What if the business were blackmail? It had a nasty enough look. Could Douglas have got hold of something discreditable in Sir William’s life, and could the latter be paying for his silence?
The more Tanner thought over it, the more likely this theory seemed. It would explain the facts generally, as well as the secrecy with which both parties had acted. And yet there were difficulties. This annuity business was a difficulty. From Douglas’s point of view it was easy enough to understand. If the blackmailer thought his receipts were precarious, or if time was reducing or about to reduce the value of the secret, it would be a natural step for him to try to convert his vanishing doles into a fixed and certain income. But Sir William’s motive would be different. His only hold on the preservation of his secret was the expectation on Douglas’s part of sums yet to be paid. If the manufacturer agreed to the annuity his hold would be gone. That he should do so was inconceivable to Tanner. And yet apparently he had. He had at least written the £3,000 cheque.
But the second difficulty to the blackmail theory was more serious. The wrong man had been murdered! If Douglas had been the victim it would have fitted in well enough. It would have been argued that Sir William had taken a desperate remedy to escape from an intolerable situation. But Sir William’s death would have been the last thing Douglas could have desired. He would never have cut off the source of his income. No; attractive as the blackmail theory had seemed at first, Tanner found its difficulties rather overwhelming.
He had by this time reached the Yard, and sitting down at his desk, he lit a cigar, and continued his ruminations.
Suppose again that blackmail had been levied, where did Austin and Cosgrove come in? They must in this case obviously have taken sides. Either they must have been assisting Sir William to extricate himself, or else they must have been party to the blackmail.
But as Tanner pondered these alternatives, he could not see how either would meet the facts. If the cousins were acting for their relative, they obviously would not have murdered him—it was a contradiction in terms. Here again the wrong man had been killed.
On the other hand, it was difficult to see how they could have been in league with Douglas against Sir William. Anything discreditable to the manufacturer would react on both the son and nephew, and their threat to make the matter public would therefore hardly be convincing. For their own sakes the cousins would be as anxious as Sir William to keep the thing quiet. It was also clear to Tanner that they would never have put themselves in the power of a man like Douglas. If they had wished to murder Sir William for his money, they would have done so at some time when Douglas would not have witnessed the crime.
So far had Tanner progressed when he realised his argument really was that Sir William could not have been murdered at all! He swore angrily, and went back to see the point from which he had started. Blackmail. It would seem, then, that blackmail could not be the explanation. And yet … It was an attractive theory …
Some days later, rather to Tanner’s surprise, he received from a sergeant of police in the north of England an answer to his circular about the photograph. It read:
“Sir: We have found the churchyard illustrated in your view attached. It belongs to the Parish Church of Tynwick, a village six miles southeast of Gateshead. The headstone is still standing. It bears the inscription—‘Sacred to the memory of John Dale, aged 53, who departed this life on , and of Eleanor, his beloved wife, who entered into rest on , at the age of 67.’ ”
“Gateshead? Dale?” thought the Inspector. “Those names sound familiar.”
He turned to his notes of the case. And then he got rather a thrill. Gateshead was the place from which Sir William had come to Luce Manor. It was there the deceased gentleman had been born and had spent his life, and where the ironworks he had owned was situated.
And Dale? This was more interesting still. Dale was the name of his wife’s first husband! He had married a Mrs. Ethel Dale. Here at last was a connection between the manufacturer and William Douglas.
But after all was it not a very slender one? What exactly did it amount to? That Douglas had in his possession a photograph of the grave of a man and woman of the same name as Lady Ponson’s first husband, and who lived somewhere in the same locality. Not much to go upon, and yet it was suggestive, and where there had been nothing before, Tanner welcomed it eagerly. Who knew what it mightn’t lead to? He determined he must go to Tynwick and make inquiries.
XIV
A Dramatic Discovery
The shades of evening were falling when Inspector Tanner reached Newcastle. He had not been favoured with his usual travelling weather. For the first time since he started work on the Ponson case, the skies had remained all day grey and leaden, and the rain had poured ceaselessly and hopelessly down. It had not been possible to open the carriage windows, and he was tired from so long breathing the stuffy atmosphere of the train.
It was too late to do anything that night, but the next morning, which fortunately was fine,
