Bodies from the Library: Lost Tales of Mystery and Suspense by Agatha Christie and other Masters of the Golden Age

‘Exactly!’ Winthrop turned to Fortescue. ‘Mr Fortescue, I saw Mr Caryu this morning. He informed me that he was sending certain important papers. Did you know this?’

‘No, Sir Charles. Oh, heavens! Surely—’

He broke off, staring blankly at Winthrop.

Winthrop sat down at his desk.

‘Your case was stolen, Mr Fortescue. Presumably when you dropped it in Piccadilly.’

‘But—but, Sir Charles, it was only on the ground for an instant. Besides, who could know that the case contained anything important?’

‘I’m afraid I cannot tell you that,’ Winthrop said coolly. ‘Will you please try and remember the exact circumstances of your dropping it?’

‘I—I crossed to the “island”, Sir Charles, and waited for the stream of traffic to pass. There—there were a good many people on the “island”, and, as I said, there was a lot of pushing and barging. There was a stout woman who rather lost her head and tried to make a dash for the other side of the road, and had to get back again to the “island” in a hurry. She must have pushed the man standing next to me. Anyway, he fell against me, and I lost my balance, and—and I dropped the case.’

‘And this man,’ said Winthrop. ‘Was he by any chance carrying a dispatch-case?’

The secretary moistened his lips.

‘I—I’m afraid I didn’t notice, sir. I dare say he was. It was at an hour when most men are coming away from business, and—Oh, heavens!’ He ended on a stricken note. ‘What a fool I am! What a damned fool! If only I’d known that there were important papers in the case! Sir Charles, it—they—they weren’t the new plans?’

‘That is precisely what they were,’ Winthrop answered.

He unhooked the receiver from the telephone and called a number. While he was waiting to be connected he glanced at Linckes, smiling rather wearily.

‘Well, here’s your chance, Linckes. And he’s got away with it, the scoundrel! Hallo! Is that Mr Caryu’s house? Put me through to him, please. Winthrop speaking. Thanks!’

Again there was a pause. Then he began to speak into the telephone. Quite calmly he told Caryu all that had happened. At the end he hung up the receiver and nodded to Fortescue.

‘Mr Caryu wants you to go back, Fortescue.’

Some of the pallor left Fortescue’s face.

‘Mr—Mr Caryu doesn’t suspect me, sir?’

‘No. You’d better get along as fast as possible. Tell Mr Caryu that I shall come round at once.’

‘One moment!’ interposed Linckes.

‘Can you remember what the man who fell against you looked like?’

‘Just—just ordinary,’ answered the unhappy secretary. ‘He was middle-aged, I think, but I won’t swear to it.’

‘I see. Thank you! Winthrop, I won’t stay to dinner, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll get right on to this at once.’

Winthrop nodded.

VI

It was close on eleven o’clock that same evening, and Arlington Street was very quiet. One or two people passed down the road, and presently someone left Winthrop’s house and went away in a large limousine. Several people had visited Sir Charles that evening, and he himself had returned from Caryu’s house shortly after eight.

For some time after the last visitor had departed there was silence in the street, and then the chunk-chunk of a London taxi made itself heard, and in a few moments a car drew up outside No. 10. A man in an overcoat and opera hat got out, paid the driver, and mounted the steps to the front door. He pressed the bell, and stood waiting to be admitted. He was a medium-sized man, inclined to stoutness, and with a short, grizzled beard. The butler opened the door.

‘Is Sir Charles in?’ asked the newcomer. His voice was rather hoarse and guttural.

‘Yes, sir. But I don’t think he’s seeing anyone else today.’

‘Would you ask him if he will give me a moment?’

The man handed John a card. The butler read it.

‘Oh, Mr Knowles, sir! I beg your pardon! Will you come in while I see if Sir Charles is still up?’

Knowles entered the house, and the door closed again.

From the shadowy depths of the area two men rose stealthily, and crept up the steps to the street.

‘Got him!’ Linckes whispered. ‘Your revolver ready, Tomlins?’

His companion nodded.

‘Yes, it is. Wish I knew what you’re about.’

‘You soon will know,’ said Linckes grimly. ‘Your men are prepared?’

‘Inspector Gregory’s at the back of the house, Mr Linckes, and Inspector Marks is just down the road. He’ll come up to the house with Sergeant O’Hara as soon as we get in.’

‘All right. Don’t forget that all you’ve got to do is to follow me and to do as I say instantly.’

‘No, sir. Carry on!’

Linckes ran lightly up the steps of the house and rang the bell. After a short pause the door was opened.

‘John, is Sir Charles up?’

‘Yes, sir. Oh, is it you, sir? Come in!’

Linckes walked into the hall, followed by the other detective. John looked at Tomlins surprisedly.

‘Sir Charles is engaged just at the moment, sir. But if you’ll wait—’

‘Oh, is he? We’ll just wait here, then. Don’t bother to stay, John.’

He turned to Tomlins.

‘The library is at the bottom of this passage. It’ll be locked, and we shall wait in absolute silence outside. There are two men in the room, and when they come out you are to cover Sir Charles Winthrop. Leave the other to me. See?’

‘Can’t say I do, sir. But I’ll do as you say, of course.’