Читать книгу Mystery in the Channel - Freeman Wills Crofts - Страница 5

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A little group of men were awaiting them as they steered to the gangway indicated by the harbour authorities. There were Sergeant Heath and two men of the Sussex County Constabulary, the harbour-master and a couple of his myrmidons, as well as, in the background, a number of the curious who had sensed a thrill as the vulture senses carrion. They stood watching as Mackintosh brought the Nymph slowly alongside, seemingly hypnotised by the stains on the white deck and the terribly suggestive shape beneath the ensign. When the yacht was moored Nolan laid the launch alongside her, dropping in a fender and attaching her with bow and stern ropes, as had already been done in mid-Channel. Mackintosh was a well-known figure in Newhaven and was recognised by all, but questioning glances were levelled at Nolan and the launch.

“We had a message from Captain Hewitt,” the harbour-master called down when the berthing was complete, “so we were expecting you, Mr. Mackintosh. But who is this you’ve got along with you?”

“Mr. Nolan,” Mackintosh shouted up. “Gentleman who knew the deceased. He came up in his launch just after the Chichester had gone on.”

“That’s all right,” returned the harbour-master, and conferred with Sergeant Heath.

“I’d be obliged if both you gentlemen would stay where you are for the present,” the latter called. He had some further discussion with the harbour-master, who nodded and walked off. Then the sergeant climbed somewhat ponderously down the gangway ladder, followed by his two constables.

Sergeant Heath was a pleasant-spoken man who did his duty quietly and efficiently and was a general favourite in the neighbourhood. He greeted Mackintosh as an old friend, gave Nolan a civil good evening, and then turned to survey the traces of the tragedy.

“A bad business, this,” he said, following with his eyes the track across the deck. “I’ve been talking to Captain Hewitt and that doctor on the phone, so I know something about it. Have you made any further discoveries, Mr. Mackintosh?”

“No,” said Mackintosh, “only what Mr. Nolan here told me. As I said, he knew the deceased.”

“So. We’ll go into that later. Meanwhile let’s see what’s to be seen. Let’s have the flag up, Mr. Mackintosh.”

Once again the still, grey-clad figure was revealed with the sinister pool beside the head. The men ranged themselves round and stood looking down.

“He hasn’t been moved?”

“No, sergeant, only when the doctor lifted his head.”

“The doctor said he was shot. You’ve not found a gun?”

“No, but we havna yet seen the right hand.”

The sergeant nodded.

“We’ll not move him now. Let’s see the other body.”

They trooped down to the cabin. Heath stopped on reaching the bottom of the stairs, Mackintosh looking over his shoulder. The two constables, after peering and craning for some moments, gave it up as a bad job and returned to the deck.

“I see,” the sergeant said presently. “We’ll leave everything undisturbed in the meantime. Now, Mr. Mackintosh, I’d like a statement from you and Mr. Nolan. Just short ones; you can give fuller details later.”

They returned to the deck and Mackintosh gave him a rapid account of the sighting and salvage of the Nymph and the arrival of Nolan.

He had scarcely finished when there was a diversion. A middle-aged man in plus fours, well set-up and with a military bearing, appeared at the edge of the gangway, and climbing nimbly down the ladder, stepped on board. The sergeant swung round, then saluted.

“Evening, sergeant. Evening, men,” said the newcomer pleasantly. “So the yacht has turned up? I thought I’d look in on my way home to find out.”

“Just come in a few minutes ago, sir. I was beginning to make my examination.”

“Good, good. And these gentlemen?”

“This is Mr. Mackintosh.” The sergeant made a half-bow. “He’s the officer from the Dieppe boat who went aboard the yacht and worked her in. The other gentleman, I understand, is a Mr. Nolan, who turned up later in his launch. I’ve not had his statement yet.” He turned to the others. “Gentlemen, this is Major Turnbull, our chief constable.”

The major courteously acknowledged the introduction.

“I don’t want to interfere with what you’re doing, sergeant,” he went on, “but while I’m here I’d like to see what’s to be seen. A terrible business; terrible! These are the first marks?” He pointed to the trail of blood. As he spoke he moved along it to the companion, then rapidly examined the further grim evidences of the tragedy.

“Dear, dear! A terrible affair! Those two poor fellows,” he murmured in a sort of running commentary. “Terrible! Nothing has been touched as yet, I suppose?”

“No, sir, except for the doctor,” and the sergeant repeated what Mackintosh had told him.

“Dear, dear! Very sad; very sad indeed. Have you had a statement yet from Mr. Mackintosh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“On paper?”

“No, sir. Just a short verbal statement so as I might get the hang of the affair.”

“Quite right; quite right. Well, suppose we ask Mr. Mackintosh to repeat it for my benefit? I think we might as well get it down on paper at the same time. Either of these men write shorthand?”

“Both do, sir.”

“Good, good. Then let’s sit down. The constable can write on his knee. Hard lines, Mr. Mackintosh, to ask you to go over it all again, but I’m sure you won’t mind obliging me. By the way, Mr. Nolan, won’t you come aboard and join us? We shall also want to hear what you have to tell us.”

Along the rail there were seats, to which the party moved. Mackintosh had noticed some deck chairs in the store, and for these he sent his men. As the chief constable pointed out, they were here as comfortable as in the sergeant’s office and almost as private. The tide was out and they were too far below the level of the inquisitive on the gangway for anything that was said to be overheard. They also had the advantage that they remained on the scene of the tragedy and could make examinations as and when these became necessary.

“By the way, sergeant,” Turnbull went on, “I wish you’d send your other man for a photographer. Then let him go on and ask Dr. Nelson to step down. I think we must see if there’s anything in that poor fellow’s right hand. Now, Mr. Mackintosh?”

For the second time Mackintosh told his story, giving it this time in fuller detail.

“That makes things clear so far,” Major Turnbull approved. “We have already had telegraphic reports from the captain and doctor, so I think we can picture the thing pretty clearly, eh, sergeant? Got all that down, constable?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. We’ll get it transcribed and then we shall ask you to sign it. An amazing business, amazing! But most cases look like that at first. Now, Mr. Nolan, perhaps you would tell us what you know? Your full name, please, and address?”

“John Patrick Nolan, 506 St. Mary’s Mansions, St. James’s.”

“And your business?”

“A partner in Moxon’s General Securities.”

The chief constable looked up sharply, as if about to make some remark. But he evidently thought better of it and merely resumed his questions.

“I understood Mr. Mackintosh to say that you knew the deceased?”

“I did. They were two of my partners; Mr. Moxon, the chairman, and Mr. Deeping, the vice-chairman.”

The chief constable whistled softly, but made no other comment. For a moment he seemed lost in thought, then he went on: “I think, Mr. Nolan, I must ask you to tell me your story in your own way. I don’t want a fully detailed statement; that can wait. Give me just a rough idea of things, so that I may settle our line of action. This may not be a matter for the Sussex police at all.”

Nolan hesitated as if to collect his thoughts, while he nervously lit a cigarette. The scene would have struck an onlooker as highly unconventional, if not actually incongruous. The peaceful summer’s evening, the warm atmosphere, still slightly hazy, the somnolent shipping of the little port, the quiet wharf across the river, the gangway with its spidery, seaweed-clad piles, the soft murmur of the tiny ripples, and the yacht, so evidently a rich man’s toy, all were far removed from tragedy and the grim realities of the law. The little knot of inquisitives had melted away, and save for the muffled clanking of a distant crane, loading cargo on the night boat to France, there was neither sight nor sound of human activity.

“If it’s only a rough idea you want, I can give it to you in a couple of words,” Nolan said at last, and he went on to repeat the story he had told to Mackintosh. He explained about the French financier, Pasteur, with whom Moxon had been in negotiation, and about the meetings for that evening and the next day in which these negotiations were to culminate. He told of the dinner in London on the previous night, of Moxon’s request to him to make the journey to France in his place, and of the means he had adopted to get away from Dover in time.

“That’s all very clearly put, Mr. Nolan,” the chief constable commented; “very clearly put. I think we all understand. Now I expect you’re tired and want to get away, but I’d be glad if you’d stay till we’ve settled our procedure. We’ll have to wait for the doctor and photographer before disturbing the bodies. I’m anxious to see about that gun. Look if there’s any sign of either, will you, sergeant?”

As he spoke a small man bearing a big camera appeared at the edge of the gangway and began gingerly descending the ladder. Hesitatingly he turned to the sergeant, but Major Turnbull got up and greeted him.

“Just ready for you,” he said cheerily. “Now come here and I’ll show you what we want.”

First the trail across the deck was photographed from different points of view, Major Turnbull having first placed a two-foot rule on the deck beside it. Then once again the blue ensign was removed and a number of views were taken of the grim, grey-clad figure. The photographer then went below, while Sergeant Heath drew in chalk on the deck the outline of the body. This was repeated in the cabin.

By the time these operations were completed there was another interruption. A hail came from the gangway and a rotund little man began with much puffing and blowing to climb down to the yacht.

“Good-evening, every one,” he beamed as he bustled on board. “Evening, sergeant. How are you, major? Serious affair this. That you, Mr. Mackintosh? You’re the hero of this unhappy occasion, eh? Bless my soul, major, it’s not often tragedy comes to Newhaven. Two men killed, is it?”

“Two men, doctor. Both reported to be shot dead, though we’ve made no detailed examination as yet.”

“Huh. Soon find that out. Can’t remove the traces of a bullet. That’s something beyond even the cleverest murderer, eh, major?”

“We don’t know yet if it is murder.”

“Shouldn’t be hard to find that out, surely? What about the weapon?”

“That’s just it, doctor. What we want to know at this present stage is really only whether or not there’s a weapon on board.” They had approached the figure on the deck. “You see, the right hand is covered. We want to know if this man fired the shots.”

“Bless my soul,” Dr. Nelson cried again, staring at the still figure. “And where’s the other?”

They went once again to the cabin.

“No doubt about that, eh, major? Shot through the head! Instantaneous? Oh, yes, quite. A biggish gun, possibly a service revolver, though it’s too soon to be certain of that. Nothing in either hand. Well, major, you don’t want me to look for a gun here? Job for your people, isn’t it?”

“Of course, of course, Dr. Nelson. It’s the deck case that we were doubtful of.”

“Yes, well I’ll soon tell you that. Here, men,” and he beckoned to the constables.

Under the doctor’s directions the body was reverently turned over on its back. At once the injury to the head became visible. In this case also there could be no doubt as to the suddenness with which death had occurred. But what interested the police even more was the fact that though the right hand was clenched, it was empty. Nor was there any sign of a pistol.

“Then it’s murder!” The chief constable made the exclamation, then for some moments the little group remained silent. On Dr. Nelson’s face there gradually grew a puzzled expression. Turnbull noticed it and presently asked the cause.

“Why, it’s this,” the little man returned. “That wound on the head would cause instantaneous death. As you know yourself, major, a dead body doesn’t bleed; at least, not much. Now there’s a fair amount of blood round here; more than ever came from that wound. There must be another wound somewhere, though I don’t see it.”

Turnbull slowly nodded.

“Very true, doctor; very true. I hadn’t thought of that. You suggest then that the man was wounded first, but not killed; that he lay bleeding for some time, and that then there was this second shot in the head which finished him off?”

“Looks like it. Must make a proper examination before I can say.”

“I don’t think we need mind that for the present. We’ll get the bodies moved to the mortuary and any further examination necessary can be made there. Will you arrange it, sergeant? Very much obliged to you, doctor, for coming down.”

Dr. Nelson took a somewhat voluble farewell. He was followed by the photographer, after the latter had received instructions to work all night if necessary, but to have the prints ready for nine o’clock next morning. It was then the third officer’s turn.

“Well, Mr. Mackintosh, I’m sure you’ve had enough of it. You can get away any time you like. I’m sure we’re all very much obliged to you. Of course you’ll be wanted at the inquest.”

Mackintosh immediately vanished and the major turned with a smile to Nolan.

“What did you think of doing, Mr. Nolan?” he asked politely.

“London,” the other answered. “I must be getting back as soon as possible. Now that these two poor fellows are gone, I believe I’m the senior partner, and I’d like to be at the office in the morning. To tell the truth, it’ll not be easy to follow such a pair.”

Once again the major glanced curiously at the speaker, but all he said was: “Well, you can’t do much by rail. You’ve missed the 8.5 and there’s only a slow train to-night which doesn’t get to Town till about one in the morning. But it happens that I have to go to London almost at once and I should be very pleased to offer you a seat.”

“Very good of you, major. Thanks, I’ll take it.”

“Well, we’ll go to the hotel for a snack. I’m afraid there’ll scarcely be time for a proper dinner. We should be in Town by eleven-thirty or twelve. That do?”

“Suit me first rate, thank you. But there are a couple of things that I must settle before we leave. First, I must wire to M. Pasteur at Fécamp, that no one from our firm can go over. Second, there are three keys to the strong-room in the Securities building, any two of which will open it. One was held by Moxon, one by Deeping and one by myself. To-morrow we’ll be wanting the strong-room opened so we’ll need those keys.”

“Right, right. I’ll tell the sergeant to get them while we’re at supper. Also if you draft out your message to Fécamp, the sergeant will send it.”

“Thanks. Another thing. What about my launch? Can you people look after her, or shall I make an arrangement about her with the harbour-master?”

“We can do it for you for the present,” Turnbull replied. “You’ll have to come down here for the inquest in any case, and perhaps then you could make your own arrangements.”

“Then I’ll just get my papers.”

He dived into the launch’s cabin, returning immediately with a despatch case. “The business with Pasteur,” he explained. “I’d better take the papers with me. No objection, I suppose?”

“Of course not, Mr. Nolan.”

Nolan produced a small bunch of keys.

“Then here are the keys of the launch, and perhaps the sergeant would lock her up before leaving?”

Turnbull said he would see to it, then excusing himself, drew the sergeant out of earshot.

“I’ve been thinking this matter over, sergeant, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we’d be very foolish to take anything to do with it. It’s not a local crime. It didn’t take place within thirty miles of us and all the people concerned are Londoners. It’s a job for the Yard and I’m going up now to see them about it. I’m sorry, sergeant, to seem to take away your opportunity,” the major prided himself on his tact, “but if you think of it you’ll see that all your inquiries would have to be made in London. You understand, don’t you?”

The sergeant, the weight of a great trouble rolled from off his shoulders, saluted delightedly.

“Now to-night,” went on Turnbull, “will you get the bodies of those two poor fellows up to the mortuary, then seal the cabin door and put a couple of men on to see that neither the Nymph nor the launch is interfered with. Have the photographs in the morning and be ready to give the Yard officer any help he may require. And another thing, sergeant. I wish you’d get those two statements typed out now and bring them to the hotel, together with the keys from the dead men’s pockets. I’ll see some one at the Yard to-night and I’d like to have these things with me.”

Again the sergeant saluted as the major led his guest to the waiting car.