I SPRANG to the ground by the side of the death-car. It was standing by the side of the road, just as I had left it, its silent owner sitting rigidly erect, still grasping the lever, and looking fixedly into the darkness.
"Forrest! Forrest!" I shouted again.
All was silent as the grave.
It was very strange. He had promised to await my return. I looked at my watch. Altogether half an hour had not elapsed since my departure. Yet many things might happen in half an hour with such a spirit of death abroad as I knew to be hovering around. I shivered.
The police sergeant was as much bewildered at Forrest's disappearance as myself. On our way, I had explained more fully the circumstances under which we had discovered the crime which had been committed. He knew my companion by name and reputation, and he was quite at a loss to explain his absence.
I scanned the road so far as it was revealed by our lights, half expecting yet dreading to see his prostrate form. But there was nothing visible. Each taking a lamp from my car, the sergeant and I set out to search the hedges and ditches on each side of the road. We did so conscientiously for a hundred yards up and down the road, and on each side, but found nothing.
When we got back to the car, the sergeant said to me—
"Perhaps Mr. Forrest has found a clue, and thought he would waste no time in following it up."
The suggestion seemed feasible enough, but just at that moment my glance fell on something at my feet which put the idea to flight. Lying on the road was a large button. I picked it up. I saw at once that it had been torn violently away from the garment to which it had been attached, for a piece of the cloth had come away with it, I looked at it narrowly—the cloth was of the same material as the overcoat Forrest had been wearing.
The button had been almost under the wheels of my car, so I backed the Mercédès a few yards, and looked about for further traces. In the space thus laid bare there lay a lamp smashed to pieces. I picked up the frame, and saw that it was one of the lamps taken from the other motor. Further search only revealed another button similarly attached to a shred of cloth like the first one I had found. That was all.
The sergeant looked at me and I at him. One thought was in both our minds, and we gave utterance to it simultaneously.
"The Motor Pirate has been back again."
"You must have scared him away the first time, and on his return to complete the job he found the inspector here, and——"
The sergeant did not complete his sentence, but glanced apprehensively up and down the road.
"If he has returned, I don't see what he can have done with Forrest," I replied.
"Heaven knows!" the man replied, involuntarily lowering his voice. "I—I begin to believe that this Motor Pirate is—is the Devil."
"Nonsense, man!" I said sharply.
To tell the truth, my own nerves, in spite of the whisky, were in none too firm a condition; and I knew it would be fatal to allow myself to become infected by the very obvious funk which had seized upon my companion. I felt, however, I must be doing something unless I wanted to succumb.
"Look here," I said, "you wait by the car a few minutes, while I go two or three hundred yards further up the road, to see if I can find any other traces."
"I—I would much rather you—you didn't leave me," stammered the sergeant. "It's bad enough for there to be only the two of us."
"Come, pull yourself together," I replied roughly. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"I don't think I can stand being left here alone," repeated the sergeant.
"Very well; you had better come along with me then," I replied.
He jumped into the car beside me with alacrity, and I started the motor, though not until I had arranged my revolver handily at my side. We went for a mile at our slowest pace in the direction of Stratford, and finding nothing, we returned, and covered the same distance in the direction of Towcester, with a similar result. Our progress was brought to a termination by our meeting with a trap containing the doctor, who was accompanied by a couple of constables. When we recognized who was approaching, the change that came over the demeanour of the sergeant was astonishing. All his courage came back to him. He talked to me quite easily as we returned to the scene of the outrage with the trap keeping close behind us; and when we pulled up, he took control of the proceedings as if he had never felt a moment's tremor in his life. He must have observed my astonishment, for he took me aside and said—
"I was a bit overcome just now, sir. You won't mention it before my men."
"Certainly not," I answered. "I was only one degree better myself."
"That's enough to make any one feel creepy," he said, jerking his thumb towards the silent figure.
We did nothing but stand about and talk in subdued tones, until the doctor had completed his examination of the silent figure by the light of my lamps. It did not last long.
"Death was instantaneous," he said, as he stepped down from the car. "The bullet appears to have passed straight along the longitudinal sinus, and, as near as I can tell, he must have been dead about an hour."
"You would like to make a more extensive examination, I suppose, doctor?" said the sergeant.
"If a suitable place were available," he replied.
The sergeant mentioned an inn at a village not far distant, and, the doctor acquiescing, arrangements were at once made for conveying the body there, the sergeant and I setting out in advance to provide for its reception.
I am not going into any further detail regarding the proceedings of that night. Indeed I can to-day scarcely recall them. I know that I waited at the inn for a long while after the melancholy cortège arrived, and that I felt curiously dazed amidst all the bustle caused by the arrival. I remember eventually driving the sergeant back to Towcester, and making to him a long statement, which he took down in writing.
By the time I had completed this statement day had dawned. I shall never forget my impressions of that early morning as I rode home alone. The birds were twittering in the hedgerows, a soft white mist hung low down over the meadows, all nature was so serene and peaceful that it was difficult to imagine that the night which had passed had been so full of horror and mystery. I felt as one awakened from a dream. But on my way I passed the deserted motor-car. A constable was beside it, and I pulled up to speak to him.
"Seen nothing of Inspector Forrest, I suppose?" I asked.
"Nothing," he replied.
I gave him good morning and got on. I made similar inquiries at Fenny Stratford, and again at Dunstable, still without result. I comforted myself with the thought that at St. Albans I should certainly hear news of him. But no. I found the police wild with excitement, but entirely without any information as to what had become of the missing detective. I found, however, that they did not share my forebodings as to anything serious having happened to him. Their view was that he had discovered some clue, and was hard upon the track of the murderer. I had to give them a complete history of the events of the night. But I got away at last, and reached home as tired as I had ever been in my life.
I took a bath as hot as I could bear it, and went straight to bed. I was dead beat, and I fell asleep instantly.
I awoke some time in the afternoon, and when I had got the sleep out of my eyes, and the events of the previous night came back to me, I felt inclined to curse myself for having thought of resting. I felt certain that if it had been myself who was missing, Forrest would not have slept until he had discovered something concerning my fate. I made a hasty meal while dressing, and ordered my car to be brought round. Directly it appeared I hurried off to St. Albans.
Nothing had been seen or heard there of Forrest, and once more I set out upon the road I had traversed the previous night. Again I rode as far as Towcester. I had a chat with the sergeant of police, and found that, though search parties had scoured the country round for miles, no intelligence had been obtained. I made arrangements to appear at the inquest on the following day, and returned to St. Albans. Still no news.
I got home again about seven, sick at heart. I had counted so much upon Forrest's assistance in the fulfilment of my vow; but that was only a secondary consideration now. I had grown to like him so much, that the idea that he had met with any mischance knocked me over completely. I went into my study and threw myself moodily into a chair. My man brought me in some whisky, and hovered about until I told him to go.
"You were going to dine at Mr. Winter's to-night, sir, with Mr. Forrest," he reminded me.
The engagement had completely passed from my memory.
"I shall be unable to go, Wilson," I said.
"They haven't found Mr. Forrest, then, sir?" said the man respectfully. He was simply brimming over with curiosity.
"No. I'm afraid we shall never see him alive again," I groaned.
"Dear me! Not so bad as that, I hope, sir," he responded sympathetically, as he still lingered.
"Not half so bad as that, Wilson," remarked a cheery voice just outside the door.
My man started, and I jumped to my feet with a shout of welcome.
"Forrest! Forrest!" I cried. "Come along in, man."
"Well, if I may?" replied Forrest's voice.
"If you may!" I answered. "Why—what the——!"
My astonishment at the appearance he presented as he entered the room choked my further utterance.
The man who entered was a veritable scarecrow. A man with a torn coat and rent trowsers, and a battered hat which barely held together upon his head. He was covered from head to foot with mud. His face was dirty, unshaven, disreputable.
"Forrest? Is it indeed you?" I could not but ask, when my speech returned to me.
"I don't ask you to recognize me until I have had a bath and a shave," he replied. "But when I have sacrificed to Hygeia, I expect to be presentable enough to dine with Mr. Winter to-night. I've been wondering all day whether I should manage to get here in time. Meanwhile, the least spot of whisky——"
I could not express my delight at his return, and unthinkingly I poured out nearly a tumbler of the neat spirit, and felt almost hurt when he returned all but one finger to the decanter.
"If you give me a dose like that, I shall certainly be unable to accompany you," he said.
I could curb my curiosity no longer. I burst out with a string of questions.
"Where have you been? What has happened to you? Why did you disappear? How——"
He stopped me. "So that's why you gave me all that whisky. You wanted to make me talk, eh?"
I laughingly disassociated myself from any such intention, and, putting the curb on my curiosity, I turned him over to Wilson to be valeted out of the semblance to a tramp.
The process took some time, and when he came downstairs in irreproachable evening clothes, there was no time for him to give me the history of his adventures unless we were to miss our dinner.
"And that," declared Forrest, "I absolutely refuse to do; for, with the exception of sixpenny worth of rum and a crust of bread and cheese, nothing has passed my lips since dinner last night."
"Then you will be glad to hear that the Winters are punctual people," I remarked as we at once set out for my neighbour's house.
"I suppose," he said, as we reached our destination, "I may count upon you not referring to the plight in which I returned to your place? I should not care for it to get abroad that the Pirate had got the better of me on the first occasion of our meeting."
"Then you have seen him?" I cried eagerly.
"Seen him!" Forrest ejaculated in reply. "Seen him! After dinner you shall have a full, true and particular account of all that's happened. Until then—well, assume you know everything but are not at liberty to divulge anything."
I was as much at home in Winter's house as in my own, so I did not trouble to ring and Forrest followed me in. I had forgotten that his appearance was likely to create as great a sensation there as it had caused me. I entered the drawing-room first, Forrest being a little behind. Mrs. Winter, a fluffy-haired little woman with blue baby eyes, baby lips, and a most engaging little baby dimple, was the centre of the party gathered there. The other women were Miss Maitland and Mrs. Winter's twin sister, who reproduced the hair, lips, eyes and dimple with such exactness that it was always a puzzle to me how Winter had managed to make up his mind between them. About them were gathered Colonel Maitland, Mannering, Winter himself, and another man whom he had brought down with him from town that day. The subject of conversation, I learned afterwards, had been entirely devoted to Forrest's disappearance, and when they caught sight of him the effect was electrical. The ladies all jumped to their feet, the twin sisters screamed in unison, the men stood stock still. Mannering appeared to be the most astonished, for he turned pale and his lips became livid. Before any one could say a word, however, the door opened again and the butler announced dinner in an impassive voice, which sent everybody into convulsions of laughter.
We filed into dinner a particularly merry party. Mrs. Winter had arranged for me to take in Miss Maitland, and the fact that Mannering obviously resented the arrangement added a great deal to my good humour. The fact of Forrest being the lion of the evening did not disturb me at all. Indeed I was glad some one else had to parry the numberless questions put to him respecting his disappearance.
He fenced them remarkably well, though of course, when cornered, he could always fall back upon the excuse of his mouth being closed by the official pledge of secrecy.
Needless to say, only one topic was mooted, and I should not have referred to it had not the man whom Winter had brought from town said something which, I found afterwards, had some bearing on future events. This person was a diamond merchant in his business hours, and after the ladies had left us, he expressed the opinion that it was a good thing the Motor Pirate confined his attentions to fellow motorists.
"If, for instance," he remarked, "he were to take it into his head to hold up the Brighton Parcels Mail to-morrow night, he would make one of the best-known firms in Hatton Garden feel very sick."
"How's that?" asked Mannering, carelessly. He had quite recovered from the temporary shock which Forrest's unexpected appearance had occasioned him.
"Well, I heard they are sending off a particularly valuable collection of stones by registered parcel post to-morrow," he answered.
"Seems a silly thing to do," commented Winter.
"I don't know about that," was the reply. "Their theory is that the chances of robbery are infinitely less than by any other method of forwarding. They have followed the practice for years, and hitherto have never made a loss. You see, no one knows anything about it except the principal, who takes the packet to the post office. He registers it at St. Martin's, and the packet is immediately placed amongst a number of parcels of all sorts, shapes and sizes; and the chance of a casual thief selecting that particular parcel, even if he had the chance, are at least a hundred to one, while it is well known that the postal employee who steals always lets the registered letter severely alone."
The subject was not pursued further, and soon after we joined the ladies. The party broke up early, and I was not sorry, for I could see Forrest was tired and I wanted to get his story from him before he turned in. But when we were back in my snuggery, I found that he considered it necessary to report himself at St. Albans. I was on the telephone, so I suggested its use, and he jumped at the idea. After some little difficulty we managed to get a message through to the police-station. Then settling down into an easy chair with a great sigh of content, he reeled out an account of his adventures.