not alarmed about him as he had sent her a telegram on Wednesday afternoon to say that he was unexpectedly called away on business and would be absent for a few days. His usual haunts had been shadowed and exhaustive inquiries made, but all to no purpose.
The three other box office girls who had been changing coins were interrogated, also without result. At first all three had denied that they had ever met Welland or were engaged in questionable practices with half crowns, but the police examination had soon broken them down and they had admitted their complicity. But all stated that Wednesday was the last day on which they had seen Welland. None of them had seen Style for many weeks.
One vitally important piece of information, however, came in, a piece indeed fundamental to the whole inquiry. At any other time it would have raised French to the pitch of exalted enthusiasm usual to him under such circumstances. But now he was so worried about Molly Moran’s safety that he took the news as a matter of course.
Returning to
