The Ginger Cat Mystery (26 page)

Miss Mayo here picked up a bag from the settee and extracting a small automatic pistol of Belgian manufacture handed it to Vereker. Vereker examined the weapon carefully, noted that it was a .22 calibre and was fully loaded.

“I think Inspector Heather will want to take charge of this weapon for a few days, Miss Mayo,” suggested Vereker.

“The dear man can have it for keeps if he wants to. Carrying it about has raised a bunion on my smart new bag and to part with it feels like giving away a cobra. I've been in mortal terror that someone would ask me what was making my bag look as if it had a lump of toffee stuck in its cheek. I couldn't very well whisper hoarsely, ‘A loaded pistol.' It's so un-English. It's different in the States. There, it's almost as civilized to carry a gun as it is to have false teeth or chew gum. To return to my subject, there's another very important bit of news I have for you. When Mr. David Cornell arrived this morning I was busy in my room tearing up all the letters I had written Frank. Mrs. Cornell had given them back to me the day before and I was running through them when there was a knock and she and her brother-in-law came into my room. After we had talked a while Mrs. Cornell and I went down to breakfast and Mr. Cornell to the music room. Breakfast over, I thought I'd finish my job of destroying my correspondence and I was feeling broken-hearted over it, because those letters recalled so many happy moments and times I'd had with Frank, when among the last few letters in the bundle I came across a note which was not in my handwriting and which Frank had evidently thrust among them in a hurry. I glanced at the note to see what it was about and found that it was from Mr. David Cornell to Frank. It is dated on Friday afternoon and, as you know, Frank was shot on Friday night or early Saturday morning. The contents gave me a terrible shock for the note is just a brief affair saying that Mr. Cornell would meet Frank in the music room at midnight instead of Stella who was too unwell to keep the secret tryst she had made with him. He would give the usual signal with an electric torch. It begs him not to fail to attend because the writer has something of vital importance to communicate on behalf of his daughter.”

“I hope you haven't destroyed the note, Miss Mayo?” exclaimed Vereker with excitement.

“No. I very nearly did so, but on thinking of the gravity of the contents, I kept it. You see, it means that Mr. David Cornell saw Frank after I did before he was murdered, and this completely alters my unhappy position in the business.”

“Have you told anyone about this note? Mrs. Cornell, for instance?” asked Vereker.

“No; I only came across it a few minutes before you called. Mrs. Cornell and her brother-in-law were together in her private room and they've been there ever since. I came down here to the drawing-room immediately after I found it. I'd heard that you were expected, so I thought the best thing I could do was to tell you. It would be a serious matter for me if I concealed such important information from the authorities and I suppose you'll inform Inspector Heather.”

“I think you decided wisely, Miss Mayo. To have destroyed the note or tried to suppress its contents in any way would have been criminal,” replied Vereker with suppressed excitement and asked, “Can you let me see it?”

“Here it is, and you'd better take charge of it,” said Miss Mayo producing the letter from her jumper pocket and handing it to Vereker, “but I think it only fair that you or I should tell Mrs. Cornell all about it, don't you?”

“No; for the time being I must ask you to keep the matter very strictly to yourself. To tell Mrs. Cornell wouldn't help matters in any way. She has enough to think about just now without our adding further to her worries. You'll see the necessity for discretion when you reflect that the note may have no bearing whatever on the tragedy of Mr. Frank Cornell's death. At first glance it puts Mr. Cornell in a very serious position. We'll have to see him about the matter and ask him if he had the interview with his nephew which he asks for in the note. The appointment may have been cancelled subsequently and doubtless Mr. Cornell will be able to give us a perfectly satisfactory explanation of the whole affair. The less the matter is discussed at the present juncture, the better for all concerned. I think you'll see I'm right in taking such a line, Miss Mayo.”

“Of course, you know best and I'll leave the matter entirely in your hands. I only hope I won't be brought too prominently into the affair.”

“No one need know how the note came into our possession for that matter,” replied Vereker, eager to assuage Miss Mayo's rather lively apprehensions as to the correctness of her own conduct. “In the meantime, keep your own counsel and I think you'll find that matters will adjust themselves all right.”

Vereker had hardly spoken these words when a maid knocked, entered, and said that Mrs. Cornell was now free and would like to see Mr. Vereker. Following her out of the room, Vereker dismissed her at the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor, telling her that he knew his way to Mrs. Cornell's private sitting-room. He then quickly ascended the thickly-carpeted stair to the half-landing on to which the music room opened and to his surprise noticed that the door was ajar. As he passed he instinctively glanced into the room and saw that it was occupied. Against the light of the far window was silhouetted the figure of a man bending over the settee on which Vereker had found his treasured clue of the cat's hair. Instantly Vereker recognized the figure as that of David Cornell and, struck by the man's unusual attitude, halted, and was on the point of greeting him. The impulse died as soon as it was born and he stood as if uncertain what to do. Evidently Cornell, intent on his own business, had failed to hear his approach. After carefully running his hand over the cretonne cover of the settee as if to smooth it out, the blind man stood erect and walked over to the door leading from the music room into the garden. Tentatively extending his hand, he touched the door, sought and found the door handle, and quietly let himself out on to the flight of steps which descended to the wide gravel path. At once Vereker, instead of going up to Mrs. Cornell's study, entered the music room and decided to follow Cornell. He allowed his man to get some distance ahead and then stepping on to the grass verge, so that his approach could not be heard, went slowly in pursuit. Though Cornell did not carry the usual stick as a guide, he walked with considerable pace and assurance. Use had evidently taught him every inch of his way and without faltering he proceeded into the formal garden and came to a halt beside the lily pool. There, he thrust his hand into the pocket of his jacket, produced something and flung it with great judgment into the pool. Vereker's eye followed the trajectory of that mysterious object, heard the splash of its entry into the water, and saw the circular ripples extend till they broke and vanished into the floating raft of lily leaves around. Quickly stepping on to the gravel path, he walked briskly towards Cornell who almost instantly heard his approach and turned round.

“Good morning,” said the blind man and waited to discover who the oncomer might be.

“Good morning, Mr. Cornell,” replied Vereker.

“Ah, I think I recognize the voice. Aren't you the
Daily Report
correspondent?”

“Quite correct,” said Vereker, “I thought it was you in the distance, but I wasn't quite certain. I merely wanted to ask you if I might call at the bungalow some time to-day.”

“Do so by all means. I'm afraid I shall be busy all afternoon and I dine at seven o'clock. Would you care to drop in about eight or is that too late for you?”

“That'll suit me admirably, thank you,” said Vereker. “I'm in a great hurry at the moment. I have an appointment with Mrs. Cornell and I'm already rather late.
Au revoir
.”

With these words Vereker turned and made his way back to the house at a double. Entering the music room, he crossed at once to the settee and ran his hands all over its surface. Then he thrust them into the interstice between the cushioned seat and the back. Almost at once his right hand came in contact with something hard and irregular which he carefully extracted between his finger and thumb. It was a nickel-plated automatic pistol of .22 calibre. Taking a small cardboard box (an article he always carried as part of his investigator's equipment) from his pocket, he dropped the pistol into it. Returning the box to his pocket, he swiftly left the room and ascended the stairs to Mrs. Cornell's private sitting-room.

“Good morning, Mr. Vereker,” said Mrs. Cornell with a pleasant smile. “I sent the maid for you ten minutes ago.”

“I must apologize, Mrs. Cornell,” interrupted Vereker, “but on my way upstairs I saw Mr. David Cornell leave the house by the music room. I wished to speak to him on rather an important matter, so I overtook him and made an appointment for this evening.”

“Is that all? I thought you were unable to tear yourself away from Miss Mayo. She's rather lovely and I think you're impressionable.”

“If that were the case, Mrs. Cornell, I would have dashed upstairs ten minutes ago,” replied Vereker boldly.

“You're an impudent flatterer as well as a smart detective,” replied Mrs. Cornell genially. “Have you any news of Miss Cornell for me?”

The inspector has put the search machinery into motion, but so far we haven't heard any news of her.

“Did Doctor Redgrave unburden himself to you last night?” asked Mrs. Cornell.

“Very frankly. He has been extremely obliging and helpful.”

“That's his nature; he can't help himself. Did you learn anything about the professional secret that was mentioned yesterday in our talk?”

“Yes, he decided that it was his duty to tell us an important fact about Miss Cornell which in other circumstances he wouldn't have divulged on any account. It explains the girl's disappearance and helps to clear away suspicion that she has vanished from criminal motives.”

“So I thought, too, but it afterwards struck me that it added weight to the question of motive for revenge. Still, I'm glad you feel satisfied on the point. You'll let me know at once when you get in touch with her. I'm beginning to feel very anxious as to what she might do.”

“I'll ring you up from the village post office as soon as we get any news, Mrs. Cornell, and if there's nothing else I can do at the moment, I'll get back at once to Marston.”

“There's nothing else, thanks, Mr. Vereker. Don't let me detain you a moment longer. I'm frightfully busy, too, and half the morning's gone already.”

“There's one little item I've forgotten to mention, Mrs. Cornell. Would you mind if I removed the old-fashioned lock on the door leading into the music room from the half-landing? I'll take it away with me and replace it in a day or so.”

“Take the whole door with you, Mr. Vereker,” replied Mrs. Cornell with a laugh. “But what on earth do you want that lock for? We've got duplicate keys if that's what you're after.”

“It's another professional secret and the inspector would be furious if I divulged it now,” replied Vereker smiling.

“Please don't upset the inspector on any account,” said Mrs. Cornell rising. “I'm getting quite intrigued with your detective methods. What with ginger tabbies and old-fashioned locks it sounds like something of Mr. Lewis Carroll's. I hope you'll tell me all about these mysterious things when you've found the culprit and finished with the case.”

“If you're really serious, Mrs. Cornell, I should very much like to,” replied Vereker.

“Now that's very nice of you. You said the words so sincerely, Mr. Vereker. Just drop me a line or ring me up and we'll fix up things. Only later on you must come and stay with Stanley and me. I shall be leaving the Manor after a certain happy event, but I'll post you our new address without fail.”

Thanking Mrs. Cornell for her invitation, Vereker let himself out of the study and at once descended to the music room. Producing a screwdriver from his pocket, he set to work and very carefully detached the old-fashioned lock from the door. This lock he at once wrapped up with meticulous care in several sheets of paper and, carrying it as if it were a delicate piece of porcelain, left the Manor at his fastest walking pace. He arrived at the “Dog and Partridge” breathless with haste and excitement and inquired of the landlord if Inspector Heather had returned. Learning that Heather was in his room, Vereker at once dashed upstairs and entered without even the ceremony of knocking. Heather, who was carefully brushing his hair before going down to lunch, turned round in his slow manner and looked at Vereker.

“What's up, Mr. Vereker. You look like a pack of hounds in full cry. Anything really important?” he asked and, laying down his hairbrushes on the dressing-table, picked up a screwdriver from beside them and quickly put it in his pocket.

“Now, Heather, what's that mysterious object you've surreptitiously slipped into your pocket?” asked Vereker with a smile lighting up his eager face.

“Only my old screwdriver,” replied Heather, producing the tool once more and returning it to his pocket. “I never go anywhere without it. It's as good a pal as my old pipe and doesn't smell.”

“You won't need it in this case, Heather,” replied Vereker looking mysteriously at the inspector who, observing his friend's unusual expression and the parcel held carefully in his left hand, exclaimed eagerly: “You don't mean to tell me you've got the lock to the music room door, Mr. Vereker? I was going up after lunch to get it myself.”

“You've guessed right first time, Heather. This parcel contains that lock. From your guess I realize that great minds think alike. We're both on the trail at last!”

“This is really first-rate, Mr. Vereker, absolutely first-rate,” said the inspector with gusto. “I hope you've been most careful in detaching it.”