Labar caught him by the arm. “Let’s walk a little way, Bill. I want you to go to the local police station with me. You can do some talking while I get on to the phone to the Yard.”
Briefly he narrated the happenings of the day and night. “What I propose to do is this,” he added. “We must stop every bolt hole in sight. All the ports must be notified, and particularly those seaside towns on the southeast coast. I expect Larry has seen to passports, but, even if he hasn’t, it is simple to leave on some of these day excursions to France without them. We must borrow as many men from the local forces as we can, and throw a dragnet over the marsh. I am going to ask the Yard to send down a dozen or so Flying Squad men by car. They ought to get here in a couple of hours with luck. There’s just an off-chance that we may find our birds still in their nest. Larry was away yesterday, and the fog no doubt prevented him from getting back. He’ll have a lot to do, when he does arrive.”
Malone quickened his step. “You know something else, guv’nor,” he commented. “You’re keeping something up your sleeve.”
The inspector nodded and glanced over his shoulder. “You’ve hit it,” he agreed. “It’s only a guess, mind you, but some facts told me by Miss Noelson rather bear it out. The sea is, she told me, about a mile away from the house. Larry as you know has his own yacht. I’m not much of a sailor, but if it was possible to bring that yacht reasonably near inshore, it would explain how a lot of the stuff that has passed through Larry’s hands got out of the country without our people getting a smell of it.”
“You mean that the house is a depot for stolen goods.”
“Exactly.”
“Then why shouldn’t Larry use the yacht to get away?”
“Because he probably guessed that steps were being taken to keep an eye on the boat. We knew of the yacht. We didn’t know of this hide out. It might have been risky from his point of view to bring the boat over while we were on the alert. It might give away his cache without helping him. But with the events of the past few days, while things have been getting warm for him, he has probably been taking steps to have it at hand for his getaway. That’s all guesswork. If we weren’t rushed this morning I could probably confirm it. I’ll bet you that he has been sending wires abroad. Anyway, on the off-chance I am going to ask the Yard to get in touch with the Admiralty, and have a destroyer off the coast until we clear up. And if there’s a fast motor boat somewhere handy, we might find a use for it.”
Malone nodded appreciatively. “I get you, guv’nor.”
There were a few complications in getting the search organised, for no less than three police forces were concerned—the Metropolitan Police, the Kent Constabulary, and the Sussex Police. In spite of the risk of a fiasco that might make him a laughing stock, Labar urged that as many as possible of the local men who took part in the search should be armed with shotguns. He was confident that the gunmen who formed part of Larry’s retinue would not be taken without a fight. In the hands of men who were unused to firearms shotguns would probably be more effective than any deadlier weapons, although the Scotland Yard authorities assured him that the Flying Squad men would be armed with automatic pistols.
Once he had put things in train he hired a car, and with Malone and a couple of local officers he started for the marsh, having arranged a rendezvous for the larger part of his forces at the inn where he had breakfasted the preceding day. Guides had been promised from various sources and it was anticipated that from the description that had been furnished by Penelope it would not be a matter of great difficulty to locate the house where she had been held. A body of police were to start from Lydd to patrol the shore as far as Dungeness. On every road over which a car might pass from the district, armed patrols of Kent police were to be established.
Labar’s scheme was to make a wide sweep over the marsh and if Larry was still in the trap he had little doubt of success. But it was some little time before the police, who had to be collected from a wide area of country, could be brought together to put his full plan into operation.
From somewhere the local inspector who accompanied him, routed out a constable who was said to know the district, and a farmer and a shepherd picked up on the way volunteered their services. Both these latter agreed that the house for which search was being made could be none other that Mope’s Bottom, which stood far away on the marsh, and which had been rented many years ago by a gentleman from London. It had borne many years before a local reputation as a haunted house, and was still avoided after dusk by many of those whose avocations might take them to the vicinity.
As yet, including Labar and Malone, there were not more than a dozen men gathered for the expedition. Labar looked at his watch. It would be an hour at least, and probably longer, before the complete forces would be gathered.
“Reckon I’ll take this shepherd and go and have a look, see,” he said to Malone. “You can explain my ideas if we’re not back, Bill, and then carry on. I’m sure to meet you.” He turned to the looker whom he had decided to take as guide. “How long do you think it will take us
