It was illuminated, of course, and its glass sides gave no more shelter than a show-case; but once I could reach Charters or H.M. I was not concerned with that. Putting down my bundle, I felt in my pocket after coins. Then was when I remembered most distinctly that my wallet was in the breast pocket of the coat at the police station. In my trousers pocket I found the sum of threepence-halfpenny in coppers — no more.
Nevertheless, since Torquay was only ten odd miles off, threepence should suffice for the call. I got the Exchange, and explained exactly what I wanted, making it official business: I must speak personally with Colonel Charters, either at the central office or at his home. Even at the last moment I was afraid that the cussedness of all human events would prevent it, and I almost yelped with relief when, out of the buzzing and gear-shifting along the line, Charters's voice wormed through.
'My pal,' I said, putting into it all the concentrated venom that the words would hold.
Either Charters or the telephone cleared its throat, noisily. Charters spoke in that stiff manner which authority always uses even when it has dropped a brick.
'Blake? Sorry, Blake. I'm afraid we've made a mistake. It's quite all right: you'll be released immediately: I've already sent the order through. Merrivale discovered I suppose you're at the police station?'
'No, I am not at the police station. I am at a telephone-box somewhere out in the wilds, in my shirtsleeves and with exactly one halfpenny in my pocket. The whole constabulary of Moreton Abbot has been chasing me for what seems like the last two days, after throwing me into clink on your order. In a bundle right here I've got a stolen policeman's uniform, a lantern, and the rest of my own clothes. I may add that I would like to strangle you with the necktie.'
'You tried to escape? Blake, I didn't know you could be such a fool! If you had only been content to sit down and wait-'
I shut my eyes. 'Colonel Charters,' I said, 'the time is short and it is no good arguing with a man who has a sense of gratitude like yours. What I am trying to tell you is that I DID escape. And before we go any farther, will you for God's sake tell me what did happen and why I was arrested?'
Charters was shaky and bewildered.
'It was Serpos — Joseph Serpos, you know. My secretary. I can't believe it, Blake; I never thought he'd do anything like that. As a matter of fact, he must have had it all planned out in advance. He planned to rob my safe here and make a getaway. He knows I'm not a rich man, of course, but still he doesn't seem to know that those things in the safe were exhibits in the Willoughby case. He wasn't here at the time we caught Willoughby. The fool! Anyhow, he packed a black bag and got into my car and drove away over an hour before you left…'
'Yes, but why arrest me?'
'It was Dr. Antrim's fault. Antrim says he met you going down the drive. He was nervous, or muddled, or I don't know what. Just as you left, you remember, Merrivale and I were going to look at the exhibits in the Willoughby case. We discovered the robbery — and a polite, finicky note from Serpos saying he was leaving, and it would be useless to try to track him. Just then Antrim came in. For some reason he seemed to have unholy suspicions of you. He swore you must have robbed the safe, because he'd seen you escaping in my car. Naturally we knew it was Serpos who had robbed it, but we thought Serpos had pinched Merrivale's Lanchester because it was faster…. Whereupon,' said Charters bitterly, 'Merrivale conceived the brilliant and subtle idea that the whole switch of cars was a plot: that Serpos had deliberately chosen the Lanchester so that we should think you had gone in it: that Serpos, if he were stopped, would pretend to be you. So I sent out an order to arrest a man in a Lanchester numbered AXA 564, who would carry a black bag and might give the name of Blake. Antrim swore flatly, you see, that you'd gone away in a blue Hillman.
'He must be blind. They don't look anything alike. Besides there was somebody else there when I talked to Antrim: an American named Stone.'
'Who,' said Charters grimly, 'said he didn't know one of our cars from another. Don't talk to me about Stone! There was the hell of a row up here between him and Merrivale; but never mind that now. We didn't tumble to the business about the cars until I got the message that the black bag of the sinister criminal they bad caught contained a set of burglar's tools.' (In the background I could hear H.M.'s voice squawking fiendishly, apparently with some protest or some message he wanted transmitted.) 'But I suppose you don't see you've ruined everything, Blake? I don't know how you escaped. All the same, you won't have a chance now to have a look at Hogenauer's house, or in the big desk, or '
'On the contrary,' I said, 'on the contrary, I have already done it in spite of your bloodhounds.'
I recounted all the facts, as fast and as concisely as I could. In the middle of it the Exchange butted in for some more money, but we got the charges reversed after some wrangling. Also, there appeared to be a little trouble at the other end of the wire while Charters was passing on the information as I gave it. I could hear H.M. in the background, and another voice as well. I concluded by quoting
word for word, as far as I could remember, the words on the blotter.
'Consequently, I shouldn't have got away at all if the coppers hadn't been so flabbergasted at discovering that body that they were off balance. And here's the point: it's all very well to say you've telephoned through to the police station and told them to release me. But the point is that now they want me as the key witness in a murder case. Even though they're convinced I didn't have anything to do with the murder, still it'll be cheerio to any wedding to-morrow if they catch up with me. Will you try to get busy and think of a way out of this?'
Hogenauer-drank-strychnine — ' said Charters dully. The telephone seemed to go dead, and I jiggled it. 'Merrivale will take over,' Charters added.
'How de do, Ken?' rumbled H.M.'s voice, casually.
'As to your part in this affair,' I said, 'I remain coldly silent. But in all fairness, have another inspiration! Think of some subtle means by which I can pull myself out of this. Can you do it?'
'Well… now,' said the old man. I could picture him scratching the side of his jaw with one finger. 'I been sittin' and thinkin' here in the last couple of minutes, and I believe I got it. Uh-huh, we can get you out of it-1'
'Yes?'
`The envelope is in the upper left-hand pigeon-hole in Keppel's desk at the Cabot Hotel, Bristol',' H.M. quoted. 'Well, now, Ken,' he said with an air of inspiration, 'the only thing for you to do is to hurry on to Bristol and pinch that envelope before Keppel gets back. Hey?'
I stood back and studied the telephone. For sheer, consummate, unadulterated nerve; for nerve which sprang like a fountain at the stars and poured like a cataract into a voiceless pit; this proposal seemed to outmatch anything I had heard that night.
'Won't you be satisfied until I stay in jail?' I inquired. 'Is it absolutely necessary for me to get twenty years in order to make you happy? What's the matter with you, anyway? H.M., I won't do it, and that's flat.'
'I bet you do, though,' said the old man gleefully. 'You want to bet, hey? Listen, Ken. Dammit, don't carry on like that! You're goin' to do it of your own free will. Do you know who's at Charter's place, do you know who's standin' at my elbow talkin' to me this very minute? Well, I'll tell you. It's your light o' life, your petit morceau de fluff, your intended bride, Evelyn Cheyne…' 'What?'
'Uh-huh. (Shut up, wench!)' He howled at someone behind him, and then turned back to the telephone. 'How can I help it if she follows you? Am I to blame if she insists on chasm her true love? She got here not ten minutes after you'd left, walked in bright and breezy and beamin', and said she wasn't going to miss whatever fireworks were on display. Now, if you won't go to Bristol, she's offered to go herself; so I think you better go along and protect her. She takes awful chances, son…’
'No, it ain't `blackmail,' either! Don't you say that. Bum me, Ken, can't you see this is the only way to do it? If it'll comfort you any, I'll absolutely guarantee that Charters and I can arrange it so that you don't get dragged into this business of Hogenauer's death at all, so that you ain't called as a witness and never show your nose anywhere. But I can't do it immediately: I mean I can't do it smack within the next couple of hours: there's got to be some wire-pullin' first. D'ye see that? And it's the next couple of hours that count. Ken, you got to go on to Bristol straight as a homin' crow, and pinch that envelope before Keppel gets back to his hotel. You got to go by train, too. It's a pretty long way, and what we want is speed.'
'With a halfpenny in my pocket,' I said, 'and without a coat-'
'Sure!' agreed H.M. comfortably, 'and that's where the wench comes in. There's a late train up from Plymouth that gets into Moreton Abbot at 11.20. It's a fast train to London, but it makes several stops, and Bristol is one of 'em. It'll be touch-and-go if we can make it, but we'll snap the wench to Moreton Abbot as fast as we can, and I think she can make it. You meet her on the platform. She can't pick you up where you are, because the station's
