Ask a Policeman

“Can’t say that I do, sir. I’d left my watch in my coat pocket in the potting-shed. But it was a fair time before Mr. Scotney came out just afore one to call me.”

“Mr. Scotney?” the Commissioner asked. “Who’s he?”

“Why, the chauffeur, to be sure, sir. He always gives me a call just afore one when I’m working round the front. And I saw the lady long before then.”

The Commissioner curbed his impatience. “Can’t you give me some idea of how long before?” he asked.

“Might have been one hour, might have been three. A man don’t take much heed o’ time when he’s bedding-out. ’Tis a dull job, that is, and precious little praise at the end of it from his Lordship.”

“The lady walked on to the lawn, you say. Did you see where she came from?”

“Why, where would she come from? Not out of the house, that’s sure. Must have come in through the drive gate, I suppose. In one of they motors, most like. I didn’t give it a thought. And she hadn’t been on the lawn many minutes before she comes back again, quicker than she went.”

“How far on to the lawn did she go?”

“Bless you, sir, I can’t tell you that. I had more to do than watch the visitors what come to the, house. Besides, his Lordship wouldn’t thank me to be too curious of any lady that might come to see him. Them as is shortsighted gets on best in some situations.”

“Well, if you didn’t see how far she went, you can tell what became of her, I suppose?”

“Aye, I can do that, sir, for I saw her again a few minutes later. A motor drove out through the gate, and she was sitting beside the gentleman who was driving it. That was before I saw the other gentleman, of course.”

“Before you saw which other gentleman?” asked the Commissioner angrily.

“Why, him that came running round the corner of the house across the lawn, to be sure, sir. I thought he was trying to catch up the lady. He had a motor, too, for I see him jump into it and go off after the car with the lady and the other gentleman in it.”

“Oh, you saw that, did you? Did you see anybody else whatever on the lawn this morning?”

“Not a soul, sir. ‘Twasn’t usual for anybody to go that way in the morning.”

“Did you leave your bedding-out to go to the kitchen garden at all?”

“Not this morning, sir. I hadn’t any occasion to, since I’d brought in the vegetables for the house afore nine o’clock.”

“When did you last unlock the gate leading from the kitchen garden to the lawn?”

“Not since the day before yesterday, sir, when I was mowing the lawn and carried the grass through that way to the marrow bed.”

The Commissioner glanced at Sir Philip, who shook his head. At a sign from the former, Shawford led the gardener to the door, motioned him through, and shut it behind him. Then the Commissioner turned to Mills, “Who was this lady?” he asked sharply.

Mills shrugged his shoulders. “I really can’t say,” he replied. “I never saw her, and this is the first I’ve heard of her. But, since she apparently went away with Sir Charles Hope-Fairweather, it seems reasonable to suppose that she came with him.”

Apparently Farrant had not seen her either. As he was speaking, the telephone on Sir Philip’s desk buzzed discreetly. The Home Secretary picked up the instrument and put the receiver to his ear. “Thanks, Anderson,” he said. Then, to the Commissioner, “Hope-Fairweather is here. We’d better have him in, I think.” He returned to the telephone. “Show him in, will you, Anderson,” he said.

The door opened, and Sir Charles entered the room. He was a tall man, exquisitely dressed, and with an impressive presence. But this was lost upon the group in the Home Secretary’s room. By a common impulse each member of it turned his eyes upon the newcomer’s hands. He still wore a glove upon his left hand, in which he held the second glove, withdrawn from his right.

He had clearly expected to find the Home Secretary alone. As he glanced round the room and saw its unaccustomed occupants, he came to an abrupt standstill. He glanced first at the Commissioner, who averted his eyes, and then at Sir Philip, who nodded towards a chair. “Sit down, Hope-Fairweather,” said the latter brusquely. “I’ve got a question or two to ask you. You went to see Comstock this morning, I believe?”

Sir Charles’ eyes lighted up suddenly, whether with fear or astonishment it was impossible to say. He glanced round the room once more, and for the first time recognised Mills. His handsome face grew very red. “Yes, Sir Philip, I went to see him,” he replied. “On a purely personal matter, of course. But, as his secretary will tell you, I was unfortunately compelled to leave the house without getting a word with him.”

“A purely personal matter, you say? Am I to understand that you and Comstock were on cordial terms? This seems very curious for a man in your position.”

Again that queer look came into the Chief Whip’s eyes. “The terms we were on were anything but cordial,” he replied. “In fact—” But he checked himself hurriedly.

“Yet you took the trouble to go to Hursley Lodge to see him,” persisted Sir Philip. “Had you a previous appointment?”

The Chief Whip shook his head violently. “Most certainly not,” he replied. “I drove over merely on chance. I had something to say to Comstock which could only be mentioned at a personal interview. But, as I have said, I was unsuccessful. I had no opportunity for entering his presence.”

“You were not able to penetrate into the study?”

“I was not. Somebody else was in there all the time. I could hear Comstock’s voice talking angrily off and on all the time I was there.”

“From what Mr. Mills has told us, you seem to have been rather restless during your visit. You asked him to convey a message to your chauffeur that you might be detained, I believe.”

“To my chauffeur!” exclaimed Sir Charles. “Certainly not, I had no chauffeur with me. I was driving the car myself. I may have told the secretary—ah, yes, quite so, Mr. Mills—that I was going out to take a message to my car, when I happened to meet him in the hall.”

“Somebody was waiting for you in the car, then?” asked Sir Philip quietly.

Once more the Chief Whip grew very red. “Yes, a friend of mine,” he replied in a tone of forced unconcern.

Sir Philip nodded. “Ah, I see. A lady, was it not?”

The Chief Whip glanced swiftly round the room, as though trying to discover who could have revealed this fact. “Yes, it was a lady,” he replied slowly. “Since she was not in any way concerned with my visit to Hursley Lodge, there is no necessity to mention her name. I asked her to wait in the car while I went in to see Comstock, telling her I should not be longer than a few minutes. She knew nothing whatever of the matter which I wished to discuss with him.”

“You left in a considerable hurry, didn’t you?”

“I did. I had a luncheon appointment in town, and I had already waited so long—till past mid-day—that I was in danger of being late. Besides, my presence didn’t seem particularly welcome. I noticed that Mr. Mills seemed very anxious to get rid of me.”

Sir Philip was about to reply, when for the second time the house telephone buzzed. With an impatient gesture he picked up the instrument. “What is it now, Anderson?” he asked. “Oh, is he? Very well, I’ll tell Hampton.” He turned to the Commissioner. “Littleton’s on the phone, asking to speak to you,” he said. “Better have a word with him in Anderson’s room.”

The Commissioner fairly rushed to the door, and, once in the outer room, almost snatched the receiver from the private secretary’s hands. “Hullo!” he exclaimed. “Hullo! Damn it, we’ve been cut off! Yes, yes! Hampton speaking. Is that you, Littleton? Where are you? Where have you been all this time?”

“I’m at Winborough.” Littleton’s voice replied. “I say, I’ve had a devil of a time You’ve heard by now that that swine Comstock’s been murdered, I suppose?”

“Heard it! I’ve heard of nothing else for the last hour and a half. What I want to know is, how the devil you were mixed up in it. What in Heaven’s name took you to Hursley Lodge of all places this morning? Comstock’s secretary, Mills, has told us all about it.”

“Has he? I shall want a few words with Mills when I see him. What did I go to Hursley Lodge for? Why, to see Comstock, of course. I had an idea that I could put a stop to that anti-police stunt of his. You’ve seen what his blessed rag says about the Little Cadbury case?”

“Yes, yes,” replied the Commissioner impatiently. “Get on, man, I can’t stop talking to you here. We are holding a conference in the Home Secretary’s room.”

“Oh, that’s it, is it? Well, I’ll give you the facts as briefly as I can. I knew of a way in which pressure could be brought upon Comstock. I happen to have come across a pretty sticky piece of work. There’s a woman in it, of course. You’ll hardly believe me when I tell you—”

“Not on the telephone. Never mind about that. What happened when you got there?”

“A devil of a lot happened. I drove up, and found that young chap Mills at the door. Can’t say that I was struck by the look of him. Wanted to keep me out, I fancy. But I soon put a stop to that nonsense. Told him that I meant to see Comstock, whatever he said. At last the fellow showed me into what looked like a drawing-room, and shut the door on me. And as soon as he’d gone, I heard voices from the next room. Comstock and somebody else having a devil of a row, I could tell that.

“I looked about the room a bit, and found that there was a dummy panel, forming a door, which must lead into the room where Comstock was kicking up all the rumpus. I didn’t want to butt in, so I strolled across the room and looked out of the window on to a sort of lawn. There was nobody about outside as far as I could see but a gardener chap pottering about the flower beds.”

“Did you see a car in the drive, besides the one you came in?” interrupted the Commissioner.