He passed a flask to the inspector and busied himself with lint and bandages. Labar, who had been nearer to exhaustion than he had permitted himself to think, felt a wave of new life in him. He began to reconsider his plans.
“Doctor,” he asked, “would it disarrange your affairs much, if I asked your help for three or four hours?”
“Well,” said the doctor, “I can’t say that any of my patients would be likely to die in that time.”
“How fast is your car?”
“I suppose she could do seventy at a push.”
“That’s good. She can keep up with anything on the road?”
The doctor nodded. “Sure thing.”
“Then I’m going to ask you to take me along to a place called ‘Maid’s Retreat’—or rather to the road outside the lodge gates. There will be a Rolls Royce somewhere in the vicinity, and I want to follow that wherever it goes—if possible without giving the people in it an indication that we are trailing them. What is your name?”
“Ware. I’m one of the local medicos.”
“You won’t need me to tell you, Dr. Ware, after what you’ve seen of me that there may be trouble. Can you use a gun—an automatic pistol?”
“It’s some years since I handled one, but I don’t think that I’ve forgotten all that I once knew.”
“Take this then. I can’t shoot for toffee. Don’t use it unless I give you the office. Now let’s go.”
Labar’s original plan had been to get in touch with the nearest considerable town where there was any reasonable reserve of police, and have assistance sent out, while he would have also asked for steps to be taken to notify all the police forces within a big area to keep a lookout for Larry or any of his gang. That would have taken time, and it was big odds that the net would have been drawn vainly. But with a competent man, such as Dr. Ware seemed to be, at his elbow it might be possible to regain and keep touch with the gang, until an opportune moment for dealing with them arrived. They would assume, as Billy Bungey had said, that Labar would be long in getting assistance, and hampered as they were with one wounded man, if not two—for the inspector was not sure how much he had injured Larry—they would not be able to hurry unduly. He suspected that they had not brought their car into the park. That would mean a long walk down to the lodge gates. He did not see how they could have got away yet.
Something of what had happened he told the doctor. That gentleman was smiling happily as he listened. Labar diagnosed him as a fighter by temperament, who would enjoy a rough and tumble struggle far more than he enjoyed administering pills.
They passed a side turning, and the doctor nudged Labar with his elbow. “There’s your Rolls,” he said. “Your men are evidently still here. The lodge gates are quarter of a mile up. What do I do?”
“Drive right by them till we are out of sight,” said Labar. He had turned up his coat collar and was leaning well back in the car. “Then I’ll get out and take a look round. They won’t be expecting me back.”
Ware obeyed his instructions. At a bend in the road some distance beyond the lodge he pulled up. Labar got down and scribbling hastily in his notebook tore out a page. “If anyone comes along give ’em that,” he said. “Ask ’em to telephone it as quickly as possible. It’s a message to the local police.”
He moved warily along a dry ditch, till through the tall hedge he could view the drive leading to “Maid’s Retreat.” The doctor turned the car round, lit a cigarette and lifted the bonnet. That had been Labar’s suggestion. A motorist fiddling with the insides of his car was not likely to arouse suspicion if perchance one of the gang caught sight of him.
A full five minutes had gone when the inspector saw a single figure hastening along the drive. As it came nearer he recognised the second of the men who had pursued him. He considered whether he should call the doctor and arrest the man as he came out of the lodge gates. After a moment’s thought he dismissed the idea. The man must be a messenger sent to bring the car up to the house. To take him would be but to give Larry the alarm. The detective resolved to wait.
At the entrance the man took a comprehensive glance up and down the road, and then went his way. In a little the big saloon turned into the gates and disappeared up the avenue towards the house.
Labar sighed for half a dozen of the stalwarts of his staff. With them he would have had the whole lot in a trap. But it was hopeless to think that he and the doctor could do much more than wait and see, and it would be folly to take the risk. If he could find the haunt where these men were lurking the rest would be easy. The thing now was to pin them down. Burglary or no burglary, Larry Hughes had been associated in an attempt to murder him. That was enough to arrest him on. If he could once get Larry between the four walls of a cell, he promised himself that he would now get at the evidence that would convict. Better to wait. Besides, there was Penelope. He was sure now that she was being held somewhere under coercion by Larry.
He had a glimpse of the Rolls Royce coming back, and signalled to Ware. The doctor closed the bonnet and took his seat at the
