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Body Unidentified ^
BY JOHN RHODE
Author of
"DR. PRIESTLEY INVESTIGATES,"
"DEATH SITS ON THE BOARD,"
etc.
Mr. Wedgwood was puzzled. It was odd, he thought, as he
looked from his bedroom window, that someone should leave
a large closed car in the middle of his front yard, but what
confused him even more was the shimmering brilliance it
seemed to assume as the sun rose higher. Suddenly the un-
pleasant truth burst upon him with a shock. It was not a car
at all. It was a hearse!
Jimmy Waghorn first followed the grisly trail from the
abandoned hearse to the "thing" in the tar boiler, and as
luck would have it, on that same day Inspector Hanslet
finally stumbled on a really substantial clue to the Patton
jewel robbery. But only after Dr. Priestley made his seem-
ingly enigmatic suggestion did it occur to either one that the
two crimes could possibly be related.
An exciting book! John Rhode with his usual ingenuity
and scrupulous care has worked two apparently diverse
crimes into a fascinating pattern of mystery and intrigue.


THE RED BADGE BULLETIN
A quarterly Bulletin giving current and advance
information about Red Badge books, publishing
communications from authors and readers, discuss-
ing trends and conducting interesting puzzles and
competitions, is issued quarterly. It is intended for
"the enlightenment and enjoyment of mystery and
detective story connoisseurs" and will be sent free
of charge upon request.
Would You Like to Know
how RED BADGE books are selected?
Each year, hundreds of detective-story manu-
scripts are submitted to the literary editors of
Dodd, Mead and Company. From these only a
very small number receive the coveted Red Badge
imprint. This is because every detective story that
carries the Red Badge must first pass a rigid eight-
point test—so severe that all but absolutely first-
class mysteries are eliminated.
If you would like to receive this eight-point test,
we will be glad to mail you a copy without charge.
Dodd, Mead & Company, Inc.
Department R B
449 Fourth Avenue, New York


Street, Cecil John Charles
A Dr. Priestley Detective Story
BY
JOHN RHODE
BODY
UNIDENTIFIED
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
NEW YORK
1938


***********************
PROLOGUE
"THINGS HAPPEN LIKE THAT," SAID SUPERINTENDENT HANS-
let. “There are times at the Yard when things are as dull as
ditchwater. For weeks on end we may spend our days, and
our nights, too, for that matter, over the most trivial matters.
And then suddenly, as happened the other day, two really
important cases are thrust upon us at once.”
It was ten o'clock on the evening of Saturday, August
22nd. The Superintendent had been invited to dine with his
friend Dr. Priestley, that uncompromising scientist, who
combined an interest in criminology with an unsparing devo-
tion to pure mathematics, at the latter's house in Westbourne
Terrace. Dinner being over, the party had adjourned to Dr.
Priestley's study. There were present Dr. Priestley himself,
his secretary, Harold Merefield, his friend, Dr. Oldland, a
general practitioner with an extensive practice in Kensington,
and the Superintendent.
Oldland laid down his glass of whisky and soda and re-
plied to Hanslet's observation. “I wonder what exactly you
define as triviality, superintendent?”.
Hanslet shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, all the things which
are only crimes because some regulation or other makes them
so,” he replied. “You'd be horrified if you knew the amount
of time that's wasted investigating alleged breaches of the
Licensing Laws, or the Gambling Act, or the Shop Hours
Rule or any one of half a dozen similar technical offences.


2
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
The people who pass these silly laws never stop to think of
the expense involved in enforcing them or trying to enforce
them. However, it isn't for me to complain, I suppose. But
I must say that it comes as a positive relief sometimes when
a real crime is reported to us. One feels that one's labour isn't
altogether wasted."
"But two major cases at once must be a bit overwhelm-
ing," Oldland suggested.
"I don't mind as long as I have somebody that I can de-
pend upon to help me," Hanslet replied. "And I'm bound to
confess that things have been a lot easier since young Jimmy
Waghorn has been with me. He's got his head screwed on
straight and I can trust him to look after a job while I'm
otherwise engaged."
"This is the first time that he has been entrusted with the
entire responsibility for what Oldland has called a major
case, is it not?" Dr. Priestley remarked.
"That's right, professor," Hanslet replied. "Of course, if
the other matter hadn't cropped up at the same time I should
have taken on the Fallowchurch business myself with Jimmy
to help me. But as I've told you, I'd scarcely put down the
telephone on Thursday when the chief sent for me. And
when I got to his room I found that Sir Stanislaus Wherwell
had rung up, and I had to listen to the yarn about the dia-
monds. The chief told me that I had better take on that
business myself and send Jimmy down to Fallowchurch."
"Inspector Waghorn has proved worthy of your trust, I
gather," Dr. Priestley remarked.
"Oh, he's done very well, professor," Hanslet replied with
a touch of condescension. "But then, you see, the matter
turned out to be not so puzzling as it seemed at first sight.
It was a perfectly clear case of murder, with robbery as the
motive. And there's no doubt whatever as to the identity of


PROLOGUE
3
the murderer. Jimmy has a full description both of him and
of his car. It can only be a matter of a day or two before he
runs him to earth. He's busy on the job now, and that's why
he couldn't accept your invitation to come here with me
to-night."
"I fully appreciate the reason for the inspector's inability
to accept my invitation," said Dr. Priestley. "I am very glad
that the case upon which you are yourself engaged did not
hinder you from coming."
Hanslet laughed. "Oh, I've got a breathing space for a
moment," he replied. "I'm waiting for news from the Con-
tinent. In some ways my case is not unlike Jimmy's, though
it concerns a robbery and not a murder. I know who stole
the Wherwell diamonds—the name is spelt Wherwell, but
pronounced Hurrel, by the way—just as Jimmy knows who
murdered Alfred Pantony. And in my case, as in his, I'm
bound to catch my man before very long."
"You know the origin of the Wherwell diamonds, I sup-
pose?" Oldland asked.
"I heard Sir Stanislaus tell the story, but I didn't quite
follow the details," Hanslet replied. "From what I can make
out, they were brought back from Russia by his great-great-
grandfather, about a hundred and thirty years ago."
Oldland nodded. "That's right," he said. "I've heard my
father talk about them often enough. He knew the Wherwell
family in the old days."
"Under what circumstances were the diamonds brought
back from Russia?" Dr. Priestley asked.
"Well, the story as I've heard my father tell it is this,"
Oldland replied. "This man's great-great-grandfather was
Sir James Wherwell. He had interests in Eastern Europe and
married a Polish woman, just before the Third Partition of
1795. King Stanislaus of Poland stood godfather to their


4
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
eldest son, who was naturally named after his royal sponsor.
The Christian name Stanislaus has remained in the family
ever since.
"Sir James and his wife appear to have been born in-
triguers, though I don't suppose that anything definite is
known of their activities. Anyhow, after the Partition, they
managed to insinuate themselves into the good graces of
Prince Alexander. And, at about the same time, Sir James
seems to have been entrusted with a sort of semi-diplomatic
mission by the British Government. They were certainly in
St. Petersburg on the night of the Emperor Paul's assassina-
tion in 1801, and it has been whispered that they had had a
hand in the preliminaries of that affair. Anyhow, some
months later they returned to England, and Lady Wherwell
was seen wearing a set of diamonds which was pronounced
to be the finest in Europe. Where she got them from remains
something of a mystery. Sir Stanislaus did not enlighten you
on that point, I suppose, superintendent?"
"He said that they had been presented to his family by one
of the Emperors of Russia," Hanslet replied.
"Is it not an established fact that the Emperor Paul was
insane for some years before his death?" Dr. Priestley re-
marked dryly.
Oldland laughed. "I dare say that, as usual, you've hit the
nail on the head, Priestley," he said. "But I fancy that if
Paul had given Lady Wherwell the diamonds in a moment of
infatuation, Alexander I would have managed to get them
back again somehow after his father's death. However, I
don't suppose the superintendent is very much interested in
that ancient history. He is more anxious to know where they
are now."
"They're on the Continent somewhere, there's no doubt
bout that," said Hanslet confidently. "And as things are,


6
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
by the criminal on the one hand, and the police on the other.
And, listening to the superintendent this evening, I fail to
recognize the slightest display of skill on either hand."
"Oh, I don't know, Priestley," Oldland objected. "His
criminals appeared to have bungled things pretty badly, I
admit. But both he and Jimmy Waghorn have been pretty
smart in getting on to their tracks so quickly."
"I'm afraid I don't agree with you," replied Dr. Priestley
testily. "The only facts which they have ascertained would
have been immediately apparent to any intelligent child."
"Well, you can't expect one of your favourite problems
every day, Priestley," said Oldland soothingly. "I know that
it is only when Hanslet has to confess himself beaten that
you take any interest in his affairs. Perhaps he'll come along
in a week or two with a teaser which will appeal to you. By
jove, it's getting late. It's time I finished my drink and said
good-night."


Part One
Jimmy's Case


■
1
-
-


***********************
THE GREEN BEAR AT FALLOWCHURCH IS A FINE OLD TIMBERED
building, with a wide, open space for a "pull in" in front of
it. Fallowchurch is a fair-sized village standing a few miles
off the direct road from London to Folkestone.
Mr. Sidney Wedgwood, the manager of the Green Bear,
was a man of regular habits. He and Mrs. Wedgwood had
been tenants of the house for fifteen years, and during the
whole of that period their daily routine had never varied.
This routine began with Mr. Wedgwood invariably awaken-
ing shortly before sunrise and ended with his retirement to
bed directly after supper between eleven o'clock and half-
past.
When Mr. Wedgwood opened his eyes on Thursday, Au-
gust 20th, a faint light filled the bedroom occupied by himself
and Mrs. Wedgwood. He felt for the watch which he always
placed under his pillow at night, found it and held it so that
the most favourable light from the window fell upon its
hands. These pointed to exactly half-past five.
It was not often that Mr. Wedgwood actually got out of
bed before six o'clock. He would lie there very quietly so as
not to disturb Mrs. Wedgwood, and concentrate on the de-
tails of his business. The brewer's order, for instance, always
took a lot of consideration. Especially in summer, when the
beer was apt to go off if it stood too long. One had to make a
pretty close estimate of one's requirements. It would never
9


10
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do to order too little, and so run the risk of being short at
the end of the week. On the other hand, ordering too much
meant that the stuff remained in the cellar longer than was
advisable. It was upon problems like these that Mr. Wedg-
wood's not very rapid thoughts ruminated during his first
waking minutes.
But on this particular morning, no sooner was Mr. Wedg-
wood awake than he resolved upon physical rather than men-
tal activities. At the back of the Green Bear was an extensive
kitchen garden which Mr. Wedgwood cultivated with care
and success. He had at this time a magnificent crop of runner
beans, and on the previous day one of his customers had
asked him to sell him half a bushel of these. Mr. Wedgwood
had agreed to do so, and every one knew that runner beans
were best picked in the early morning. Here was the very
opportunity, before the regular routine of the house began
at six o'clock.
So Mr. Wedgwood slipped carefully out of bed, being care-
ful not to disturb his sleeping wife. He tip-toed on his bare
feet to the window, drew the curtains aside and looked out.
He was greeted by a fine still morning which gave promise
of a hot day later on.
Having surveyed the heavens, Mr. Wedgwood's gaze fell
to earth. The window at which he stood was set in the front
of the house and looked out over the open gravel space be-
tween it and the road. And in the centre of this space stood
what Mr. Wedgwood took at first to be a large closed car.
Well, there was nothing surprising about that. It some-
times happened that people left their cars for the night in
front of the Green Bear, instead of seeking the hospitality
of Quain's Garage, a little farther down the road, especially
if they arrived in the village late at night, for Mr. Quain was
very deaf and once in bed was impossible to arouse.


JIMMY'S CASE
11
But just as Mr. Wedgwood was about to turn away from
the window, the eastern horizon began to glow with a pinkish
light. Instantly the car seemed to appropriate to itself an
undue share of this light, and to shimmer all over with un-
expected brilliance.
The phenomenon was sufficiently marked to attract Mr.
Wedgwood's attention. Once again he glanced at the car, to
discover with surprise that its sides were panelled with glass.
And then, with an unpleasant shock, the truth burst upon
him. It was not a car at all. It was a motor hearse.
Now, Mr. Wedgwood, like many another stalwart publi-
can, was profoundly superstitious. If he came upon a ladder
bridging the pavement he would step into the roadway rather
than walk under it. Not many years before, he had pulled
the kitchen range to pieces in search of a death-watch beetle,
which he believed to be concealed behind it. And if any of
his customers, eating their bread and cheese in the bar at
dinner-time, happened to spill a particle of salt upon the
floor, he immediately produced a dust-pan and brush and
swept it up.
So that now, staring wide-eyed at the hearse, he experi-
enced a sensation of profound discomfort. He had no idea
what misfortune the ominous machine might portend. But if
it were unlucky to see a magpie first thing in the morning it
must certainly be trebly so to see a hearse. With a shudder he
turned away from the window and drew the curtains to hide
the evil vision from his eyes.
But as he sat down to pull on his socks, his forebodings
gave place to a righteous anger. People had no business to
leave hearses on other people's property like that. Likely
enough the chap who had been driving it was asleep some-
where inside it. As Mr. Wedgwood pulled on his trousers, he
decided that he'd go and wake him and give him a piece of


12
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
his mind.
Burning with indignation, he thrust on his waistcoat and
coat and then crept downstairs to the kitchen. Here he pulled
on his boots and, without troubling to lace them, went to the
front door and opened it. As he did so, a voice from the road
hailed him.
"Morning, Sidney. Lovely morning, isn't it?"
Mr. Wedgwood recognized the figure on the passing bi-
cycle. It was David Gurney, the foreman of the road-men
who were tarring the road between Fallowchurch and Dim-
bury.
"Morning, David," he replied. "We're going to have a
scorcher later on, you can see."
"Seems like it," said David, as he passed on in the direc-
tion of Dimbury, leaving Mr. Wedgwood free to turn his
attention to the hearse.
Seen from the window, it had a sufficiently ominous ap-
pearance, but now, viewing it close at hand, Mr. Wedgwood
got a still greater shock. For the hearse was not empty as he
had supposed. It contained a plain and somewhat discoloured
elm coffin.
This was more than Mr. Wedgwood could stand. He
turned back into the bar, poured himself out a stiff tot of
whisky and drank it down neat. The warm glow of the spirit
gave him courage to continue his investigations.
He went outside again and walked round the hearse, keep-
ing at a respectful distance from it. There was no sign of any
one in it. No living person, that is. But the coffin suggested
sinister possibilities. Coffins, as Mr. Wedgwood reflected,
are used for one purpose and one alone.
He walked out into the road and looked anxiously up and
down it. David and his bicycle had disappeared and there
was nobody else in sight. It was barely six o'clock yet, and


JIMMY'S CASE
13
the only wakeful creatures in the village were the cocks who
were crowing lustily.
Mr. Wedgwood glanced furtively at the hearse over his
shoulder. He couldn't bear the thought of Mrs. Wedgwood
waking up and seeing it standing there. It would give her a
turn that she wouldn't get over for days. It must be removed
without delay. But how?
This question puzzled him for a minute or more. Then his
face suddenly lighted up with a bright idea. It was a matter
for Sergeant Playne.
He set off briskly and reached the sergeant's house, which
was at the farther end of the village, within a few minutes.
As he knocked on the door, the church clock struck six. A
few seconds later, a window above his head was flung open,
and the sergeant's head appeared.
"Well, what's all the racket about?" a surly voice de-
manded.
Mr. Wedgwood looked up, and Playne recognized him.
. "Why, landlord!" he continued more affably. "What are you
doing rousing folks out of their beds at this time in the morn-
ing?"
"Sorry to disturb you, sergeant," replied Mr. Wedgwood
apologetically. "But I'd like you to come round to my place
at once if you don't mind."
"What's the matter?" Playne demanded abruptly. "Some-
body broken in and pinched the till?"
"No, nobody's broken in," said Mr. Wedgwood. "But
somebody's gone and left a coffin standing outside my door."
"Left a what!" exclaimed Playne incredulously.
"A coffin. Leastways, it's a motor hearse, with a coffin in it.
And what may be inside the coffin is more than I can tell."
Playne chuckled to himself. He was well aware of Mr.
Wedgwood's superstitions, which were indeed notorious. And


14 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
he could imagine what a shock the discovery must have given
him. But after all, the matter seemed to call for no active
intervention on the part of the police.
"I shouldn't worry about it if I were you, landlord," he
said soothingly. "The driver of the hearse isn't far away, you
may be sure. I expect he found himself running out of petrol
in the night and left the thing in your pull-in, as being the
first convenient place he came to. I dare say he's gone along
to try and wake Quain down at the garage. You'll see him
come back with a tin of petrol pretty soon, and as soon as
he's filled up, he'll drive away."
Mr. Wedgwood seemed hardly reassured. "And what if he
doesn't, sergeant?" he replied. "I can't have that thing stand-
ing in front of my house all the morning."
"Afraid it might keep custom away, I suppose? Well, I'll
tell you what I'll do. I'll get up and make myself a cup of tea,
and then, after I've finished one or two things, I'll stroll up
to your place. And if the hearse hasn't gone then I'll take a
few particulars. How will that suit you?"
"It's very good of you, sergeant, I'm sure," replied Mr.
Wedgwood gratefully. "I never could abide coffins and
such."
Mr. Wedgwood might have lingered, but the sergeant's
face disappeared and the window closed with a bang of
finality. There was nothing left for Mr. Wedgwood but to
return to the Green Bear. The hearse still stood outside the
front door, looking more sombre than ever in the growing
light of morning. Mr. Wedgwood averted his eyes from it
and shuddered.
He entered the house, shut the door behind him and locked
it. Then he lighted the gas and put the kettle on the ring.
It was his invariable habit to make a cup of tea for Mrs.
Wedgwood and himself at this time in the morning.


JIMMY'S CASE
15
But, as he busied himself with the teapot, he remained alert
for any sound from without. It was quite likely that the ser-
geant was right, but Mr. Wedgwood had no intention of let-
ting the driver get away with it so easily as all that. He'd
have something to say to him first. He'd tell him what he
thought about a chap who left coffins lying around to scare
decent folks out of their wits. When Mr. Wedgwood was
sufficiently aroused his vocabulary became mordant and ex-
tensive. While the water boiled he mentally framed sentences
calculated to sting the most hardened.
Having made the tea and stirred the pot vigorously with
a spoon, he carried a cup upstairs. He found Mrs. Wedgwood
still asleep, and awakened her by laying a heavy hand upon
her shoulder. "Wake up, mother," he said. "Here's your tea
all waiting for you."
This was his usual formula. But there must have been an
unfamiliar note in his voice, for Mrs. Wedgwood, half-asleep
as she was, detected at once that all was not well with her
husband.
"Why, whatever's wrong with you this morning, Sidney?"
she demanded. "If it's your stomach, you'd better take one
of those tablets the doctor gave you last year. You'll find
them on the mantelpiece in the kitchen."
"It isn't my stomach," replied Mr. Wedgwood gloomily.
And then in a desperate attempt to break the news as gently
as possible, he added, "I've just been along the road to see
the sergeant."
Mrs. Wedgwood, now thoroughly awake, sat up abruptly.
She was a big woman with a jolly face and a deep voice,
which even the most turbulent customer instinctively re-
spected. She stared at her husband suspiciously. "Been down
the road to see the sergeant?" she exclaimed. "Whatever
for?"


16 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
But her sudden movement had alarmed her husband. He
hastily placed himself between the bed and the window. "Now
don't you go looking out on to the front," he said.
"It's my belief that you've taken leave of your senses this
morning, Sidney," she said with an air of decision. "Now,
just you pull yourself together, and tell me what all this is
about."
Mr. Wedgwood lowered his voice as he imparted the
macabre tidings. "There's one of them motor hearses stand-
ing outside the door," he said sepulchrally. "And what's
more, there's a coffin in it. And what's inside the coffin you
can guess as well as I can."
"God bless my soul!" exclaimed Mrs. Wedgwood in a tone
of relief. "I thought you were going to tell me that there's
been a terrible accident, at least. What's a hearse, or a coffin
for that matter, to make all that fuss about? Now, you go
along downstairs and sweep out the bar while I put my
things on."
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you before you looked out,"
said Mr. Wedgwood sulkily.
He went slowly downstairs, feeling distinctly aggrieved.
Nobody but himself appeared to appreciate the ominous por-
tent. Well, they might say what they liked. He, for his own
part, felt in his bones that no good would come of it.
He set to work to sweep out the bar, not because his wife
had told him to, but because it was his invariable practice at
this time in the morning. But in spite of himself, his glance
kept straying to the window. The hearse was still there, its
glass-panelled sides shining brightly in the risen sun. A spar-
row had alighted on its roof and was chirping noisily.
The hearse seemed to have an uncanny fascination for
Mr. Wedgwood. Do what he would, he could not keep his
eyes away from it. It was as though he expected some hair-


JIMMY'S CASE
.17
raising drama to unfold itself. As if at any moment the coffin
li<f: might raise itself and the shrouded head of a corpse be
thrust out. Mr. Wedgwood shivered and poured himself out
another tot of whisky.
The consumption of this dispelled these hideous fancies.
But still the hearse absorbed his attention. In the end he
abandoned his sweeping and, leaning against the door-post,
stared gloomily at the object of his resentment.
In the course of this prolonged inspection he perceived
that the hearse was by no means new. One of the glass panels
was cracked and only kept in place by strips of sticking plas-
ter. The paint-work, which had once been uniformly black,
now showed ugly patches of rust. The bonnet was crooked,
the wings were dented, the tyres showed the canvas beneath
their tread. Altogether the abandoned vehicle seemed to Mr.
Wedgwood too dilapidated even for the purposes of a pau-
per's funeral. The very coffin inside it, as he noted with a
shudder, looked second-hand.
The sound of his wife's footsteps as she came downstairs
aroused Mr. Wedgwood from his contemplation. He seized
his broom once more and began bustling about the bar with
an appearance of intense energy. But this sudden activity
did not deceive Mrs. Wedgwood.
"Why can't you leave that old hearse alone, and get on
with your work?" she demanded. "What a man you are to let
a thing like that get on your nerves. You run along to the
back and chop me some wood for the copper fire. By the
time you've finished, some one will have come along and
driven the old thing away. You see if they haven't."
But her comforting prediction was not verified. The hearse
continued to stand outside the Green Bear, casting its sombre
shadow on at least one of the inmates of the house. And it
was not until half-past seven, when Mrs. Wedgwood was


18
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
frying bacon for breakfast, that Sergeant Playne appeared in
fulfilment of his promise.
Mr. Wedgwood, who had secretly been on the look out
for him for the last hour, went out to meet him. The sergeant,
with that dignity of movement peculiar to policemen, dis-
mounted from his bicycle. "Well, landlord," he said cheer-
fully, "you haven't got rid of this hearse of yours yet, then?"
"No," replied Mr. Wedgwood morosely. "What am I go-
ing to do about it? I can't have it standing about here all
day, sergeant."
"Let's have a look at it," said Playne. "It's seen its best
days, that's a certainty. A coat of paint wouldn't do it any
harm, either. I shouldn't wonder if somebody hadn't dumped
it here to get rid of it."
The number-plates were obscured with rust and Playne
had to rub them over with a cloth borrowed from Mr. Wedg-
wood before he could read them.
"ZZ 542," he said. "I'll just make a note of that in case
any inquiries are made. Now let's look at the licence."
The licence, which bore the stamp of the Berkshire County
Council, showed that a black hearse No. ZZ 542, had paid
tax until the end of the current year. "Nothing wrong about
that," commented Playne. "As I said just now, I expect the
chap in charge of it ran out of petrol or had a breakdown of
some kind. I'll just unscrew the lid of the tank."
But the tank upon inspection proved to be far from dry.
"There's a gallon there, at least," said the sergeant. "That
can't have been the trouble, then. Well, I'm sorry, landlord,
but I can't do anything about it. This pull-in of yours is
private property, and you've always allowed people to park
their cars upon it."
"Cars, but not hearses," said Mr. Wedgwood firmly. "And
what about the coffin inside it? That's what I want to know."


JIMMY'S CASE
19
"Oh, that's empty, of course," the sergeant replied. "No-
body would leave a body unattended like that, even in a pri-
vate parking place. Hallo, who's this coming along the road?
He seems to be in a tearing hurry, whoever he is."
A cyclist was approaching from the direction of Dimbury,
pedalling as though for dear life. His head was bent down
low over his handle-bars and it was not until he was nearly
abreast of them that Mr. Wedgwood recognized him.
"Why, it's Dave Gurney," he exclaimed. "Whatever can
have come over him? I never saw him ride like that before."
Gurney, hearing the landlord's voice, looked up. Then,
catching sight of Sergeant Playne, he applied his brakes
sharply.
"Ah, there you are, sergeant!" he exclaimed, as he half fell
off his bicycle. "It's you I'm looking for. There's something
terrible happened way back along the road where we're tar-
ring."
"Accident?" demanded the sergeant sharply. "Cars in
collision, I suppose. Anybody hurt?"
Dave shook his head. "No, there's been no collision," he
said. "But somebody's been and fallen into my tar boiler."
"Fallen into your tar boiler!" exclaimed Playne. "How
did he manage to do that? Is he badly hurt?"
"I dunno, for he's still in there," replied Dave. "The chaps
don't come along till eight o'clock, and I couldn't get him
out by myself, could I? That's why I came along to see you."
The sergeant was a man of quick decision in emergency.
He turned to Mr. Wedgwood. "You run along to Dr. Mens-
lowe," he said. "Tell him that somebody's fallen into a tar
boiler on the Dimbury road, and that he'd better come along
as soon as he can. I'll go to the place with Gurney here and
wait till the doctor comes."
The sergeant, pedalling along the Dimbury road in Gur-
■


20
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
ney's wake, had no breath to spare for asking questions. This
particular stretch of highway, though in no sense a main
road, was in excellent condition. It wound in a series of fairly
sharp turns through a prosperous agricultural country. A few
isolated cottages and farmhouses were scattered along it, but
there were no villages between Fallowchurch and Dimbury, a
distance of four and a half miles. A solitary inn, suitably
named The Halfway House, stood, as its name implied,
roughly equidistant between Dimbury and Fallowchurch.
As they neared the second milestone from Fallowchurch,
Gurney slackened his pace. A red notice-board was propped
up beside the road, bearing the words: "Tarring in Prog-
ress. Proceed with Caution." A few yards farther on, the
newly-gritted surface of the road showed where the opera-
tion was proceeding. And here, drawn up on the grass by the
side of the road, was a black pot-bellied object on wheels,
with an iron chimney. The sergeant recognized this as one of
the tar boilers belonging to the county council.
Gurney dismounted from his bicycle and Playne followed
his example. The foreman of the roadmen approached and
with obvious repugnance swung back the lid.
"There you are, sergeant," he said, "you have a look for
yourself. It isn't so terrible hot now, for I drew the fire afore
I came along to fetch you."
Playne stood upon one of the wheels of the tar boiler, from
which point of vantage he could look into the interior. For a
second or two he could perceive nothing but blackness and a
reek of hot tar. Then he made out something vague and un-
defined floating on the surface of the viscous liquid. As his
eyes recovered from the smart of the tar vapour, this object
took upon itself the shape of a human body.
The sergeant jumped hastily off the wheel. "We've got to
get him out somehow, though I'm blest if I see how we're


JIMMY'S CASE
21
going to do it," he exclaimed. "I've got it; there's a tap at the
bottom of this concern to run the tar off by, isn't there? Look
sharp and get it open."
But Dave shook his head doubtfully. "I'm not so sure
about that," he said. "What's the surveyor going to say to
me when he hears that I've wasted three or four barrels of
good tar? Likely as not he'd stop it out of my wages."
"Oh, I'll make it all right with the surveyor," said Playne
impatiently. "Come on, look sharp and get that tap
turned on."
Gurney, muttering something about it being no affair of
his, turned the tap from which a black stream immediately
issued, forming a pool upon the ground. It was evident that
it would take several minutes to empty the boiler, and
Playne produced his notebook.
"Now then, Gurney, tell me all you know about this," he
said.
"I don't know nothing about it," replied Gurney sullenly.
"All I can say is that I came along here at my usual time,
between half-past five and six. Sidney Wedgwood can bear
me out in that, for he was standing at the door of the Green
Bear and saw me go past."
"You start earlier than the men of your gang, then?" the
sergeant asked.
"Why, of course, I do. That's only natural, isn't it? Some-
body's got to get the fire started so that the tar will be boiling
by the time the men come to work, haven't they?"
"I see," said Playne. "You got here between half-past five
and six, this morning. What did you do then?"
"Why, got out the sticks and coal from that sack you see
lying yonder. Then I went to the fire door to open it and
rake out the ashes. And it was a funny thing, but the fire
hadn't burnt right out. The tar in the boiler was well nigh


22
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
hot enough to work and I've never known that happen be-
fore."
"You don't rake out the fire in the evenings when you
finish work, then?"
"Well, sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. Yesterday
evening I didn't. It hardly seemed worth while. It had pretty
well burnt itself out by the time we knocked off. That's why
I can't understand how it still came to be alight this morn-
ing."
"What did you do when you found that the fire was still
burning?"
"Well, just chucked in a few lumps of coal. It saved me the
trouble of lighting it all over again. And then I sat down to
drink the flask of tea what I'd brought with me."
"You didn't lift the lid of the boiler and look inside?"
"Not me. What should I do that for? We had emptied a
couple of barrels of tar into it just before we knocked off
yesterday evening. I knew there was plenty in there to start
work this morning."
"How did you find out that there was somebody in it,
then?" Playne asked.
"It was like this. As the fire began to get hold, I saw that
everything wasn't right with the old boiler. She began to
splutter and crackle and I knew that something had got in
along with the tar. A cupful of water will do that, and it's a
terrible job to get it out sometimes. But there hadn't been
any rain in the night, so I knew it couldn't be that. So I left
it alone for a bit, thinking it would settle down, but it didn't.
At last I says to myself, I'll lift that lid and take a peep in-
side to see what's the matter. And then when I got poking
about with a piece of stick, I found that there poor chap."
"He didn't show any signs of life, I suppose?"
"You wouldn't show much signs of life, sergeant, if you'd


JIMMY'S CASE
23
been all that time in a lot of hot tar. So I let go the lid and
drew the fire, and came along to fetch you. I did quite right,
didn't I?"
"Yes, you did right enough," said Playne thoughtfully. He
made a few rapid entries in his notebook and then looked up
as he heard the sound of an approaching car. "That'll be Dr.
Menslowe," he said. "He's too late to do any good, I'm afraid,
but he may be able to tell us something. You stay here, Gur-
ney, I'll go and meet him and tell him what's the matter."
In a few hurried words, Playne informed the doctor of
what had happened. Then the two of them rejoined Gurney
beside the tar boiler. The black stream from the emptying
tank had dwindled to a mere trickle. The sergeant opened the
lid and glanced in.
"Come along and bear a hand, Gurney," he said.
"There's one or two of the chaps coming along the road
now," Gurney replied. "The more of us there are the easier
the job will be."
This seemed sensible enough. Three men on bicycles, the
first arrivals of the tarring gang, appeared on the scene.
Gurney, in a halting whisper, explained the circumstances to
them. For a few seconds, the group stood round the boiler
looking at it distrustfully, wondering how the body was to
be extricated.
"I've got it," exclaimed Dr. Menslowe suddenly. "There
are enough of us here to tip the confounded thing over on its
side. Then we can roll the body out, instead of having to
fish for it."
Gurney seemed inclined to oppose this idea. Such disre-
spectful treatment of the council's property was contrary to
all his instincts. But a look from the sergeant silenced him.
By dint of their united efforts, the tar boiler was heaved over
till it lay on its side on the ground. The removal of the body


24
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
then proved to be an easy task.
Dr. Menslowe bent over it and the sergeant turned to
Gurney.
"Dix, the landlord of the Halfway House, has got a hand-
cart," he said. "Send a couple of your men along there and
ask him if we may borrow it. He's got plenty of room in
those outhouses of his and he'll be able to find us somewhere
to put this body for a while. You will have to knock off your
tarring for the day, I'm afraid. The best thing you can do is
to slip back to Fallowchurch and get on to the surveyor by
'phone. You can tell him that you're acting under orders from
the police, if you like."
Gurney grumbled audibly at the receipt of these instruc-
tions. Clearly he resented the interruption of his work by
such a trifle as the chance discovery of a body. However, he
sent his men off in the direction of the Halfway House and
himself mounted his bicycle and pedalled off towards Fallow-
church.
After an interval Dr. Menslowe straightened himself. "The
man's quite dead, of course," he said. "And what's more, the
body is utterly unrecognizable. The hot tar has burnt away
the features almost completely. I heard you say you'd have
him taken to the Halfway House. When you've got him there
I'll try to get as much of the tar off him as I can. But I warn
you that you're going to find identification a very difficult
matter indeed. Unless, of course you've already got some
idea who it is."
Playne shook his head. "I haven't the slightest idea who
he is, or how he got into the tar boiler, doctor," he replied.
"Isn't there any way of telling whether he was dead or alive
at the time?"
"There may be," said the doctpr doubtfully. "I wouldn't
count on that, though, if I were you. And, under the cir-


JIMMY'S CASE
25
cumstances, it's not a bit of good asking me how long he has
been dead. I don't think anybody could possibly tell you
that. You'll take the necessary steps, I suppose?"
"You can leave that to me, doctor," the sergeant replied.
"As soon as we get his body safely to the Halfway House I'll
go back to Fallowchurch and send one of my men here to
keep any one from messing with the boiler. Then I'll get on
to the super and make my report. You will notify the cor-
oner, I dare say?"
"Yes, I'll do that as soon as I've made a preliminary ex-
amination. He's certain to order a post-mortem and send
somebody along to carry it out. Ah, here come those fellows
with the hand-cart. We'll get the body on to it at once."
The body, wrapped in a tarpaulin which was part of the
equipment of the tarring gang, was lifted on to the cart and
the melancholy procession moved away.
Sergeant Playne, having seen to the disposal of the body
in a convenient outhouse of the Halfway House, bicycled
back to Fallowchurch. As he passed the Green Bear he no-
ticed the hearse standing where he had last seen it. Since it
was now getting on for nine o'clock, this struck him as cu-
rious. However, his mind was now fully occupied with more
serious matters than derelict hearses. He rode on to his own
house, whence he immediately got into communication with
the Superintendent of Police who was his immediate superior.
If the body found in the tar boiler had been recognizable,
the County Police would probably have kept the investiga-
tion in their own hands. But, faced with the difficulty of
identifying it, and with the ascertained fact that no one in
Fallowchurch or its neighbourhood had mysteriously van-
ished, the Chief Constable decided to summon the aid of
Scotland Yard. The matter was referred to Superintendent
Hanslet, who, under normal circumstances, would have dealt


26
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
with it himself. But, as he was to explain later to Dr. Priest-
ley, a second major case had arisen to claim his attention.
He was compelled, therefore, to depute the Fallowchurch af-
fair to his assistant, Inspector Waghorn.
Jimmy Waghorn, a graduate of Cambridge and the Metro-
politan Police College, Hendon, had been for a couple of
years attached to Hanslet at Scotland Yard, where he had
made himself very popular with his colleagues. Among his
superiors he was considered a highly promising detective of-
ficer. He had the gift of learning the experience of the older
men of the Force and grafting this on to his own by no means
inconsiderable educational attainments. He also had the
inestimable advantage of knowing Dr. Priestley, from whom
he had acquired something of the latter's own respect for
facts.
The telephone message from the County Police reached
Scotland Yard shortly before half-past two. Jimmy caught
the three o'clock train at Charing Cross, arriving at Fallow-
church Station at 4.26 p.m. Here, he was met by Sergeant
Playne, who seemed distinctly ta..en aback by the youthful-
ness of the inspector.
Jimmy, always pretty shrewd at guessing other people's
thoughts, laughed outright. "I'm not so young as I look,
really, sergeant," he said. "At all events, I've been two years
at the Yard and that's calculated to take the callowness out
of any man. Besides, I shall have yoiM^^ ,f experience to
draw upon. I'm only here to help and advise, you know, not
to take charge."
"It's very good of you to put it in that way, sir," said
Playne in some confusion.
"Let's drop the 'sir' except on formal occasions," said
Jimmy. "You and I are just two policemen engaged on the
same job and we don't want any stiffness between us. Is there


JIMMY'S CASE
27
anywhere where we can have a cup of tea together, while you
tell me this story of yours?"
It ended by Jimmy being entertained to tea in the ser-
geant's house. Playne told the story of the discovery of the
body in the tar boiler and its removal to the Halfway House.
"Since I reported to the superintendent this morning, I've
had a further report from Dr. Menslowe," he continued. "The
doctor managed to get most of the tar off the body, but he
says that it's still absolutely unrecognizable. And that's
hardly wonderful, considering that it must have been lying
in that nearly boiling tar for some hours." •
"Can the doctor give us any particulars about the body at
all?" Jimmy asked.
"He says that it is the body of a man about five feet eight
inches in height. The man was well nfllarished, though prob-
ably not over-stout. As to his age he was probably over forty-
five. And those are the only particulars that the doctor can
give."
"What about the majBdpavid Gurney, who found the
body?" ... p&
"He's a thoroughly respectable chap who's been employed
by the County Council for years. He lives here in Fallow-
church and has a blameless reputation. He's got a wife and
two daughters, both of whom are in domestic service, and he
sings in the choi^Xdon't think that it's at all likely that he
knows more has already told me."
"I'm not an expert on road work, though of course I
know what a tar boiler looks like. What is the routine in the
case of this one exactly?"
"I'd better tell you what Gurney and his gang have been
doing during the last few days. To begin with, the council de-
cided to tar the road between Dimbury and here, beginning at
the Dimbury end. The first step was to get the materials


28
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
ready. A lorry came along dropping tar barrels at intervals,
and these were rolled on to the grass at the side of the road.
Then other lorries came, bringing grit from the gravel pits,
which they dumped here and there, also on the grass.
"Everything was ready towards the end of last week, then
Dave and his lads got to work with the actual tarring. You
say you know what a tar boiler looks like? Well, this one's
got a pump and a sprayer. The idea is this. Tar is poured into
the boiler from the barrels and the fire stoked until the tar is
boiling. Then a horse is harnessed to the shafts of the boiler
and the thing is dragged along the road. One man works the
pump which forces the tar out through the nozzle of the
sprayer. Dave himself holds the nozzle and spreads the tar
over the road. Other members of his gang follow up with a
hand-cart full of grit which they sprinkle over the surface of
the road as Gurney passes."
"I've got that all right, I think," said Jimmy. "What hap-
pens exactly when the men knock off work for the day?"
"The boiler is run into some convenient place where it
won't be in the way of the traffic. Gurney's practice is to see
that it is full up with tar, or nearly so, before the men go
away, so that no time is wasted in the morning. Gurney him-
self sees that the fire is out, or so low that there is no danger
of its setting anything alight. Then one of the men goes off
with the horse—they usually park him with one of the farm-
ers near where they are working—and the rest go off home
on their bicycles. The next morning, Gurney goes out to the
tar boiler about a couple of hours or so before the rest of the
gang, lights his fire again and watches it until the tar boils."
"No sort of watch is kept over the boiler at night, I sup-
pose?"
Sergeant Playne shook his head. "It isn't necessary," he
replied. "Nobody would be likely to steal it. The worst they


JIMMY'S CASE
29
could do would be to run off some of the tar and take it
away."
"I think you said that when Gurney reached the boiler
this morning, he found the fire still burning?"
"So he says. He can't understand it, for he has never
known such a thing to happen before."
"Is there much traffic on the road between here and Dim-
bury?"
"There's a fair amount during the day-time, but as a rule,
there's not much at night. As it happens, one of my chaps
had a point with the constable from Dimbury outside the
Halfway House at half-past eleven last night. I questioned
him, of course. He says that not more than three or four cars
passed him from the time he left Fallowchurch until he got
back again. As for the tar boiler, he saw it standing by the
roadside, but he's quite certain that there was nobody hang-
ing round about it."
"I suppose no one who would correspond with the doctor's
very vague description has been missing from these parts
lately?"
Again Playne shook his head. "I thought of that at once,"
he replied. "I made what inquiries I could, and I can't hear
of any one. But if you've finished your tea, I dare say you'd
like to walk out to the Halfway House and look round?"
"I'd rather borrow a bicycle," Jimmy replied. "Walking
isn't much in my line, I'm afraid."
"Then I can very soon fix you up," said the sergeant. He
was as good as his word, and within a few minutes he and
Jimmy had mounted their bicycles and were riding through
the village.
It was not yet six o'clock, and consequently the Green
Bear was not open. But as they passed the house the sign
caught Jimmy's attention. "Nice looking pub, that," he said


30
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
approvingly. "But is the landlord an undertaker as well as a
publican?"
"Mr. Wedgwood an undertaker!" Playne exclaimed.
"Why, he'd faint away at the very idea of such a thing. Oh,
you mean that hearse standing outside? That's rather a
queer thing. Somebody left it here in the middle of last night
and has never come back to fetch it. Wedgwood's very upset
about it, I can tell you. If I hadn't been so busy over this tar
boiling business I might have tried to do something about it
for him."
"We may as well have a look at it as we're passing," said
Jimmy.
He got off his bicycle and walked round the hearse on the
pretext of examining it. Actually his imagination was busy
with a theory which had flashed upon him. A hearse nat-
urally suggested a dead body. Had this hearse any connexion
with the body which had been found in the tar boiler?
There was really no logical reason to connect the appear-
ance of the hearse with the discovery of the body. But Jimmy
had already made several mental notes upon the case with
which he had been entrusted. Most of these concerned the
means by which the body had found its way into the boiler.
There were three possibilities to be considered. The first was
that of accident. It was, he supposed, conceivably possible
that some inquisitive person had come along during the night
and opened the lid of the boiler. Peering into its interior, he
might have overbalanced and fallen in. On the whole, Jimmy
was not inclined to favour this explanation.
The second possibility was that some individual had hit
upon an entirely novel form of suicide. But it seemed incred-
ible that any one should seek so painful a form of death as
being boiled alive. This explanation, too, might be discarded
as supremely improbable. The only remaining possibility was


JIMMY'S CASE
31
that of murder.
That he was confronted with a case of murder, Jimmy had
from the first been convinced. Everything pointed to it. The
body had been disposed of in such a way that when discov-
ered it would be unrecognizable. This of course was greatly
to the murderer's advantage. It was probable that his victim
was already dead when he was thrown into the boiler. It did
not follow that the murder had been committed in the im-
mediate neighbourhood. In that case the murderer had been
faced with the problem of the transport of the body from the
scene of the murder to the boiler.
Now a dead body was not an easy thing to transport. It
could not readily be disguised, and its conveyance in any
ordinary vehicle might well lead to remark. But a hearse!
Hearses were constructed for the very purpose of transport-
ing dead bodies. A murderer might drive his victim all over
England in one without arousing the slightest suspicion. No
one would stop him to inquire into the origin of the body
which the hearse must be presumed to contain. And this par-
ticular hearse had mysteriously appeared upon the scene
during the very night in which the body had been deposited
in the boiler.
Jimmy did not reveal his thoughts to the sergeant; time
enough for that when he had found even a particle of evi-
dence with which to support his theory. As Playne had done
before him, he glanced at the number plates and at the li-
cence.
"It wouldn't waste much of our time to put a call through
to the Berkshire County Council, and find out who this
thing belongs to," Jimmy remarked.
"I'd have done that before if I hadn't had so many other
things to attend to," the sergeant replied. "Ill nip back to my
place and tell one of my chaps to do it now. He'll have got an


32
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
answer by the time we get back from the Halfway House."
"You say that the landlord of this pub doesn't like the
thing standing here. Well, I don't blame him. It's not alto-
gether a cheerful spectacle. Isn't there a garage in the village
we could run it into?"
"Well, there's Quain's place just up the road. I dare say he
wouldn't mind taking it in. But he'll expect to be paid for
it, you know. Shall I slip in and ask him to send a chap
round to drive it there?"
"There's no need for that," Jimmy replied. "If the thing
can be made to go, I dare say that I can drive it."
"I expect it's broken down or something, else it wouldn't
have been left standing out here," said the sergeant du-
biously.
"Well, let's try our luck, anyhow," said Jimmy. He sprang
into the driving seat and put his foot on the self-starter
pedal. After two or three attempts the engine started. Guided
by the sergeant, Jimmy drove the hearse into the yard of the
local garage.
Mr. Quain yielded to the sergeant's representations and
raised no objection to the hearse standing in the yard for a
reasonable time. But Jimmy was still unsatisfied. "I suppose
we ought to find out what's inside that coffin, sergeant," he
said.
Playne grinned. "The coffin's empty, I'll be bound," he
replied. "You don't expect to find a body in it, do you?"
"I've learnt by now that a policeman never knows what to
expect," said Jimmy. He opened the back of the hearse,
caught hold of one of the handles of the coffin and gave it a
tug. "I can't budge it," he said quietly. "Come and bear me a
hand, sergeant."
It was with the greatest difficulty that the two of them
dragged the coffin from the hearse and laid it on the ground.


JIMMY'S CASE
33
"Well, I'm bound to admit that I was wrong," said Playne
as he mopped his face with a large handkerchief. "The
blessed thing isn't empty, that's certain enough."
"Well, we'll very soon find out what's in it," Jimmy re-
plied. "There are only two screws holding the lid, I see. If
you can borrow a good-sized screwdriver from your friend,
Mr. Quain, we'll very soon have them out."
The tool was produced, and Jimmy rapidly extracted the
screws. Between them they lifted the lid off the coffin. It
proved to be rather more than half-full of gravel.
Jimmy's face lighted up. This surely was evidence in sup-
port of his theory. He bent down idly, picked up a handful
of the gravel, looked at it and then put it in his pocket.
"Well, that's that," he said. "We needn't waste any more
time over this little lot. At least, not for the present. We'd
better be getting along to the Halfway House."
Once more they mounted their bicycles, and set out on the
road towards Dimbury. In less than quarter of an hour, they
reached the overturned tar boiler over which one of Playne's
constables was still standing sentry. The sergeant explained
to Jimmy how the body had been extracted, and the steps
which had subsequently been taken.
Jimmy listened and then began to examine the boiler for
himself. It had been drawn up beside the road, at a spot
where the grass verge was about five yards wide. A few
yards away from the boiler was the remains of a heap of grit,
the greater part of which had already been used for sprin-
kling the roads. Jimmy bent down and picked up a sample of
this grit. It seemed to him exactly similar to the handful
which he had taken from the coffin.
Jimmy next turned his attention to the tar which had been
run out of the boiler. This had now cooled and spread into
a thick viscous pool over the surrounding part. It was not a


34 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
promising subject for exploration, and Jimmy felt that it
might be left where it was for the present.
Having completed his preliminary survey, he suggested
to the sergeant that they might go on and view the body.
This most unpleasant duty was soon completed. A single
glance satisfied Jimmy that the remains were indeed com-
pletely unrecognizable. Finally, they returned to Fallow-
church, after Jimmy had expressed a wish that the guard
upon the tar boiler should not be relaxed.
Upon reaching the sergeant's house, they found that a
reply had been received to their inquiry. The Berkshire
County Council had looked up the record of the registration
number ZZ 542. It had been allotted to a sixteen horse-power
motor hearse, the property of Messrs. Golder & Brown,
funeral furnishers, of Reading.
"It's wonderful how things change their name," said
Jimmy. "An asylum has become a mental hospital, a work-
house a Poor Law Institute, a pair of pyjamas a slumber
suit, and an undertaker a funeral furnisher. However, the
things remain the same whatever people care to call them.
So this hearse of ours belongs to a firm of funeral furnishers,
does it? Now, why do you suppose, sergeant, that they took
it into their heads to dump it outside the Green Bear at Fal-
lowchurch?"
Playne shook his head in complete perplexity. "I haven't
the slightest idea, inspector," he replied.
"But I think I have," said Jimmy. "Look here, sergeant,
you know the provisions of the Road Act as well or better
than I do. What do you have to do when you sell any sort
of motor vehicle to any one else?"
"You have to notify your Registration Authority, on a
form R.F. 70, which may be obtained from any money-
order post office," Payne replied promptly.


JIMMY'S CASE
35
"Well done, sergeant; you've got the regulations by heart,
I can see that. What particulars do you have to give on this
form?"
"The registration, make and class of the vehicle and the
name and address of the person to whom it was handed over."
"Splendid, but do you have to do all that before you part
with a vehicle?"
"The regulations don't say so. They say 'at the time when
the vehicle is handed over.'"
"Most people would interpret that as giving a margin of
a few days. I think it extremely probable that Messrs. Golder
& Brown have sold this hearse quite recently, and have not
yet notified their registration authority. In that case they'll
know who they sold it to, and will be able to tell us."
"And we can get in touch with them and inform them that
the hearse has been deposited in Quain's yard," said the ser-
geant complacently.
"No, I don't think we'll do that exactly," replied Jimmy
slowly. "It's in my mind that the present owner of the hearse
could tell us quite a lot about the body that's lying at the
Halfway House. Listen, sergeant, and I'll tell you the theory
I've formed.
"I don't believe that the dead man comes from this part
of the world at all. I believe he was murdered a considerable
distance away by an individual who for the present we'll
call X. Now X is faced with the problem which is the curse
of all good murderers. He has to dispose of the body without
casting suspicion on himself. In this case he has hit upon a
very good dodge for making the body of his victim unrecog-
nizable.
"But he didn't care to select a tar boiler too near the scene
of the murder. People might jump to conclusions when the
body was found. He had then to consider the transport of


36
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
the body to a safe and convenient distance. And once again
he got hold of an extraordinarily bright idea. If he has a
hearse at his disposal, his problem disappears. Far from
having to conceal the body of his victim, he has only to put
it into a coffin and then he can drive it openly wherever his
fancy inclines him. It's really rather a wonderful scheme
when you come to think about it."
The sergeant looked slightly incredulous. "But I don't
quite see "he began.
"I haven't finished yet. I'm not going to conjecture now
when and where the body got into the coffin and the coffin
into the hearse. I'm going straight on to what happened last
night. The hearse, coffin and body reached the tar boiler at
some time after your man had come back from his point at
the Halfway House.
"We don't know when that was. Let's say two o'clock in
the morning, for the sake of argument. The driver of the
hearse pulls in as near as he can to the boiler. He takes the
body out of the coffin and transfers it to the boiler. Then he
puts a few shovelsful of grit into the coffin by way of make-
weight. *»
"But by two o'clock in the morning the fire would be out
and the tar would be nearly cold. Since one of the murderer's
objects is that the body should not be identified, it is neces-
sary for him to rekindle the fire. There would, as you have
probably noticed for yourself, be no difficulty about that.
Apart from the sack of coal which I saw lying near the boiler,
there were several pieces of wood about which, smeared
with tar, would make excellent kindling. The murderer, I
feel pretty certain, relighted the fire and made it up well.
And that would account for Gurney finding it still smoulder-
ing this morning.
"All that remained then was to dispose of the hearse. I


JIMMY'S CASE
37
don't doubt that the murderer had explored this ground be-
forehand. He had discovered the pull up in front of the
Green Bear and realized that it would serve his purpose ex-
cellently. He just quietly drove up, stopped the engine and
slipped away."
"Where would he slip away to?" Sergeant Playne asked.
"That's one of the things we've got to try and find out,"
Jimmy replied. "I don't suppose he hung about the village
and took the first train from the station this morning. That
would have been far too risky. It's more likely that he walked
some distance across country before he ventured to enter a
public vehicle. And since at present we have no idea of his
appearance, we're going to find it a difficult job to trace him.
"Now this is what I suggest, sergeant. I shall catch the
first train in the morning to Reading. Meanwhile you had
better find out what quarry the grit used on the road be-
tween here and Dimbury comes from. Get hold of the man-
ager, show him the grit in the coffin, and ask him if it is the
same. I'm pretty sure that it is, but it's just as well to have
expert evidence on every possible point."
Next morning Jimmy took an early train to Reading,
where he arrived about half-past nine. He found his way to
the establishment of Messrs. Golder & Brown, and intro-
duced himself to the manager. To him he explained that he
was inquiring about a motor hearse, registered in the firm's
name under the number ZZ 542.
"Oh, that old thing!" exclaimed the manager contemptu-
ously. "We sold it two or three days back."
"Then how is it that it is still registered in your name?"
Jimmy asked.
"Because I only notified the sale to the registration author-
ity last night. They'll have got my letter by now."
"Would you mind giving me the name and the address


38
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
of the purchaser?"
"Willingly," the manager replied. "I've got a note of him
here. Mr. John Ambrose, High Street, Fallowchurch."
Jimmy succeeded in concealing his amazement. If the
hearse had been purchased by a resident of Fallowchurch,
its unexpected appearance in front of the Green Bear was
very simply accounted for. In which case, his ingeniously
constructed theory had crashed about his ears.
"Are you personally acquainted with Mr. Ambrose?" he
asked.
"I saw him for a minute or two on Wednesday afternoon,
when he called to take away the hearse. And a very decent
sort of chap he seemed. Rather different from what I had
expected."
"What reason had you to expect anything else?" Jimmy
asked quickly.
The manager laughed. "The chap who actually bought
and paid for the hearse struck me as being rather a tough
customer," he replied. "I'll tell you the whole story if you like.
This particular hearse hasn't been in use for some little time
now. It's out of date and hardly worth reconditioning. We
kept it in reserve in case of breakdown, and at last we de-
cided that it was taking up more space than it was worth,
and that the best thing we could do was to sell it. So we
advertised it in the Commercial Motor at a price of £25.
"We had no reply until last Tuesday afternoon, when a
fellow walked in here and asked if he could see the hearse
that was for sale. He was a man of between fifty and sixty
who looked and spoke like a typical countryman. What's
more, he was a remarkably ugly looking customer, for he
had a harelip and a deformed left ear which looked like
nothing so much as a horse mushroom. He was wearing a
black coat, blue trousers and a hard hat. And I could see at


JIMMY'S CASE
39
a glance that he had had a good deal more to drink than
was good for him. Altogether he seemed to me a very un-
likely purchaser.
"I asked him what he wanted the hearse for, and he said
that he had a brother-in-law whose name was John Ambrose,
and who had an undertaker's business in Fallowchurch. He
told me that his own name was Alfred Pantony, and that as
he happened to be coming to Reading that day, his brother-
in-law had asked him to look at the hearse and buy it for him
if it was any good. I still wasn't altogether satisfied, and by
way of testing him I told him that if we sold the hearse, we
would only accept spot cash. To my astonishment, he pro-
duced a roll of notes, waved them in my face and asked me if
they were good enough. Until then I couldn't bring myself
to believe that it was a genuine inquiry.
"Well, to make a long story short, I took him into the
garage and showed him the hearse. He was in such a state
that I am sure that he saw at least a couple of them. Anyhow,
he never attempted any sort of examination. He just goggled
at the thing and patted it like one might a horse. Then, with
the typical gravity of a drunken man, he assured me that it
was the very thing that his brother-in-law wanted. I took
him back to the office where he paid over the money and I
gave him a receipt. I asked him what he wanted done with
the hearse and he said that his brother-in-law would call for
it the next day. Then he went away and I've never seen him
since. But I'd recognize him in a minute if I saw him again.
"Sure enough, his brother-in-law turned up next day just
before lunch-time. He introduced himself as Mr. John Am-
brose, the brother-in-law of Mr. Alfred Pantony, whom I had
met the previous day. He was a fairly tall, smartly dressed
fellow, wearing a black suit and a bowler hat. He produced
the receipt which I had handed to Pantony, and told me that


40
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
he would like to take the hearse away at once, as he wanted
to get to Fallowchurch that afternoon. While my chaps were
filling up with petrol, oil and water I had quite a chat with
him. He told me that he was doing pretty well as a carpenter
and an undertaker in Fallowchurch, and that he had already
a horse-drawn hearse. But his trouble was that his horses
were getting old and past their work, and that he had de-
cided to go in for a motor hearse as being cheaper to run. I
told him that the one he had bought could do with a bit of
paint, but he said that there would be no difficulty about
that. As long as the machinery was in order he could manage
the rest. I told him that to the best of my belief he would
find nothing wrong with the chassis. Before he went off, he
asked me if I had a ready-made coffin which I could let him
have cheap, as he had a funeral on the next day. I showed
him two or three, and he chose one which he paid for. My
chaps put it in the hearse for him; then he said good-bye and
drove away. I suppose that he got to Fallowchurch all right,
or I should have heard from him before now."
"Yes, he got to Fallowchurch all right," Jimmy replied.
"Well, thanks very much. You've given me all the particulars
I wanted. Good-morning."
Jimmy caught the next train back to Fallowchurch. Dur-
ing the journey he tried to reconcile his theory with the par-
ticulars he had just learnt. Obviously both the inebriated
Mr. Pantony and his alleged brother-in-law had given false
names. They must both be concerned in the murder of the
unknown man.
Upon arrival at Fallowchurch, he went straight to the
sergeant's house, and found him enjoying a well-earned rest
after lunch. "Is there an undertaker in this village?" he
asked.
"Well, not exactly," Playne replied. "If anybody wants a


JIMMY'S CASE
41
posh funeral, they have to go to some one in Maidstone or
one of the other towns round about. But Joe Purchase, the
carpenter, will fix any one up with a funeral if they aren't
too particular."
"That's not the name," said Jimmy. "There's nobody
called John Ambrose living in the place, of course?"
"Why, yes, there is!" the sergeant exclaimed. "And not
more than a couple of doors away, either. You may have
noticed that little shop with the Handy Stores written up
above it. Well, that belongs to John Ambrose and his wife,
and has done for as long as I've been here."
This of course could be no more than coincidence, Jimmy
thought. "Has this John Ambrose got a brother-in-law?" he
asked.
"He has, and a pretty tough customer he is. Mrs. Am-
brose's brother, that is. She was a Miss Pantony and she's
got one brother, Alfred."
Jimmy dropped into a chair with a groan. "This is getting
beyond me!" he exclaimed. "What would you say, sergeant,
if I told you that John Ambrose bought that hearse and that
Alfred Pantony paid for it?"
"I should say that you were pulling my leg," Sergeant
Playne replied without hesitation.
"Well, I'm not doing so, intentionally, at all events. Just
listen while I tell you what I learnt at Reading this morning."
The sergeant listened with ever-increasing amazement.
"Well, that's the rummiest thing I ever heard in my life,"
he commented. "We'd best go round and see what John
Ambrose has got to say about it, hadn't we?"
"I'd like you to tell me something about these folk, before
we do that."
"I don't know if there's much more to tell you about the
Ambroses, inspector. They're a decent hard-working pair


42
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
who make a comfortable little living out of that general shop
of theirs. I suppose Ambrose is getting on for sixty and his
wife may be a few years younger."
"And Alfred Pantony? He must be a pretty conspicuous
sort of chap with that lip and ear?"
"He is that. There can't be another like him."
"What does he do for a living?"
"He doesn't do anything now. He never did more than
he could help. When I first came here, he was living with
the Ambroses. He never had regular work, but used to do
odd jobs about the village. He wasn't a bad worker, I believe,
but as soon as he got a few shillings in his pocket, he'd go
on the booze and wouldn't turn up at his work again for a
long time. People wouldn't stand that, of course, and it
wasn't always that he could find any one to employ him. I
fancy that he lived on his sister's charity most of the time.
"Then, a couple of years back, he had a wonderful stroke
of luck. It always seems to me that these things happen to
the least deserving people. Anyway, Alfred Pantony won a
thousand pound prize in the Irish Sweep. But I will say this
for him. There weren't many folks sober in Fallowchurch on
the night that he got the money.
"However, when Alf pulled himself together again, a day
or two later, he acted more .sensibly than one might have ex-
pected. He gave half the money to his sister right out, on
the understanding that she keep him for the rest of his days.
The rest he put away to spend as he wanted it, and I don't
mind guessing that there's a good bit of it left still."
"Some of it has gone in liquor, I suppose?" said Jimmy.
"That's about it. I will say this, though. He's learning to
carry his drink without making a fool of himself. But you'll
find him in the bar of the Green Bear morning and night,
whenever the place is open. And I've heard it said that he's


JIMMY'S CASE
43
grown mingy lately. He doesn't mind being treated, but
doesn't care about treating other folks."
"Because he wants his money to last out as long as possi-
ble," said Jimmy. "You're right, we'd better go round and
see John Ambrose. I think we'll begin by asking him where
he was on Wednesday afternoon last."
"Wednesday is early closing day here," said the sergeant.
"Yes, and that may be significant. Come along and you
can introduce me."
It was Mrs. Ambrose whose inspiration had christened the
establishment the Handy Stores. The name was not inap-
propriate for the shop stood practically in the centre of the
village. But in respect of its internal arrangements the word
"handy" scarcely applied. The miscellaneous goods which it
contained were heaped together in a thoroughly inextricable
confusion. If you asked for a bar of soap Mr. or Mrs. Am-
brose had to shift half a dozen such unlikely things as rub-
ber boots before it could be found. You might reckon that
it would take ten minutes to effect the simplest purchase.
However, Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose were always good-tempered
and ready to please. It would have been positively cruel to
express the slightest impatience.
As Jimmy and the sergeant entered the place, an elderly
man was standing behind the counter, weighing out pounds
of sugar with the aid of a primitive balance.
"Good-afternoon, Mr. Ambrose," said the sergeant. "I've
brought round a friend of mine from Scotland Yard to have
a word with you."
Mr. Ambrose turned round and Jimmy saw at a glance
that he could not have been the man who had collected the
car from Reading. He was under-sized, with a wizened face
and a short unkempt beard. He differed in every respect from
the description which Golder & Brown's manager had given


44
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
of the man who called himself John Ambrose.
"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," said Mr. Ambrose, ap-
parently somewhat bewildered by the sergeant's introduc-
tion.
"The pleasure's mine," said Jimmy politely. "There are
just one or two questions I should like to ask you. To begin
with, can you tell me what you were doing about mid-day
on Wednesday, the day before yesterday?"
"What I was doing?" Mr. Ambrose replied. "Why, what
would I be doing but serving in the shop here? You see, we
close at one o'clock on Wednesday, and there's always a rush
for an hour or two before that. People never seem to remem-
ber till the last minute that there's something they want."
"And what did you do after the shop was closed?"
"Why, I had some dinner and a bit of a nap afterwards.
Then I went out into my kitchen garden and dug a few po-
tatoes. Wednesday afternoon's the only chance I have to do
any gardening."
"Was Mrs. Ambrose with you all the time?"
"Why, of course she was. She had dinner with me and
then helped me to dig up the potatoes afterwards."
"Was-your brother-in-law, Alfred Pantony, with you too?
He lives here, doesn't he?"
"He certainly has his meals here. It isn't much that we see
of him, since he won all that money. But he wasn't here on
Wednesday and he isn't here now. He's gone away with that
Mr. Cartmell who's been staying at the Green Bear."
"Where's he gone to?" Jimmy asked sharply.
But Mr. Ambrose shook his head. "That's more than I
can say," he replied. "He wouldn't tell us where he was go-
ing. And we didn't know anything about it until after break-
fast on Tuesday, when he asked me if he could borrow an
old Gladstone bag I've got. I asked him what he wanted it


JIMMY'S CASE
45
for, and he said just to put a few things in. He said that he
was going away with Mr. Cartmell for a few days, and we
mustn't expect him back till we saw him."
Mr. Ambrose paused as a sudden idea struck him. "He
hasn't got into any trouble?" he asked anxiously.
"Not that I know of," Jimmy replied reassuringly. "You
haven't heard from him since he's been away?"
"Alf was never much of a hand at writing," said Mr. Am-
brose. "We shouldn't be likely to hear from him unless he
wanted anything."
Jimmy looked round the shop speculatively. It seemed to
him to contain an extraordinary number of articles which
nobody could possibly want. "Have you ever thought of go-
ing into the undertaker's business, Mr. Ambrose?" he asked
suddenly.
"Now, whatever could have put that into your head!"
Mr. Ambrose exclaimed. "Whatever should I think of doing
that for, when Joe Purchase is doing the very same thing
just across the road? Besides, the missus and I have enough
to do here in the shop without worrying about anything else."
"Then I suppose you don't happen to have bought a motor
hearse recently?"
At this apparently foolish question Mr. Ambrose stiffened
and glared at his questioner. "I don't know whether you're
trying to make fun of me, sir," he said indignantly. "The
sergeant here will tell you that I'm a respectable man who
wouldn't have anything to do with motor hearses and such.
They do say that one of them things was left outside the
Green Bear yesterday morning. But that's got nothing what-
ever to do with me."
"I'm afraid it'll turn out that you are the legal owner of
it, Mr. Ambrose," said Jimmy pleasantly. "However, we
needn't stop to talk about that just now. Good-afternoon,


46
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
and many thanks."
Jimmy left the shop, followed by the sergeant who seemed
secretly amused by the turn events had taken. "What about
it now, inspector?" he asked slyly.
"I don't know," Jimmy replied. "The only grain of com-
fort seems to be that Alfred Pantony left the village on Tues-
day. Who is this Mr. Cartmell that Ambrose talks about?"
"He's a commercial traveller of sorts, I believe. He doesn't
belong to these parts, but I know that he's been staying at
the Green Bear for a fortnight or so. I've seen him a few
times—he's a big powerful-looking chap with a long drooping
moustache. I've always seen him dressed in an old shooting
coat and plus fours, and he wears big horn-rimmed glasses.
He's the sort of chap you'd know again as soon as you'd seen
him once. He owns a car which he goes about the country in,
but that's about all I can tell you."
"Better see what the landlord of the Green Bear can tell
us," said Jimmy. "It's three o'clock now and the pub will
be shut. But I dare say we shall find him at home."
"Sure to," the sergeant agreed. "He'll have finished his
dinner and will be having his afternoon nap. But I dare say
he won't mind if we knock him up for once."
By dint of constant hammering on the door, they suc-
ceeded in rousing Mr. Wedgwood. He came downstairs in
his shirt-sleeves and a pair of carpet slippers, and looked
none too pleased at the interruption of his slumbers. But, on
recognizing the sergeant, he brightened up at once.
"Come along inside, sergeant," he said. "I've got you to
thank for driving that blessed hearse away from my front
yesterday afternoon."
"It's this gentleman you've got to thank," Playne replied.
"Inspector Waghorn from Scotland Yard, and he's just


JIMMY'S CASE
47
looked in to ask you a few questions."
"I'll be glad to answer them as best I can," said Mr.
Wedgwood. "Come into the front room, both of you—
you'll be more comfortable there. Now then, sit down. Is
there anything I can offer you?"
The sergeant glanced at Jimmy, who replied promptly.
"I'd enjoy nothing better than a glass of beer, Mr. Wedg-
wood."
The landlord nodded sagely and disappeared into the cel-
lar. He emerged a few seconds later with three pints of beer
on a tray. He handed two of these to his visitors, keeping the
third for himself.
"Here's the test!" he exclaimed, as he took a generous
pull. "Now then, what is it that you gentlemen want to
know?"
"Here's to your very good health," Jimmy replied. "You've
got a visitor of the name of Cartmell staying with you,
haven't you?"
"Well, I have and I haven't, if you understand me," Mr.
Wedgwood replied. "Mr. Cartmell went away on Tuesday
morning, and told me that he would probably be back again
before the weed-end. I haven't seen him yet, but he might
turn up at any time now."
"How long had he been staying with you before he went?"
"A, matter of a fortnight or so. He came into the bar just
after I'd opened it one evening. A fortnight ago last Tuesday,
it was, I recollect. Yes, that's right. The fourth of this month.
He was a perfect stranger to me, I'd never set eyes on him
before. He called for a pint and stood there for a bit, drink-
ing it. There were no other customers in the place, for the
local chaps don't usually get round much before seven. He
chatted to me for a bit and then told me that he was looking


48
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
for somewhere to stay in this part of the country for a month
or so. Did I know of anywhere he'd find himself comfort-
able?"
"Well, as the sergeant knows, we've got a spare room and
don't mind taking in anybody who won't give us any trouble.
So I asked him what he would want and he said only a bed,
with a trifle of breakfast in the morning and a bit of supper
at night. Most of the time he'd be about the country in his
car. So I went and had a word with the missus, and she said
we might as well take him in."
"Have you ever had reason to repent of this decision?"
Jimmy asked.
"No, that I haven't," the landlord replied emphatically.
"Mr. Cartmell has never given us the slightest trouble. And
what's more, apart from his board and lodging he's spent a
lot of money in the bar. Whenever he came back in the eve-
nings he'd come in here and treat such customers as there
might be around."
"That's how Pantony made his acquaintance, I suppose?"
the sergeant suggested.
"Well, you know what Alf Pantony is," said Mr. Wedg-
wood apologetically. "Mind, I'm not saying anything against
him, for he's a very good customer of mine. But if there are
free drinks going, Pantony's sure to be there, in spite of the
money he's got put away. And, somehow, Mr. Cartmell
seemed to take to him from the first, though you'd have
thought the two were as different as chalk from cheese."
"We're told that Mr. Cartmell and Pantony went away
together on Tuesday," said Jimmy. "Do you happen to know
anything about that, Mr. Wedgwood?"
"Well, as it happens, I do know something about it," Mr.
Wedgwood admitted cautiously. "They fixed it up between
them in this very bar on Monday evening. Mr. Cartmell


JIMMY'S CASE
49
went up to London by train that day, as he had done once or
twice before since he'd been with me. He caught the ten-three
in the morning, I remember, and said that he mightn't be
back until late. And sure enough, he walked into the bar that
evening just after half-past ten. As you know, sergeant, we
don't close until half-past ten here during the summer
months."
Playne nodded. "That's right," he agreed. "And you
usually give yourself five minutes' grace, I know. Mr. Cart-
mell had come back by train, I suppose?"
"Yes, he told me that he had caught the last train from
London Bridge."
"That gets in at ten twenty-eight. Give him five minutes
to walk from the station and he'd have been here between
half-past ten and five and twenty to eleven."
"So he was. In fact, all my customers had gone except
Alf Pantony. He was just getting up and he'd have been
gone too, in another minute. But as soon as Mr. Cartmell
saw him, 'You're just the man I want to talk to, Pantony,'
he said. Then he turned to me and said that since he was
living in the house, there was no harm in his treating one of
his friends, even though it might be after hours. So he or-
dered two points of beer, one for himself and one for Pan-
tony. I drew them and then the missus called to me that my
supper was ready, so I left them both sitting in here.
"I dare say I was a matter of ten minutes or so eating my
supper, and then I came back here. Pantony had finished his
pint and got up to go, and I heard clearly enough what Mr.
Cartmell said to him."
"What did he say, Mr. Wedgwood?" Jimmy asked.
"He said, 'Very well, that's settled. You meet me here at
half-past ten to-morrow morning, and we'll start off together
as soon as we've had a drink.' Then Alf went out and Mr.


50
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Cartmell turned to me. 'I've got to go away on a longer trip
than usual to-morrow, landlord,' he said. 'I don't know how
long I'll have to be away, but I'm pretty sure to be back by
the end of the week. And since I hate driving about the
country by myself all day I'm going to take Pantony with
me.' I thought it was a pretty queer choice for a man in
Cartmell's postion, but naturally I didn't say anything.
"Next morning, Tuesday, that was, Alf was round here at
half-past ten sharp. Mr. Cartmell had his car standing all
ready outside the door with his suitcase in it. Alf was carry-
ing an old-fashioned sort of Gladstone bag which looked as
if it had seen its best days. Mr. Cartmell told me to bundle
it into the car and then they had a couple of pints each. It
was just gone eleven o'clock when I saw them drive away
together."
"And you've seen or heard nothing of either of them
since?" Jimmy suggested.
Mr. Wedgwood shook his head. "No, and I can't say that
I expected to," he replied. "Mr. Cartmell knows well enough
that he'll find his room ready for him when he comes back.
As for Alf, I don't suppose his sister and her husband will
worry much if he does stay away for a few days."
"Can you tell us anything of Mr. Cartmell's business?"
"Only whaUhe told me, and that isn't much. I asked him
in a friendly sort of w^y, after he'd been with me a day or
two, whether he meant to settle down in these parts. He said
he might do that when he retired, for he liked the locality
of Fallowchurch and the folk here. But until that happened,
he had to go where his firm sent him."
"Did he happen to tell you the name of his firm?"
"No, he didn't. Mr. Cartmell is one of the nicest gentle-
men you could meet, but he keeps his own counsel about his
business, and I don't blame him. He told me that his firm


JIMMY'S CASE
51
had a big place in the south of London, but he didn't tell me
what their business was. A day or two later, though, when we
were chatting in the kitchen after closing time, he did loosen
up a bit. He said that his firm was thinking of opening up in
a pretty big way in this part of the country, and that they'd
sent him to look round and make inquiries. And he said that
he had to be very careful who he saw and what he said, in
case his firm's competitors should get wind of anything.
There's one thing I'm certain of, and that is that Mr. Cart-
mell has a pretty good job. He's always got plenty of money
and he doesn't mind spending it."
Jimmy remembered Playne's impression of Mr. Cartmell.
"He dresses rather queerly for a commercial representative,
doesn't he?" he asked.
Mr. Wedgwood laughed. "That's what the missus said to
me when she first set eyes upon him," he replied. "But you
may take it that Mr. Cartmell isn't just an ordinary traveller.
It wouldn't surprise me to hear that he was one of the heads
of the firm; though he doesn't want people to know it."
"What gives you that impression?" Jimmy asked.
"Well, I couldn't exactly say, but it's something about
him. You can tell a traveller as soon as he walks into your
house, whether he's on business or not. There's something
about the way he talks and the way he looks alfyou as though
he were sizing you up. And I've ,nevJ|s_been in the company
of a traveller for five minutes before he began spinning yarns.
Why, some of the tales I've heard travellers tell are enough
to blister the varnish on the counter. Sometimes when they
come in here I have to shut the door at the back of the bar
in case the missus should hear them from the kitchen."
"Mr. Cartmell isn't in the habit of spinning yarns like
that?" >
"Not he. A cleaner spoken gentleman you couldn't hope


52
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
to meet. And he hasn't got any of the traveller's patter about
him, either. As for the clothes he wears, I suppose he finds
them comfortable, though it does seem to me a bit odd that
he wears them when he goes up to London."
"What was he wearing when he left here on Tuesday
morning?"
"Just the same as I've always seen him. That old shooting
jacket of his with a hole in the right elbow. The missus of-
fered to mend it for him once, but he said that he was too
fond of the old coat to have it tampered with. A pair of them
plus-four knickers which didn't match the coat; stockings,
a pair of shoes that were a bit down at heel, and a soft hat
which had precious little shape left in it."
"And Alfred Pantony, what was he wearing?"
"Oh, Alf had put on his Sunday best for the occasion. He
was wearing a black coat, a pair of blue trousers, brown
boots and a hard black hat. What's more, he put on a collar
and tie, which he never does unless it's Sunday."
"Where does Mr. Cartmell keep his car when he's here?"
"In my shed round at the back. There's plenty of room
for half a dozen cars in there."
"You don't happen to remember the number by any
chance?"
"Ah, but I do," Mr. Wedgwood replied proudly. "Once
I've got anything like that into my head, I never forget it. It
was like this, you see. A week ago, Mr. Cartmell had to go
into Maidstone and asked me if I'd care to come with him
for the ride. I said I would for I had a few odds and ends
of things that I wanted to fetch from town. And Mr. Cart-
mell told me that while he was in Maidstone he would leave
the car at the Royal Star Hotel. He picked up a bit of paper
that happened to be lying on the bar, wrote the number of
the car on it and gave it to me. 'There you are,' he said, 'if


JIMMY'S CASE
S3
you want anything sent round to the car, you can tell the
people the number GX 692. Put that piece of paper in your
pocket and you won't forget it.' And that's how I come to
remember the number, you see."
"What sort of a car is it?"
"It's a fifteen horse-power Comet saloon, painted dark
green. I know that, for a customer of mine who calls this
way sometimes has one just like it. In fact, when Mr. Cart-
mell's car first pulled up outside here, I thought that was
the one."
"The number doesn't suggest that the car was a new one,"
Jimmy said thoughtfully.
"Well, it's seen a bit of service, there's no denying that.
The wings are a bit bent and the paint has worn off the body
in places. But as Mr. Cartmell once said, appearances don't
matter so long as the old bus will go. And she goes well
enough, I can say that, for as I tell you I've been out in her."
"Mr. Cartmell seems to like company when he goes out
in the car. Has he ever to your knowledge taken any one else
out for a run?"
"Only Alf, as far as I know. Mr. Cartmell seemed to take
a fancy to Alf from the first. He must have treated Alf to
more pints than I care to reckon up by now."
"Pantony has money of his own, hasn't he?"
"Well, he had a year ago, when he won that prize in the
Irish Sweep, for I saw the money myself. He must have a
good bit left still, in spite of his having given his sister half.
I don't think he ever spends any money outside this house,
and not more than he can help here."
"The prize was a thousand pounds, wasn't it?" Jimmy
asked.
"That's right. Then he gave his sister five hundred pounds
on condition she'd make a home for him for the rest of his


54 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
life. I know that for a fact, for John Ambrose, that's his
brother-in-law, came round and asked my advice as to what
he'd best do with the money."
"That leaves him five hundred pounds for himself," said
Jimmy thoughtfully. "Now, Mr. Wedgwood, how much do
you reckon that he's spent with you since he got the money?"
"Well, I couldn't say exactly," the landlord replied. "He
went on the spree the first night and stood everybody a drink
who cared to have it. And he didn't stop at one drink either.
He stood in this bar and called for round after round, until
the missus and I were fair run off our feet. I dare say you
remember that evening, sergeant?"
"I do," said Playne grimly. "If I hadn't shut my eyes to
a lot of things that I didn't want to see some of your cus-
tomers would have found themselves in trouble."
"Well, it isn't every day that a Fallowchurch man wins a
prize in the Irish Sweep," replied Mr. Wedgwood. "I dare
say Alf spent five pounds that night, or perhaps a bit more.
And it's wonderful what a lot of beer five pounds will buy
you in these days. I know that I had to send round to the
brewers the next day for a couple of eighteens, for I was
nearly drunk out."
"I gather that Pantony's hospitality has rather cooled off
since then," Jimmy remarked.
"You're right there. It was only the first night that Alf
was so free with his money. Since then, he seems to expect
the other customers to treat him in return. But I'm bound to
admit that he still spends a bit, especially if he suddenly
finds himself in here alone. He'll have three or four pints in
the morning and maybe three or four more at night. That's
what he pays for himself, I mean."
"Let's say that his average is eight pints a day. What sort
of beer does he drink?"


JIMMY'S CASE
55
"He always drinks bitter, and that's sixpence."
"Then his expenditure is four shillings a day, twenty-eight
shillings a week, or say seventy pounds a year. At that rate
he can't have got rid of more than a hundred out of his five
hundred pounds. He ought to have about four hundred
pounds left."
"I don't think that's far wrong," said Mr. Wedgwood. "In
fact, I overheard him telling Mr. Cartmell once when they
were alone in the bar here together that he'd got rather more
than four hundred pounds put away, which ought to last
him for a good bit if he went carefully."
"He didn't say where it was put away, did he?"
"If he did, I didn't hear him. But you may bet it isn't in
a bank or anywhere like that. Alf wouldn't let money go out
of his own keeping. I expect he's got it hidden away some-
where safe enough over at his sister's place. Unless, of course,
he's taken it away with him. He mightn't care to leave it
behind him in case there was a fire or anything like that."
After some further unimportant conversation, Jimmy and
Playne left the Green Bear and returned to the sergeant's
house.
"I believe we're beginning to get the hand of this thing,"
said Jimmy as soon as they were alone. "There are several
things about it that still want a lot of explanation, I'll admit.
But there's one thing I feel pretty certain about. The land-
lord of the Green Bear has seen the last of Alfred Pantony
and of his curious Mr. Cartmell too, for that matter."
This was not altogether clear to Playne. "What makes
you say that?" he asked.
"I'm pretty sure that the body found in the tar boiler is
Pantony's and that Cartmell murdered him," Jimmy re-
plied. "What brought Cartmell to Fallowchurch in the first
place, I don't know. It is just possible that he'd heard of


56
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Pantony's luck in the Irish Sweep and made up his mind
to secure the money for himself. Anyway, as soon as he got
here he made friends with Pantony. We have Mr. Wedg-
wood's word for that. And at last he suggested that he should
go with him for a few days in the car. I think Mr. Wedg-
wood's quite right and that Pantony took with him what
money he had left.
"You may say that four hundred pounds odd is a pretty
poor motive for murder. But I don't know that it is. People
have been bumped on the head for considerably less than
that. When, how and where was the murder committed, I
don't know, but I'm going to make it my job to try and find
out."
"What I don't understand is where the hearse comes in,"
said Playne doubtfully.
"No, that's one of the puzzling points of the whole thing.
Don't think there can be any manner of doubt that it was
actually Pantony who bought and paid for the hearse on
Tuesday afternoon? Let's go over the evidence of that point
by point.
"To begin with, the purchaser of the hearse gave his own
name as Pantony and said he was buying it for his brother-
in-law, Mr. John Ambrose, of Fallowchurch. By itself that is
no proof, for anybody who knew Fallowchurch could have
supplied those particulars. But the description of the pur-
chaser corresponds exactly to the description of Pantony.
He was an obvious countryman, he was wearing a hard hat,
black coat and blue trousers. Then there are those two very
striking characteristics the harelip and the deformed ear.
Quite a number of people have harelips, and I suppose al-
most an equal number have deformed ears. But the number
of people who have both must be very small indeed. And
I don't believe that any expert in disguise could reproduce


JIMMY'S CASE
57
these characteristics so faithfully that they would be taken
as genuine. You've got a road-book, I see, sergeant. You
might lend it to me for a moment."
Jimmy consulted the road-book for a few minutes jotting
down some figures on paper as he did so. "From what I can
make out the distance from here to Reading is somewhere
about eighty miles," he continued. "Now, according to
Mr. Wedgwood, Cartmell and Pantony left here just before
eleven o'clock. According to Golder & Brown's manager,
the hearse was bought about four o'clock. We can assume
that Pantony reached Reading in Cartmell's car. To cover
eighty miles in five hours would not require any very furious
driving. It would allow plenty of time to stop for several
drinks on the way. And from all accounts of Pantony's state
when he bought the hearse, he must have had several drinks
before he left the Green Bear."
"What on earth did he buy it for?" Playne demanded.
"To begin with, how did he know that Golder & Brown had
one for sale?"
"I was told that an advertisement had appeared in the
Commercial Motor. I happened to notice when we were in
the Green Bear just now, that a copy of that periodical was
lying on one of the tables in the bar. Consequently, of course,
Pantony might have seen the advertisement. But what I
think is much more probable is that Cartmell told him of it."
"But still, why should Pantony have wanted to buy a
hearse?" the sergeant insisted.
"Cartmell must have put it up to him, on what pretence
I can't possibly guess. Come to think of it, it's rather a subtle
idea to persuade your intended victim to buy the means of
transporting his own dead body."
"It's the first time I've heard of such a thing," said Playne
in a tone of strong disapproval.


58
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"I can't think of any precedent myself for the moment,"
replied Jimmy cheerfully. "Now, what happened between
Tuesday afternoon and the discovery of the body on Thurs-
day morning, I don't know, but I wouldn't mind betting that
the man who called for the hearse on Wednesday and gave
the name of John Ambrose was none other than Cartmell."
The sergeant shook his head. "From what you tell me,
inspector, the descriptions don't tally," he said. "You've
never seen Cartmell, and I have. He's the sort of man you
couldn't mistake. Anybody would notice him, wherever he
went."
"I don't doubt that, if they've seen him as you have seen
him," Jimmy replied quietly. "But you know, the more I
hear of Cartmell's appearance, the more it suggests a disguise
to me. A long flowing moustache, stuck on in such a way that
anybody could tell it wasn't natural. Horn-rimmed glasses
can be bought anywhere. Then the very slovenliness of Cart-
mell's taste in clothes seems to be suspicious. I'm pretty
certain that he wanted to impress his appearance on people,
and for that reason strove to make it unique.
"However, we won't labour that joint just now. Cartmell
has left us one clue, although I'm afraid it's rather a slender
one. Where was his own car during the time he was driving
the hearse?"
"We've got the number and description of that car," said
Playne hopefully.
"I know we have, and that's why I said the clue is rather
a slender one. Cartmell seems deliberately to have impressed
the number of his car upon Mr. Wedgwood. Would he have
done so if he could be traced by that number? I very much
doubt it. However, I can't neglect a clue just because I doubt
it will lead anywhere. It's my business to trace that particu-
lar number. GX is a London mark which was current about


JIMMY'S CASE
59
five years ago. When is the next train to London?"
Playne looked at his watch. "It's a quarter to five now," he
replied. "There's a train at five o'clock. You can catch it
comfortably, if you want to."
"Good!" Jimmy exclaimed. "What time does it get to
London?"
The sergeant consulted a time-table hanging on the wall.
"6.25," he replied.
"Then you might ring up the Board Licences Department
of the London County Council. Tell them that I've got an
urgent inquiry on hand and that I shall be calling at the
County Hall as soon after half-past six as I can. The office
will be closed by then, I expect, but you might ask them to
have somebody waiting for me. By the way, did you find
out anything about that gravel in the coffin?"
"The road surveyor himself happened to come along and
I showed it to him," Playne replied. "He says it's exactly
the same as the grit he's been using on the road between
here and Dimbury."
"Good enough," said Jimmy. "Unless anything crops up
to detain me I'll see you again some time to-morrow." And
with that he set off for the railway station.
His train was punctual and he reached the County Hall
soon after half-past six. An official was waiting for him, and
at his request searched the register. The history of the fif-
teen horse-power green Comet saloon GX 692 was soon
traced. It had originally been licenced five years earlier and
registered as the property of a gentleman living in Kensing-
ton. Four and a half years later, in the previous March, a
change of ownership had taken place. The car had been
transferred to the Passway Garage Ltd., Passway Road,
S.E. 11.
Jimmy made a note of these particulars as the official ex-


60
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
tracted them from the register.
"There's a record of a second change of ownership only-
three weeks or so ago," the official continued. "There's a sec-
ond entry dated July 29th of this year. The present owner
of the car appears to be Mr. George Cartmell, of 26 Mutley
Street, London, S.W. 11."
"Well, I'm damned!" Jimmy exclaimed. "That's the very
last thing that I expected."
"You know something about this man Cartmell, I dare-
say," the official remarked.
"I'd like to know a jolly sight more," Jimmy replied. "I
was pretty sure that I was tracing a false registration and
it appears to have been a genuine one all the time. Well, I'm
very much obliged to you. I'll go and see if I can find this
address, 26 Mutley Street. It will be in Battersea some-
where."
"Hold on a minute," said the official. "There's a note
which may interest you attached to that last entry. It's an
instruction that the registration book should be sent to Mr.
George Cartmell at the Green Bear, Fallowchurch. Cartmell
must have made that request when he sent on the book to us."
"Well, I'm dashed if I can make head or tail of it," said
Jimmy. "Everything seems perfectly straight and above
board, which is very different from what I expected. You
haven't any other startling disclosure to make, I suppose?"
"No, that's the end of the record," the official replied.
"Good-evening, inspector, and good luck to you."
Jimmy took a tram to Battersea and inquired at the local
police station for Mutley Street. A constable was detailed to
pilot him and they arrived at a dingy but respectable thor-
oughfare, bordered by small dwelling-houses. In the front
window of No. 26 was printed a card bearing the word
"Apartments." The door was opened by an elderly woman


JIMMY'S CASE
61
who looked at her caller with some disfavour. A likely lodger
would have been a more desirable visitor than the police.
However, she admitted them and expressed her willingness
to answer Jimmy's questions.
"Is any one of the name of George Cartmell living in this
house?" he asked.
"No, nor ever has been," the woman replied. "Though it's
true enough that the gentleman took my best room for a few
days."
"When was that?" Jimmy asked.
"It was the Wednesday before Bank Holiday that I first
saw him. It must have been about eight o'clock in the eve-
ning, and I was standing on the front steps trying to get a
bit of air. And I saw a gentleman coming along the street
carrying a suitcase and looking up and the windows. And
I thought to myself, 'He's looking for lodgings, I'll be bound.'
"Well, my best room happened to be empty just then, so
I could do with a lodger. There's a lot of ladies in this street
lets rooms and I didn't want him to go to any of them first.
So I just strolled towards him casual like, and when I got
up to him I made a curtsey. 'If I may make so bold as to
ask you, sir,' I said, 'you don't happen to be looking for a
nice room, do you, sir?'
"'That's just what I am looking for,' he said. 'You don't
happen to have one to let, do you?'
"Well, when I saw the gentleman a little closer, I began to
wish that I hadn't been so forward. It wasn't that there was
anything wrong with his looks, though his long moustache
and big horn-rimmed spectacles did make him look rather
queer. But it was his clothes, not a bit like what you'd expect
a gentleman to wear. He had on a shabby old coat, a pair of
baggy knickers that didn't match and a hat I should have
been ashamed to give to the dustman.


62
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"I think he must have seen me looking him over, for he
laughed. 'I've only just come up from the country, and
haven't had time to change,' he said. 'If you've got a room
to let I'll take it at once and I'll pay for it in advance, too.'
And with that he took out one of them wallet things and
flipped over a lot of pound notes. There must have been a
dozen of them or more.
"Seeing them was good enough for me. I brought him
back here and showed him my best room. He said that would
do for him famously, and that he would take it on the spot.
And he gave me two of his pound notes then and there. I
asked him if he'd like me to get him a bit of supper and he
said No, that he couldn't stop. He had to go and see some
friends whom he had promised to stay the night with, but
it might be that they would want him to stop with them over j
the holiday, but that didn't matter. He would leave his things'
in the room for me to look after and come back when he
could.
"Well, since he'd paid for the room, I didn't worry. It was
all one to me whether he slept in it or not. So he went away
and I didn't see him again, not until the day after Bank
Holiday.
"I thought he'd come to stay for good then, but he hadn't.
It was just after I'd had my dinner, about one o'clock, that
he came in. And in the same old clothes as before, but he
seemed in a terrible hurry. And then he told me that he
couldn't stop with me after all, for his firm had suddenly
sent him down into the country. He did tell me the name of
the place he was going to but I can't recollect it now."
"Fallowchurch," Jimmy suggested wearily.
"That was the name!" the woman replied. "He told me
that he had to go where his firm sent him, but that perhaps
he'd come back to me another time. He fetched his suitcase


JIMMY'S CASE
63
and went off, and I haven't seen him from that day to this."
"You didn't happen to look into his suitcase while it was
here, did you?"
"Well, I did think of it. You see, I thought there might be
some dirty linen in it that I could wash for him. But when
I tried to open it, I found that it was locked."
At a matter of routine Jimmy asked to be shown the best
room, though he was assured that two lodgers had occupied
it since Cartmell's last visit. Having found no trace of Cart-
mell there, he left Mutley Street and once more boarded a
tram.
This time his destination was Passway Road, which he
knew to be a turning off Kennington Lane. It was just pos-
sible that the people at the garage where Cartmell had bought
his car might be able to throw some light upon him.
Upon reaching the place Jimmy was lucky enough to find
the proprietor upon the premises. The latter perfectly well
remembered the sale of the 15 h.p. Comet car. He always
had a few reliable second-hand cars in stock, most of which
had been taken in part exchange. This particular car he had
bought from a dealer who had taken it in part exchange for
a new car from a gentleman who lived in Kensington. The
car was in perfectly good running order, though perhaps a
bit shabby, so he had added its particulars to the list which
he kept in his window of second-hand cars for disposal.
"It was July 29th that I sold it," the proprietor continued.
"About seven o'clock that evening, a gentleman—he spoke
like a gentleman though he didn't look like one—came into
the place and said that he saw I had a 15 h.p. Comet for sale.
He was so queerly dressed in an old coat and plus fours, that
he didn't look to me as though he had the money to pay for
it. But when I told him that I wanted sixty pounds cash for
the car he took a roll of notes out of his pocket and said


64
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
that if he liked it he would pay a deposit of fifteen quid down.
"Well, I showed him the car and after he'd seen the en-
gine running and looked over it a bit, he said he'd have it.
He told me that he wouldn't want it until after the holiday,
when his firm might be sending him down to the country on
business. He gave me his name and address, Mr. George Cart-
mell, 26 Mutley Street, S.W. 11, but he told me that for the
next fortnight or so he would be staying at the Green Bear
at Fallowchurch.
"The car was licenced and registered until the end of the
year, so there were no formalities about that. He paid down
the deposit and said he'd come and fetch the car and pay the
balance some time on Tuesday, August 4th. And he was as
good as his word, for he turned up on that day, about two
o'clock I think it was. He paid over the rest of the money
and then he asked me if I would mind sending the registra-
tion book to the County Hall for him. I said I'd do that, and
he gave me a note to put in with it, asking that the book
should be sent to him at Fallowchurch. And then he drove
the car away, after telling me that I would be sure to see him
again when he got back from the country; and see him again
I did, right enough."
"When was that?" Jimmy asked with scarcely concealed
eagerness.
"Why, last Tuesday as ever was," the proprietor replied.
"We keep open here until eleven o'clock at night, for we do
quite a lot of evening trade. It was round about ten o'clock
that Mr. Cartmell came in with the car. 'Here I am, you
see,' he said as friendly as could be. 'Back again from the
country.'"
Jimmy could hardly control his excitement. "This was at
ten o'clock last Tuesday, August 18th?" he said.


JIMMY'S CASE
65
"That's right. I knew him at once, for he was wearing the
same old clothes that I'd always seen him in and you couldn't
mistake his moustache and glasses."
"Had he any one with him?"
"No, he was alone. All he had with him in the car was his
suitcase. He told me that he had to stop in London for a few
days, so that he wouldn't want the car again for a bit. How-
ever, his firm would certainly send him out on the road again
very shortly, and he wanted to know whether I could keep
the car for him in the meanwhile. Naturally I said I would
and charge him as little as I could for it. So he thanked me
and said good-night, taking his suitcase with him. I haven't
seen him since, but I daresay he'll be back for the car next
week."
"Where is the car now?" Jimmy asked.
"Why, over there, in one of those lock-ups. You can have
a look at it, if you like. I'll get the key if you'll wait a mo-
ment or two."
The lock-up was opened and Jimmy proceeded to examine
the car minutely. It was exactly as Mr. Wedgwood had
described it. A green 15 h.p. Comet saloon, with GX 692 on
the registration plate and licence. There was nothing in any
way remarkable about its appearance, but when Jimmy
came to examine the interior, he made a curious discovery.
The cushion of the left-hand front seat—the one next to the
driver—was discoloured by a dark, irregular patch. Jimmy,
testing this patch with his finger-nail, dislogded a few par-
ticles of reddish-brown matter.
He drew the proprietor's attention to this disfigurement.
"Was this cushion stained like this when you sold the car?"
he asked.
"No, I'm sure it wasn't," the proprietor replied. "I noticed


66 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
particularly that all the upholstery was in very good condi-
tion. Mr. Cartmell must have done that somehow while he
owned the car."
"It couldn't have been done after the car was brought
back here last Tuesday?"
The proprietor shook his head. "Quite impossible," he
replied. "Mr. Cartmell drove the car into this lock-up him-
self. I turned the key before he left the garage and nobody
has opened it since. That stain must have been there when
Mr. Cartmell brought the car back, though I can't say I
noticed it then, for I didn't look inside."
Jimmy finished his examination of the car without dis-
covering anything else of interest. "We're very anxious to
get in touch with this Mr. Cartmell," he said. "We believe
that he can give us some information of which we are very
badly in need. I'm quite sure you will help us. If Mr. Cart-
mell comes in to fetch the car, keep him hanging about on
some excuse or other and tell the nearest policeman to ring
up Scotland Yard, Whitehall 1212."
The garage proprietor promised to do this. At Jimmy's
request he shut the lock-up again and gave him the key.
Armed with this, Jimmy left the garage.
His destination this time was Scotland Yard. He went
straight to his own room and proceeded to write a description
of both Cartmell and Pantony. Fortunately, in each case,
there were certain characteristics which were not likely to
be mistaken. Cartmell's queer dress, his flowing moustache
and his horn-rimmed spectacles. Pantony's harelip and de-
formed ear. For once, Jimmy thought, he had descriptions
which stood some chance of being recognized. Then he
turned to the notes he had made and from them compiled a
time-table of Cartmell's known movements. When com-
pleted the time-table was as follows:


JIMMY'S CASE
67
July 29th, 7 p.m. approximately. Cartmell appears at the
Passway Garage, inspects car GX 692, and pays deposit
upon it.
July 29th, 8 p.m. approximately. Cartmell engages a room
at 26 Mutley Street, leaves his suitcase there and goes away.
August 4th, 1 p.m. approximately. Cartmell reappears at
Mutley Street and collects his suitcase.
August 4th, 2 p.m. approximately. Cartmell reappears at
the Passway Garage, completes the purchase of the car, and
drives away.
August 4th, 6 p.m. approximately. Cartmell arrives at the
Green Bear, Fallowchurch, with the car and engages a room
there.
From this time until August 15th, Cartmell's movements
have not yet been accurately ascertained. He appears to have
spent most of his night at the Green Bear, but during the day-
time to have been absent upon unknown business.
August 17th. Cartmell is said to have travelled to London
by the 10.30 a.m. from Fallowchurch, and to have returned by
the train reaching Fallowchurch at 10.28 p.m. That Cartmell
actually visited London that day rests upon his statement
alone. There is no confirmation of this.
August 17th, 10.35 p.m. Cartmell enters the bar of the
Green Bear. He meets Pantony there and apparently ar-
ranges with him to take him away next day.
August 18th, 10.30 a.m. Cartmell meets Pantony in the bar
of the Green Bear. They drive off together in the car at ap-
proximately 11 a.m.
August 18th, 4 p.m. approximately. Pantony appears on the
premises of Messrs. Golder & Brown at Reading. He buys
and pays for a motor hearse with the registered number
ZZ 542. Note:—Nothing has been heard of Pantony since
this time.
August 18th, 10 p.m. approximately. Cartmell arrives at
the Passway Garage in car GX 692, He leaves the car there
and goes away, taking his suitcase.


68
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
August 19th. An unknown man, possibly Cartmell without
his disguise, giving the name of John Ambrose, calls at the
premises of Messrs. Golder & Brown. He produces the receipt
for the hearse and drives it away, having also bought a coffin.
August 20th, 5.30 a.m. approximately. The hearse is dis-
covered by Mr. Sidney Wedgwood standing outside the Green
Bear at Fallowchurch.
August 20th, 7.30 a.m. approximately. An unrecognizable
body possibly that of Pantony, is found by David Gurney, the
foreman of a road gang, in a tar boiler. This tar boiler is
standing by the roadside approximately two miles from Fal-
lowchurch in the direction of Dimbury.
Jimmy set to work to study this time-table. It seemed to
him that it could be made to fit in very well with the theory
which he had formed. According to this, Cartmell and
Pantony had reached Reading together in the Comet car.
Cartmell already knew from the advertisement in the Com-
mercial Motor that Messrs. Golder & Brown had a motor
hearse for sale. He prevailed upon Pantony, who was then
very much the worse for liquor, to purchase it in the name
of his brother-in-law.
So far all was plain sailing. But after this, Jimmy found
himself reduced to guesswork. What had happened between
four o'clock and ten o'clock on the afternoon of the 18th,
when Cartmell appeared at the Passway Garage?
One thing appeared quite certain. Sometime during that
period, Cartmell had murdered Pantony. Jimmy felt pretty
sure in his own mind that the matter which he had scraped
from the seat of Cartmell's car was congealed blood. Prob-
ably Cartmell and Pantony had left Reading together. Hav-
ing reached a sufficiently secluded spot, Cartmell had pulled
up and murdered Pantony. The motive doubtless being the
four hundred pounds which Pantony was carrying with him.


JIMMY'S CASE
69
Cartmell had then concealed the body and had driven the
car back to London.
This was the only possible explanation, but as Jimmy
saw for himself, it contained two weak points. It involved
the necessity for Cartmell having to conceal the body for
twenty-four hours at least. And bodies are notoriously dif-
ficult things to conceal. Then again, why had Cartmell been
so criminally careless about the blood on the seat? If he had
not been able to mop it up while it was still wet he might
have concealed the cushion with the body and prepared some
story to account for its disappearance. However, there were
the facts, and, as Jimmy told himself, he couldn't get away
from them.
The next day, Wednesday, presented fewer difficulties. On
August 19th, the day after the murder, Cartmell had changed
his appearance and gone to Reading. There he had collected
the hearse and coffin and had driven these to the spot where
the body was concealed. He had then transferred the body
to the coffin and driven towards Fallowchurch, timing his
arrival at the tar boiler for the early hours of the morning.
He had then flung the body into the boiler, relighted the
fire, and put a few shovelsful of grit into the coffin. Lastly,
he drove the hearse to Fallowchurch, left it outside the
Green Bear, and disappeared.
It was now late, past eleven o'clock, and there was noth-
ing more to be done, so Jimmy went home to his quarters.
Next morning, Saturday the 22 nd, he arrived early at the
Yard. His first act was to issue a description of Cartmell
and Pantony for circulation to the police in the counties of
Kent, Sussex, Surrey and Berkshire.
He then got into touch with the Home Office authorities,
regarding the stain on the seat of Cartmell's car, and handed
over to them the key of the lock-up at the Passway Garage.


70 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
He was just about to leave the Yard to catch a train back to
Fallowchurch when Superintendent Hanslet entered his
room.
"Hallo, Jimmy!" said the superintendent cheerfully.
"They told me you were here, so I thought I'd just look in
and see how you were getting on. By the way, I've got a
note from the professor asking us both to dine with him
to-night. What about it?"
Jimmy shook his head. "I'm afraid I'll have to cry off,"
he replied. "I've got an inquest at Fallowchurch this after-
noon, and work to do down there that'll keep me busy over
the week-end."
"Had any luck so far?" Hanslet asked.
"Not so bad, on the whole," Jimmy replied. "I've a pretty
good idea of what happened, anyhow. My chief difficulty at
the moment is that though I know who did it, I don't know
who the man is."
"What do you mean?" Hanslet demanded. "If you know
the man who did it you surely know who he is."
Jimmy laughed. "I'm sorry to be obscure, but it isn't al-
together easy to explain. If you've got ten minutes to spare,
I'd like to give you a short resume of the business."
"I can manage that," said Hanslet. "Carry on."
Jimmy ran rapidly through the facts of the case as he had
ascertained them. "I think you'll agree with me that Cart-
mell was a personality adopted for the purpose," he con-
tinued. "He did not exist before July 29th, and he ceased to
exist last Tuesday, very shortly after he had left his car at
the Passway Garage. My job now is to find out who assumed
this personality. I'd be very grateful for any helpful sug-
gestions."
"Your funeral, Jimmy, not mine," said Hanslet. "You
seem to have done jolly well so far. Stick to it, for if you


JIMMY'S CASE
71
lay your hands on this chap it'll be a fine feather in your
cap. I rather wish I'd taken on your job and left you the
diamond business."
"How are you getting on with that?" asked Jimmy.
"AhI" exclaimed Hanslet mysteriously. "That affair isn't
by any means clear yet. But unless every one concerned is
lying, and I don't think that they are, there's one possible
explanation. But I'm not going to give away my theory until
I've got a few more facts. I shall have quite a lot to talk to
the professor about this evening."
"You'll manage to find time to dine at Westbourne Ter-
race, then?"
"I'll make time somehow. And it's rather a pity you can't,
for if the professor happens to be in the mood to drop hints,
he'll be well worth listening to. Well, I won't keep you any
longer—you want to catch that train, I can see."
Jimmy reached Fallowchurch shortly before the inquest
opened upon the body found in the tar boiler. The proceed-
ings were brief and necessarily inconclusive. The doctors
concerned testified to the impossibility of identifying the
body. In their opinion, it was the body of a man, probably
between forty-five and sixty, well nourished and about five
feet eight inches tall. The bones were undamaged and showed
no signs of fracture. The internal organs appeared to be in a
healthy condition, and no sign of poison had been found.
But the external soft tissues had been burnt away to such an
extent that no report upon them was possible.
The coroner addressed his questions to the surgeon who
had carried out the post-mortem at his request. "Have you
been able to form any opinion as to the cause of the de-
ceased's death?"
"Under the circumstances this is impossible, but there are
certain deductions which can be drawn. In the first place,


72
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
very little of the tar or its vapour appears to have penetrated
to the lungs or the stomach. This would suggest that the de-
ceased was already dead when his body was thrown into the
boiler."
"Can you give the jury any idea of the time which elapsed
between deceased's death and the discovery of his body?"
"I would rather not express a definite opinion. All the
usual signs by which such a period is estimated have been
obliterated."
"The point is obviously of considerable importance," the
coroner insisted. "Is it possible, for instance, that the de-
ceased had been dead for a week or more before his body
was found?"
"In my opinion it is extremely unlikely. On the other
hand, certain appearances of the internal organs suggest that
he had been dead for at least several hours. Purely as a
matter of personal opinion and without wishing to influence
the jury in any way, I should limit the period in question
to about three days. That is, from the time of the deceased's
death to the time of my examination."
"Your examination took place yesterday, Friday morn-
ing. You think, then, that the deceased cannot have died
earlier than Tuesday morning?"
"That is my private belief. But I repeat once more that
no reliance should be placed upon it."
"Can you tell us anything further as to the possible cause
of death?"
"I can only enumerate the causes which appear unlikely.
The cause of death was certainly not a fractured skull, or
extensive internal injuries. It appears improbable that it
was a gun-shot wound, a deep incision, or poison in any
form. Beyond that I am not prepared to go."
Gurney told of the finding of the body and the position


JIMMY'S CASE
73
of the tar boiler. His evidence was confirmed by Sergeant
Playne. The coroner then addressed the jury. He suggested
that the evidence at present available made it impossible
for them to determine the identity of the deceased or the
cause of his death. He thought that no member of the jury
could have any doubt that deceased had met his death
through foul play. He was glad to know that the assistance
of Scotland Yard had been evoked and that an inspector
from the Criminal Investigation Department was in charge
of the case. Under the circumstances, his only course was to
adjourn the inquest for a week, at the end of which period
he hoped that further evidence would be forthcoming.
After the completion of these formalities, Jimmy returned
with the sergeant to the latter's house. Here he told him the
results of his investigation in London and the conclusions
that he had formed.
"I don't think there can be any reasonable doubt that
Cartmell murdered Pantony for his money and threw his
body into the tar boiler," he said. "But what is Cartmell's
real name, appearance and occupation? That's what we've
got to find out before we can start to track him down. He
won't come back to the Green Bear, that's quite certain.
But it's just possible that he's left a clue of some sort behind
him. I think we'd better go round there and search his room."
They walked across to the Green Bear and sought the
necessary permission from Mr. Wedgwood. He in turn, re-
ferred them to Mrs. Wedgwood, who was in charge of the
domestic details of the establishment.
Mrs. Wedgwood took them upstairs but held out no hope
that they would find anything. "I've been right through the
room already myself," she said. "You see, as Mr. Cartmell
said that he'd be away for three or four days, I thought it
was just my chance to give it a thorough turn out. And so I


74
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
did, that very Tuesday afternoon. And Mr. Cartmell had
taken everything of his away with him. I didn't find so much
as a collar stud."
"You found nothing unusual about the room at all, Mrs.
Wedgwood?" Jimmy asked.
The landlady shook her head. "Nothing at all," she replied
firmly. "Or at least nothing to speak of. One of the sheets
was missing off the bed and I can't find it anywhere. But
Mr. Cartmell wouldn't have taken it away with him. What
would he want to do such a thing for?"
"Did Mr. Cartmell bring much luggage with him when he
first came to you?"
"Only one suitcase, the one he took away with him on
Tuesday. And all I ever saw in that was shirts, underclothing
and the like."
"Did you ever do any washing for him, Mrs. Wedgwood?"
Again she shook her head. "No. I asked him when he'd
been here a day or two if he'd like me to, and he said that
he wouldn't think of troubling me. Anything he wanted
washed he'd take up to London when he went and bring down
a clean lot."
"Well, I think we'll have a look round his room all the
same," said Jimmy. "That is, if you've no objection, Mrs.
Wedgwood."
"I don't altogether like it," replied Mrs. Wedgwood
doubtfully. "I'll have to tell him as soon as he comes back
what you and the sergeant have been up to."
"Of course," said Jimmy gravely. "And if he cares to ask
us for an explanation, we shall be quite ready to give it.
Come along, sergeant."
But although they spent an hour or more examining every
crevice and cranny in the room, they found nothing what-
ever to reward them. Cartmell on his departure on the pre-


JIMMY'S CASE
75
ceding Tuesday had evidently been careful to remove every
trace of his tenancy.
But Jimmy refused to be cast down by this failure. "I
didn't expect anything else," he said to Playne. "But there's
another thing I've been thinking about. If you don't mind
I'll borrow that bicycle again, and we'll go out together and
have another look at the tar boiler."
The sergeant agreed to this, and they set out. They found
the tar boiler exactly as it had been left on Thursday morn-
ing, with a constable still on guard over it. Having satisfied
himself that nothing in the vicinity had been touched, Jim-
my unburdened himself to the sergeant.
"I've been trying to imagine what happens to things that
are kept for some time in boiling tar," he said. "We know
well enough by now what happens to a human body. But
what would happen to any clothes that body might be
wearing?"
Playne shook his head doubtfully. "I couldn't say, I'm
sure," he replied. "The boiling tar wouldn't do them any
good, you may be sure of that."
"It wouldn't do them any good, certainly, but would it
destroy all trace of them? I'm pretty sure it wouldn't. For
instance, it wouldn't destroy metal or bone buttons, or collar
studs or the nails of the boots, and what we're going to do
now is to see if we can find anything of the kind. Let's look
inside the boiler to begin with."
The boiler having been thrown upon its side, was by now
almost completely drained of tar. But a lump of something
still remained within it. With the help of a stick, Jimmy
drew this out. It turned out to be a piece of material of some
kind, rolled into a ball and thoroughly saturated with tar.
Jimmy laid this aside for future examination. Then they
proceeded to rake through the tar which had been run out


76
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
on the grass. At the end of a couple of hours of unremitting
work upon this, they had found nothing whatever, not even
a single button.
Not until Jimmy was thoroughly satisfied that every cubic
inch of the tar had been thoroughly examined, did they re-
turn to Fallowchurch. They took the lump of tar-soaked
material with them and, at Jimmy's suggestion, this was
plunged into a bucket of petrol. After considerable labour,
the original nature of the material was revealed. It had un-
doubtedly once been a cotton sheet.
"That's the sheet that's missing from the Green Bear, I'll
bet," said Jimmy. "I'm quite satisfied by now that the body
was unclothed when it was thrown into the boiler. It was
almost certainly merely wrapped in this sheet. Let's give it
another petrol bath and see if there is any sort of mark
upon it."
This time, their industry was rewarded. In one corner of
the sheet they found the name "Wedgwood" neatly printed
in marking ink.
"Well," said Jimmy, "I think that clinches the case
against Cartmell, whoever he may be, and I believe that
when the inquest reopens, we'll be able to convince the
coroner of the identity of the deceased. Now, we've just got
to slog along until we find some clue which will lead us to the
murderer's present whereabouts."


Part Two
Hanslet's Case


***********************
SUPERINTENDENT HANSLET WAS SUMMONED TO HIS CHIEF'S
room at Scotland Yard in the early afternoon of Thursday,
September 20th. As he entered the room, the Assistant Com-
missioner looked up.
“Good-afternoon, Hanslet,” he said. “You haven't any-
thing very important on at the moment, have you?”
“Well, I hadn't, sir,” Hanslet replied; "but there's a
message just come through from a place called Fallowchurch.
They've found a body there which seems to upset them a
bit and they want some one from the Yard to go down."
The Assistant Commissioner frowned. “That's a nuisance,”
he said. “You happen to be the only senior man available
just now. And I've got a job that can't be entrusted to just
anybody."
“There's Inspector Waghorn, sir,” Hanslet suggested. “He
could go down to Fallowchurch to make the preliminary in-
vestigations. And if there's anything in the affair, one of the
senior men could take it over later."
“That's a good idea," said the Assistant Commissioner.
“Young Waghorn can be trusted not to do anything foolish.
All right, go and see him and give him his orders. And when
you come back, I'll tell you about my job.”
Hanslet went out to return again within a few minutes.
“Now then, sit down and make yourself comfortable,"
said the Assistant Commissioner. “I'll tell you what I want


80
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
you to do. I've just had a trunk call from a man I know
slightly. I want to make it quite clear from the start that
he's no more than a club acquaintance, and that I know
nothing whatever about his circumstances or private affairs.
"This man's name is Sir Stanislaus Wherwell. He comes
of an old family and lives at Holmden Hall, near Swines-
head in Lincolnshire. Having heard what he had to say I
advised him to take the next train to London. He told me
that he would do so, and that he would arrive at King's Cross
at five minutes to six. I told him that I would send some-
body from here to meet him, and I want you to go."
"Very good, sir," Hanslet replied. "How am I to recognize
Sir Stanislaus?"
"He will wait just outside the ticket barrier until you go
up and speak to him. He is the owner of a very famous and
valuable set of diamonds, and, according to his statement,
these diamonds have gone astray.
"Naturally he could not go into any very great detail on
the telephone. But the facts, as I understand them, are these.
On the 15th of July last Wherwell himself brought the
diamonds to London and took them to the firm of Patton and
Fairfield in Hatton Garden. This firm was to value them and
advise upon certain alterations to the settings.
"Wherwell left the diamonds in charge of the firm, and
certain correspondence between him and them ensued. It was
eventually arranged that the senior partner of the firm, Mr.
Patton, should himself take the diamonds back to Holmden
Hall and discuss with Sir Stanislaus and Lady Wherwell
what was to be done with them.
"On Monday last, August 17th, Wherwell received a letter
from Patton. In this letter Patton said that he would come
to Holmden Hall with the diamonds on the following Wednes-
day, the 19th. That, of course, was yesterday. Patton said


HANSLET'S CASE
81
that he would leave King's Cross by the four o'clock train,
which arrives at Swineshead Station at 7.23 p.m. He asked
Wherwell if he would send his car to meet him there at that
time. Wherwell replied by wire that morning that he would
do so.
"Yesterday evening, then, Wherwell sent his car and
chauffeur to meet Patton at Swineshead Station at seven
twenty-three. But Patton apparently had failed to arrive.
The chauffeur, having ascertained that there was no other
train from London that night, went back to Holmden Hall
and reported.
"Wherwell supposed that something must have happened
to prevent Patton's journey. He could do nothing that night
and expected to have an explanation by post this morning.
Since he heard nothing then, he rang up Patton and Fair-
field's office to make inquiries. There he was told by the
chief clerk that, to his certain knowledge, Mr. Patton had
left with the diamonds at four o'clock the previous evening.
"Wherwell informed the local police and sent his car to
meet the morning train from London at Swineshead Station.
He could hear no news and at last, remembering his ac-
quaintanceship with me, he rang me up. And, as I say, I told
him that he'd better come up here straight away. From this
moment, it's up to you, Hanslet."
"I'll do my best, sir," the superintendent replied. "I would
be very grateful if you would tell me what you know about
Sir Stanislaus."
"Precious little. We happen to be members of the same
club, that's about all. I've heard of the diamonds, of course,
because they're by way of being famous. They came from
Russia originally, I believe, and have been in the family well
over a hundred years. Wherwell, I understand, is on the
local bench and interests himself in farming. I've heard that


82 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Holmden Hall is a fair-sized place with quite a lot of land
attached to it. And I've also heard that Wherwell finds it a
bit of a struggle to keep it up. But that, I want you to under-
stand, is merely gossip. There may be no truth in it what-
ever.
"In appearance Wherwell is not unlike a prosperous
farmer. The man I suppose is between fifty and sixty, with
a round clean-shaven face and hair that's going grey. He's
a biggish, powerfully built sort of chap. I should think he is
about six feet tall, and thick rather than stout. He's got a
hearty appetite and unless I misjudge him, a rather pro-
nounced fondness for whisky; he's not a man who's ever
attracted me very greatly. But on the other hand, there's
nothing about him that one would actively dislike. I'm
sorry I can't be more helpful."
"I'm much obliged to you for what you've told me, sir.
It's nearly half-past two now and you say that Sir Stanislaus
will not arrive at King's Cross before five minutes to six?
I think I'd better go and see these people in Hatton Garden
and hear what they've got to say."
"I rather thought that would be your first move," said
the Assistant Commissioner. "When you've met Wherwell,
you'd better bring him back here. I'll see him for a moment
and then leave him to your tender mercies."
Hanslet took a bus to the lower end of Hatton Garden
and then walked up that not very inspiring street. The offices
of Messrs. Patton and Fairfield, when he found them, turned
out to be no more impressive than those of their neighbours.
Hanslet wondered vaguely why people who dealt in such
brilliant things as diamonds preferred to do their business in
such gloomy surroundings.
He entered the inquiry office, produced his card and asked
if he might see one of the partners. He was informed that


HANSLET'S CASE
83
neither of them were in at the moment, but that he could see
Mr. McNaught, the chief clerk. A couple of minutes later,
he was ushered into that gentleman's presence.
Mr. McNaught was as Scotch as his name implied. He was
a man of between forty and fifty, tall, bony and red-haired.
He looked at Hanslet with an eye of disfavour. "And what
might your business be, superintendent?" he asked.
"I have been instructed to meet Sir Stanislaus Wherwell
at King's Cross at five minutes to six," Hanslet replied
quietly.
Mr. McNaught's face contracted in a frown. "I don't
know anything about Sir Stanislaus," he said shortly. "I'm
only the chief clerk here and Sir Stanislaus's business was
conducted entirely by the partners themselves."
"Who are the partners?" Hanslet asked.
"Mr. Edward Patton and Mr. Leslie Fairfield. Unfor-
tunately neither of them is here just now."
"Can you tell me where they are?"
McNaught eyed the superintendent askance. "Mr. Fair-
field is abroad and is not expected back in London until the
early part of next week," he replied.
"And Mr. Patton?" Hanslet asked innocently.
"Mr. Patton left London yesterday afternoon," McNaught
replied stolidly. "He told me that he expected to be back
in the office some time to-day."
This very cautious fencing began to get on Hanslet's
nerves. "Look here, Mr. McNaught, we're wasting one an-
other's time," he said. "The police have received information
that Mr. Patton left London yesterday with certain very
valuable articles in his possession and has not been heard of
since. Are you in a position to confirm or deny that report?"
"I can only say what I have already said," McNaught re-
plied doggedly. "Mr. Patton left King's Cross by the four


84
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
o'clock train yesterday afternoon. Since then I have seen or
heard nothing of him. I received a telephone message this
morning from somebody who said he was Sir Stanislaus
Wherwell. That telephone message informed me that Mr.
Patton had not then reached his ostensible destination, which
was Holmden Hall. If this is actually a fact, I am wholly
unable to account for it."
"You are aware of the object of Mr. Patton's journey?"
"I am only aware of what Mr. Patton told me about that
journey. On Tuesday morning last, he informed me that on
the following day, Wednesday, he would personally return
certain diamonds, the property of Sir Stanislaus Wherwell,
to their owner."
"You knew that the diamonds were then in possession of
the firm?"
"Certainly. In the course of my duties, I had learnt that
Sir Stanislaus had brought them here in person. From time
to time since then, various dealers and others have called here
to inspect them."
"Why did these people come and inspect the diamonds?"
"I really could not say," McNaught replied dryly. "I do
not even know why the diamonds were entrusted to the firm's
keeping."
"You say that the diamonds were in the firm's custody
from the time Sir Stanislaus Wherwell brought them here
until yesterday afternoon. Were they on the premises the
whole of that time?"
"Certainly not. They were deposited with the London and
Kensington Bank, at their Holborn branch. When an ap-
pointment had been made for their inspection, either Mr.
Patton or myself went to the bank and drew them from the
strong-room. As soon as the inspection was over, the dia-


HANSLET'S CASE
85
monds were returned to the bank. They were finally with-
drawn from the bank yesterday afternoon at three o'clock."
"Who withdrew them?"
"Mr. Patton and myself. Just before three o'clock Mr.
Patton called me into his room and gave me my instructions.
We walked to the bank, which is only a short distance from
here, and were shown into the manager's room. At our re-
quest, the diamonds were taken from the strong-room and
examined by Mr. Patton and myself in the manager's pres-
ence. Mr. Patton then gave the manager a receipt for them."
"What happened then?" Hanslet asked.
"Some time ago Mr. Patton had a special satchel made
in which to carry valuables. It was his own idea and he be-
lieved that it afforded the utmost security. The satchel was
made of leather with a pair of strong locks. It was lined in-
side with fine steel mail, proof against slashing with a knife.
It had in addition a steel chain by which it could be attached
to a belt which Mr. Patton wore round his waist when he
was carrying the satchel.
"Having satisfied himself that the diamonds were all there,
Mr. Patton replaced them in their case and put this case in
his satchel. He then chained the satchel to his belt. You will
understand that the belt, being worn underneath his coat,
was invisible and that the chain was of sufficient length for
him to be able to carry the satchel at arm's length without
inconvenience.
"Meanwhile one of the bank clerks had summoned a taxi.
As soon as we were informed that the taxi was at the door,
Mr. Patton and I took our leave of the manager and left the
bank. We entered the taxi and drove back here. Mr. Patton
remained in the vehicle while I got out, went to his room and
fetched a suitcase which he had left there that morning. I


86
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
then rejoined Mr. Patton in the taxi."
"How long did it take you to fetch the suitcase?" Hanslet
asked.
"Perhaps two minutes, certainly not more. I am not aware
of the contents of the suitcase. But Mr. Patton had told me
that he intended to spend the night at Holmden Hall, and I
presume it contained the clothes that he would require dur-
ing his visit.
"As I re-entered that taxi, I told the driver to take us to
King's Cross Station. He did so, and we reached the terminus
without incident. I handed the suitcase to a porter, telling
him to remain with Mr. Patton in the entrance hall. I then
went to the booking office and bought a first-class return
ticket to Swineshead, for which I paid the sum of twenty-
nine shillings. I returned to where Mr. Patton was standing
and gave him the ticket. The porter told us that the train was
already standing at the platform and the three of us went to
it together. We found an empty first-class non-smoking
carriage and Mr. Patton took his seat in this. The porter put
his suitcase on the rack and then went away. I remained
talking to Mr. Patton until the train started. When I last
saw Mr. Patton he was sitting in a corner seat with his back
to the engine and the satchel resting on his knee."
"Could you identify the suitcase and the satchel if you
saw them again, Mr. McNaught?"
"I could certainly identify the satchel, for I imagine it to
be unique. The suitcase, I noticed, was nearly new. It was
made of brown leather with Mr. Patton's initials, E.P.,
stamped on the lid in black."
"Mr. Patton had told you that he intended to spend the
night at Holmden Hall? Did he tell you when he expected to
return here?"
"He told me that he hoped to return by the first train this


HANSLET'S CASE
87
morning which leaves Swineshead at 9.30 a.m. and gets to
King's Cross at 1.03 p.m. In the absence of his partner, Mr.
Fairfield, Mr. Patton's time is fully occupied and he did
not wish to be away from London longer than he could help."
"According to Sir Stanislaus Wherwell, Mr. Patton never
arrived at Swineshead yesterday evening. Can you offer any
explanation of this?"
McNaught shook his head. "I can offer no explanation
whatever," he replied. "It is most unlikely that Mr. Patton
changed his mind once he had started on his journey. Per-
haps when you meet Sir Stanislaus he will be able to throw
some light upon it."
Hanslet could not mistake the significance in the chief
clerk's tone.
"What's your idea, Mr. McNaught?" he asked quickly.
"I have already told you that I have no idea. Sir Stanis-
laus is a client of the firm and it is not for me to throw any
doubt upon his sincerity. But so far as I am aware, we only
have his word for it that Mr. Patton did not arrive at Swines-
head yesterday evening."
McNaught, having overcome his first reticence, was be-
coming quite communicative. Hanslet resolved to take ad-
vantage of this.
"That's a very interesting suggestion," he replied. "Now,
entirely between ourselves, Mr. McNaught, can you suggest
any reason why Sir Stanislaus should have entrusted the
diamonds to your firm for a period?"
"I don't know, but I can guess," said Mr. McNaught. "It's
the business of diamond merchants to buy and sell, you
know. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that Sir Stanislaus,
finding himself hard up, had decided to sell the famous
Wherwell diamonds. That would account for the dealers
who came here from time to time to inspect them."


88
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"But if Mr. Patton had been commissioned to sell them
he would have done so instead of returning them to Sir
Stanislaus, surely?"
McNaught shook his head. "It isn't always as simple as
all that," he replied. "Diamonds aren't as valuable as they
used to be, or as their owners in most cases still think they
are. I daresay Sir Stanislaus has an exaggerated idea of the
present value of the Wherwell diamonds. In which case he
might have put a prohibitive reserve upon them. I know
that he has them insured for a hundred and fifty thousand
pounds. And I don't suppose they'd fetch a third of that in
the open market."
"Have you informed Mr. Patton's partner of what has
happened?"
"Mr. Fairfield went abroad on the Thursday before Bank
Holiday, and I'm not sure of his present address. He is
moving from place to place and he does not tell us in ad-
vance where he will be on any particular date. He sent us a
telegram from Brussels about a week ago, telling us where
to communicate with him there if we wished. But I do not
know how long he was staying there. And I don't think Mr.
Patton knows either."
"Is Mr. Fairfield abroad on business or pleasure?"
"He is, I expect, combining both. He always takes a
month's holiday at this time of year and usually goes abroad.
But he takes the opportunity of calling upon some of the
leading Continental diamond merchants."
"Can you tell me anything of Mr. Patton's circumstances?
Where he lives and so forth?"
"Mr. Patton is a widower with no children. His wife died,
I believe, after they'd only been married a few months and
he never married again. He has a flat in Great Portland Place,
where his niece, Miss Edna Patton, lives with him."


HANSLET'S CASE
89
"Have you made inquiries there, by any chance?"
"After my conversation with Sir Stanislaus on the tele-
phone this morning, I rang up Miss Patton. I did not tell
her that her uncle was reported not to have arrived at Swines-
head. I merely asked her if she had heard anything from him
regarding the time of his return. I gave as a pretext that one
of his customers had asked me to arrange an appointment
with him. Miss Patton replied that she had heard nothing
from her uncle since he left the flat yesterday morning."
"Can you describe Mr. Patton's appearance?"
"He is fifty-four years old. Seeing him for the first time
you'd hardly take him for that, for he has a round, rather
chubby face, which gives the impression of youthfulness.
Between ourselves, superintendent, he does his best to en-
courage that impression, for he dyes his hair. It was turning
grey over the temples some years ago, but now it's as black
as ever it was or blacker."
"Any other special characteristics?" Hanslet asked.
"It's very difficult to describe anybody, even though you
may have seen them nearly every day of your life for the
last twenty years. And there's nothing particularly striking
about Mr. Patton's appearance. As I say, he's got a round,
rather boyish face, clean-shaven and with grey eyes. Snub
nose and rather a long upper lip. He's of medium height
and his bones are pretty well covered. I don't mean that he's
noticeably stout, but I think that one might call him plump.
He likes to do himself well and he doesn't take much exer-
cise. He always seems perfectly well, and I should think he
has a pretty good constitution. But I shouldn't think that
he is really a strong man, in the muscular sense at all
events."
"What clothes was he wearing when you saw him off
yesterday afternoon?"


90 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"A dark-grey suit, black shoes and a grey felt hat. Over
his suit he was wearing a light raincoat. And of course, under
his coat he had that belt I spoke about which is of black
leather with a steel ring for the chain of the satchel."
"I suppose there isn't by any chance a photograph of him
about the place?"
"I'm afraid we don't go in for photographs in this office.
Wait a minute, though. I wonder!"
"You've got an idea, Mr. McNaught?" Hanslet suggested.
"Yes, but I'm not sure what Mr. Patton would say to it.
It's like this. Both Mr. Patton and Mr. Fairfield often have
to go abroad at very short notice. And I happen to know
that Mr. Patton always keeps his passport in a drawer in his
desk in case he wants it in a hurry."
"There'll be a photograph in the passport," said Hanslet.
"Yes, I know. But I'm wondering whether I should be
justified in looking for it. Mr. Patton wouldn't like the idea
of me rummaging amongst his things. Still, if his desk is
unlocked, I know exactly where to lay my hands on the
passport."
"It's worth having a look, I think. If by any chance, any-
thing has happened to Mr. Patton, it's up to us to do any-
thing we can to help him."
"Yes, that's true," McNaught agreed. "I'll take you along
to his room if you like, superintendent."
It turned out that Mr. Patton's room was next door to
the one in which they were sitting. On opening the door they
found everything in order. The most conspicuous pieces of
furniture were a massive mahogany bureau and a fair-sized
safe. McNaught went up to the bureau and pulled gingerly
at the handle of one of the drawers.
"It isn't locked," he said. "But I don't know whether I
ought."


HANSLET'S CASE
91
"I think I'd risk it," Hanslet urged him. "A photograph
of Mr. Patton would be of the greatest use to me, you know."
McNaught overcame his scruples and opened the drawer.
He rummaged among the few papers it contained and then
turned to the superintendent.
"The passport isn't here, after all," he said.
"Perhaps it's in one of the other drawers," Hanslet sug-
gested.
But McNaught shook his head. "If it isn't in this drawer,
it's not in the office at all," he replied. "Mr. Patton is a most
methodical man. He's very particular that everything should
be kept in its proper place. He's very fond of saying that
more time is wasted in most offices looking for things than
in actual work."
"Well, it can't be helped, Mr. McNaught," said Hanslet.
"I'm very much obliged to you for the information you've
given me. If you have any news of Mr. Patton I shall be
grateful if you will ring me up at the Yard and let me know.
Good-afternoon."
He left the offices of Messrs. Patton and Fairfield and took
a bus to King's Cross. It was barely five o'clock when he
reached the station and he had time for a few preliminary
inquiries before Wherwell's train came in.
At the stationmaster's office he sought information as to
the four o'clock train to Swineshead. He learnt that this train
was actually an express to the north. Passengers for Swines-
head would have to change at Grantham. The train reached
that junction at six-two.
"Is there any stop between King's Cross and Grantham?"
Hanslet asked.
"Yes," replied the clerk who was dealing with his in-
quiries. "There is a three-minute stop at Peterborough from
five twenty-four to five twenty-seven."


92
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"What about the connexion from Grantham to Swines-
head?"
"A train leaves Grantham for Boston at six thirty-six. It
stops at all stations except Barkston and reaches Swineshead
at seven twenty-three."
"So that passengers for Swineshead by that train have to
wait thirty-four minutes at Grantham? From six-two to six
thirty-six?"
The clerk nodded. "Yes, that's right," he replied.
Hanslet made a note of these times. Then he asked that
inquiries should be made along the line for a satchel and a
suitcase, both of which he described to the best of his ability.
He also asked if it was possible to check the surrender of a
first-class ticket from King's Cross to Swineshead and was
told that this could be done. The clerk promised to have the
necessary inquiries made and to report the result to Scotland
Yard. He also promised to try and find the porter who had
taken Mr. Patton's suitcase on the previous day.
Hanslet then went to the barrier to await the arrival of the
five fifty-five. The train came in and a crowd of passengers
descended from it. Most of them gave up their tickets at the
barrier and went about their business. But one man, having
given up his ticket, stepped aside a couple of paces and waited
expectantly.
Hanslet recognized him at once from the Assistant Com-
missioner's description. He went up to him.
"Sir Stanislaus Wherwell, I believe," he said.
The man, who had not noticed Hanslet's approach, turned
round sharply. "Yes, that's right," he replied. "You're from
the Yard, I suppose?"
"I am Superintendent Hanslet. The Assistant Commis-
sioner instructed me to come here and meet you. He would
like to see you himself."


94
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"Was your renewed friendship with Mr. Patton merely a
business one?"
"We certainly talked business whenever we met. But I'm
bound to admit that we talked about a lot of other things be-
sides. I spent a week in London when I brought the diamonds
up, and we saw quite a lot of one another. He asked me to
dine at his flat in Portland Place, and a very good dinner he
gave me. I returned the compliment by asking him to my club
and he seemed to enjoy it; and it was arranged that he should
come and spend the night or longer if he could spare the time
at Holmden Hall whenever he cared to arrange it."
"Mr. Patton was to have stayed with you last night,
wasn't he?"
"He was, and it was his own suggestion. He wrote to me
telling me that he would be bringing the diamonds back yes-
terday, but that he could not get away until the afternoon.
I've got my letter in my pocket now, if you care to see it."
"I think we had better wait till we get to the Yard," Hans-
let replied. "We shall be there in a couple of minutes."
On their arrival at Scotland Yard, Hanslet escorted Wher-
well to the presence of the Assistant Commissioner. After
they had greeted one another, the Assistant Commissioner as-
sured his visitor that he would do everything in his power to
trace the missing diamonds. "You may rely upon me, Wher-
well, to take a personal interest in the affair," he said. "Natu-
rally, I can't undertake the investigation myself, but I've
done the next best thing for you. Superintendent Hanslet is
the very man to get to the bottom of this business. He'll take
you to his room now and you can have a confidential chat
about it. And if there's anything that I can do for you, don't
hesitate to ask."
Once they were comfortably settled in the superintendent's
room, Hanslet resumed his questions. "You were going to


HANSLET'S CASE
95
show me the letter you received from Mr. Patton," he said.
Wherwell produced a folded sheet of paper which he
handed to the superintendent. "That's it," he said. "You can
read it for yourself."
The letter was typed upon the headed notepaper of Messrs.
Patton and Fairfield and was dated August 15th. This, of
course, was the previous Saturday. The wording of the letter
was as follows:
Dear Wherwell,—I quite agree that under the circum-
stances, the best course will be for me to return the diamonds
to you, at least for the present. Since you say that you will be
unable to come to London during the next few days, I will
myself bring the diamonds to Holmden Hall. You will remem-
ber that you were kind enough to suggest that I should take
an opportunity of spending a night with you there. If con-
venient to you and Lady Wherwell, I will do so when I return
the diamonds, and we can then, perhaps, discuss our future
policy concerning them.
In the absence from London of my partner, Mr. Fairfield,
my time is fully occupied and I can afford to pay you no more
than the shortest of visits. Wednesday afternoon will suit me
best for the return of the diamonds. I suggest that I should
leave King's Cross by the four o'clock train on that day, the
19th. There is a connexion to Swineshead which reaches that
station at 7.23 p.m. Perhaps you will arrange to have me met
there.
I should be glad to know as soon as possible whether this
arrangement will suit you.
Yours sincerely,
The letter was signed in a bold hand,
Edward Patton
"That sounds straightforward enough, doesn't it," said
Wherwell, when Hanslet had finished his perusal of the letter.


HANSLET'S CASE
97
the sense to look into all the first-class carriages in case Pat-
ton should not have realized that he had reached his destina-
tion. He is absolutely certain that there was nobody in any of
them in the least resembling Patton.
"Maple's next move was to consult the stationmaster who,
of course, knows him well. The natural assumption was that
Patton had missed his train and would come on by the next.
But the stationmaster assured Maple that there was no next—
at least not that evening. The four o'clock was the last train
by which it was possible to reach Swineshead from London,
except on Saturdays. Having found this out, Maple returned
to Holmden Hall to get my instructions.
"I was amazed when I heard that Patton hadn't turned up.
In all my dealings with him, I had found him a man of extraor-
dinary punctuality. It was of course, possible that something
unforseen had caused him to miss his train, but in that case
he would certainly have communicated with me. He would
probably have sent a telegram which would have reached me
in a couple of hours at most. I spent a very anxious evening
expecting every moment to hear something. I consoled myself
with the thought that I should get a letter by the first post this
morning. When nothing came from Patton then, I put a call
through to his office. A man who told me that his name was
McNaught and that he was the chief clerk, answered me. He
assured me that he had himself seen Patton off by the four
o'clock train from King's Cross yesterday afternoon. But of
course, the man may be lying for some purpose of his own."
"Steps have already been taken to verify his statement,"
said Hanslet.
"Well, if it turns out to be true, I simply can't understand
it. If Patton left King's Cross at four o'clock, there was noth-
ing on earth to prevent him from arriving at Swineshead at
seven twenty-three. It's ridiculous to suppose that he can have


98
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
been robbed and murdered in the train in broad daylight."
Hanslet was about to reply when his telephone bell rang.
"Excuse me one moment, Sir Stanislaus," he said, as he put
the receiver to his ear. "Yes, Superintendent Hanslet speak-
ing. Very well, put him through." A few seconds' pause, dur-
ing which Hanslet listened to the message. Then the super-
intendent's voice, "Yes. . . . Yes. . . . I'm very glad to
hear that. . . . Yes. Under the circumstances, I should
strongly recommend you to do so. You will let me know when
he arrives? Thank you very much. Good-bye."
Hanslet put down the instrument and turned once more to
Wherwell.
"I must apologize for the interruption," he said. "In the
course of your dealings with the firm, did you ever meet Mr.
McNaught, the chief clerk, who spoke to you on the telephone
this morning?"
"Not to my knowledge," Wherwell replied. "I may have
seen him about the place, but the only people I've actually
talked to there are Patton and his partner, Fairfield."
"Mr. Fairfield, I understand, is at present abroad?"
"So I gathered from Patton's letter. In fact, Fairfield told
me when I last saw him that he was on the point of going
abroad for his holidays. He struck me as being a very good
fellow. A good deal younger than Patton, but I should imag-
ine a very keen business man. Patton thinks very highly of
him, I know. He told me that he thought himself extremely
lucky to have found such an energetic partner. I gather that
they've been in partnership for ten years or more now."
"Would it be indiscreet, Sir Stanislaus, to ask you why you
entrusted the diamonds to the care of Messrs. Patton and
Fairfield?"
It seemed to Hanslet that Wherwell frowned slightly at
this question. At all events, he hesitated a second or two before


HANSLET'S CASE
99
replying.
"Well, you see, the diamonds are not much use to any one
as they are. Nobody wears that heavy old-fashioned sort of
jewellery nowadays. So my wife and I thought that they might
be reset in a more modern fashion. Of course, we had to take
expert advice before doing anything of the kind. For all we
knew any resetting might diminish their value. But after
we'd talked about it a bit I remembered my old school-fellow
Patton. As I told you, I made inquiries and found out where
he was. So I wrote to him and asked his advice. He replied
that he would have to see the diamonds again before he could
give an opinion. So I told him that I would bring them up to
him and show them to him, and I did."
"Mr. Patton gave you an opinion in due course, I suppose?"
Again Wherwell looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Oh,
yes," he replied. "He told me that he had had several experts
to see them and that they all agreed that it would not be ad-
visable to reset the stones. That explains his last letter to me,
you see. I wrote and told him that if the diamonds were not
going to be reset, I had better have them back as they were.
He agreed to this and said that he'd bring them back himself.
But all that's ancient history now. The point is, what are we
going to do about it?"
Hanslet smiled. "We're going to make every effort to trace
the present whereabouts of Mr. Patton and the diamonds,"
he replied. "In fact, the investigations started immediately
your telephone message was received. What are your own
plans, Sir Stanislaus?"
"I am entirely at your disposal," Wherwell replied.
"Then I think it will be best for you to arrange to stay in
London for a day or two. I may find it necessary to consult
you at short notice."
"Then I'll put up at my club. You'll always be able to catch


100
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
me there. I needn't ask you to let me know the minute you
have any news."
Hanslet promised to keep Wherwell informed of any de-
velopments and then escorted him from the building.
He then returned to his own room, to make a note of the
telephone message which had interrupted their conversation.
The caller had been Mr. McNaught, who told him that he had
received a telegram from Mr. Fairfield announcing his arrival
in Paris. McNaught had suggested that he should wire,Mr-.
Fairfield to return to London as soon as possible, and the
Superintendent had concurred in this. McNaught had then
promised that as soon as Mr. Fairfield reached London, he
would let Hanslet know.
Hanslet, considering the accounts which he had heard,
thought that an interview with Mr. Fairfield would be very en-
lightening. Fairfield knew all the persons concerned more or
less intimately, and since he had been abroad at the time of
Mr. Patton's disappearance, he might be considered an im-
partial witness. And Hanslet felt that an impartial witness was
the very thing he needed.
For he was not by any means satisfied with the bona fides
of any of the present actors. McNaught had not impressed
him very favourably. There was something furtive about the
man's manner. He somehow gave the impression of telling
the truth, but not the whole truth. At present there was no
confirmation of his story that Mr. Patton had left King's
Cross by the four o'clock train. And upon the actual fact of
that departure the whole matter hung.
Wherwell's account of the affair had been apparently
straightforward and freely given. He had produced Mr. Pat-
ton's letter in support of his own story. But his manner had
changed as soon as Hanslet had asked why the diamonds had
been deposited with Messrs. Patton and Fairfield. He had


HANSLET'S CASE
101
produced a plausible enough reason, it was true. But was it
the true reason? It seemed to him that McNaught's conjecture
was nearer the mark. And if Wherwell was capable of making
a false statement in one respect he might be capable of doing
so in others.
Finally there was Mr. Patton himself. If it was confirmed
that he had actually left King's Cross by the four o'clock
train, what had happened to him subsequently? Wherwell
had said that it was ridiculous to suppose that he could have
been robbed and murdered. And in that respect at least Wher-
well had been perfectly right. If anything of the kind had
happened, his body must certainly have been found by now.
The murder must have taken place either in the train or dur-
ing the wait at Grantham. Apart from the difficulty of hiding
the body under such circumstances, it was impossible to imag-
ine such a crime being committed in broad daylight.
Then there was the rather peculiar instance of the passport.
Hanslet realized that this rested entirely upon McNaught's
statement. But supposing McNaught to have been stating the
truth, the facts were these. Patton habitually kept his pass-
port in one particular drawer in his desk. It was not there
now. The natural inference was that Patton had taken it with
him. But why should he have done so when his express inten-
tion was to travel no further than Holmden Hall and to return
next day?
Hanslet went home to dinner to meditate upon the case. His
first visit on the following morning, Friday, was to King's
Cross. And there, in the stationmaster's office, he acquired
some very interesting information.
Only one first-class return ticket to Swineshead had been
issued at the King's Cross booking office during Wednesday.
This ticket was numbered 4173 and bore the date August
19th. The outward half of this ticket had been surrendered


102
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
at Grantham on the same date. The return half had not yet
been given up at King's Cross.
The porter had been found, and was prepared to confirm
McNaught's statement up to a point. "The man's in the sta-
tion now," said the stationmaster's clerk. "I'll send for him,
if you like, and you can talk to him yourself."
The porter was sent for and Hanslet questioned him. He
remembered perfectly well the arrival of two gentlemen in a
taxi on the previous Wednesday between half-past three and
a quarter to four. He remembered the incident because of a
peculiar-looking satchel which one of the gentlemen carried.
"I took the suitcase in one hand, sir," said the porter, "and
I put out my other hand to take the satchel from the gentle-
man. But he wouldn't let me have it. He said he would look
after it himself. And then I saw that there was a chain fixed
to it but I couldn't see the other end of the chain. I stayed
with this gentleman in the entrance hall while the other gen-
tleman went to the booking-office to buy a ticket. Then one of
them told me that he wanted a seat in a first-class non-smoker
in the four o'clock for Swineshead. I found an empty compart-
ment and the gentleman with the satchel got in. I put the
suitcase in the rack above his head and told him that he'd have
to change at Grantham. He thanked me and gave me a bob and
that's the last I saw of them."
"You can't be certain that the gentleman with the satchel
was actually in the train when it went out?" Hanslet asked.
"No, I can't be certain of that, for after I'd got my tip, I
went away to look for another job. But I happened to be on the
platform just after the train pulled out and I saw the other
gentleman walk away by himself."
"Did you happen to notice if he was carrying anything?"
"I didn't notice that he was. But then I didn't pay any
particular attention to him."


104
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
well within the stipulated time. On his arrival at the office,
he was immediately introduced into the presence of Mr.
Fairfield. The latter was a man of between forty and forty-
five, tall, well set-up and square-shouldered. He was clean-
shaven with closely cut fair hair. Hanslet particularly noticed
his eyes, which were keen and penetrating, and his resolute
chin.
"Sit down, superintendent," said Fairfield briskly. "From
what McNaught tells me, we've got to work shoulder to"
shoulder in this affair. I can't offer you a cigarette, for I never
smoke the things. But if you'd care for a cigar, I've got some
pretty decent ones here."
"Thanks very much, Mr. Fairfield," Hanslet replied, "if
you don't mind I shall be very much happier with my pipe."
"Go ahead," said Fairfield. "Now, to begin with, I'd better
introduce myself. My name is Leslie Fairfield, my age is
forty-two, and I am a junior partner in this firm. I joined Mr.
Patton about ten years ago, and I think I may say that he
and I have worked in perfect harmony ever since.
"For the last three or four years I have always taken a
holiday for a month or so in July or August. I am not married
and consequently my leisure is my own. A holiday without
any sort of object has never appealed to me. I like poking
about the old continental cities as well as any one, but at the
same time I like to have a secondary object to my journey.
You will understand that our firm is in close touch with all
the leading continental diamond merchants. This year I
started my holiday on July 30th, and in the course of 4t I
called upon several of these, not necessarily with a view to
immediate business. It seemed to me a gesture of politeness
which costs neither me nor the firm anything.
"It has always been understood between Patton and my-
self that when one is away on holiday the other does not


HANSLET'S CASE
105
trouble him with unnecessary correspondence. Consequently,
during the last few weeks, I have not troubled to keep in
constant touch with the office. As I daresay McNaught has
already told you, I have reported my whereabouts by tele-
gram at intervals of roughly a week. The idea was that if any
emergency arose the firm could get hold of me with very little
delay. I'll admit that I never anticipated so grave an emer-
gency as this.
"A week or so ago I was in Brussels where I called upon
a business acquaintance of ours. I notified Patton of my pres-
ence there, and received from him a wire to the effect that
he had nothing special to report. From Brussels I set off on a
very leisurely tour through the Ardennes to the French fron-
tier and eventually turned up in Paris yesterday afternoon.
"My first business on arriving in Paris, was to send Pat-
ton a wire. I rather expected to receive a reply from him ask-
ing me to call on a business friend of ours there. Before I left
London there had been some talk of a deal between us and I
thought the time would now be ripe for me to call upon him.
Instead of which I got a wire from McNaught. 'Grave news
return as soon as possible.'
"McNaught is not the sort to panic over trifles, and I knew
that if he used the expression 'grave news' something pretty
serious must have happened. So I wasted no time, but caught
the eight o'clock train from the Gare St. Lazare and travelled
back by way of Havre and Southampton. I reached Waterloo
at nine o'clock this morning and took a taxi straight here,
where I found McNaught who told me the most extraordinary
story I've ever heard in my life. You understand, superin-
tendent, that I am entirely at your disposal. As you must see
for yourself, it's a matter of vital importance to the firm that
this business should be cleared up with the least possible
delay."


106
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"I quite appreciate that, Mr. Fairfield," Hanslet replied.
"And I'm very much obliged to you for your very lucid state-
ment. I'm sorry to say that up to the present I have no news
for you beyond that which Mr. McNaught must have given
you. You won't mind if I begin by asking a lot of questions,
I hope?"
"Not in the least," Fairfield replied readily. "And you may
be sure that I'll do my best to answer them."
"To begin with, then, have you every confidence in your
office staff, and especially in McNaught?"
"There is nobody in the place who has not been with us
for several years and proved himself entirely trustworthy.
McNaught started as an office boy in old Mr. Patton's time,
and has risen to the position of chief clerk. Both Patton and I
have regarded him as a model of reliability. If he has a fault,
it is a certain reluctance to act on his own responsibility. As
I told him just now, he should have informed the police yes-
terday, as soon as he had the telephone call from Wherwell."
"What did he say to that?" Hanslet asked.
"His reply was characteristic; he said that he didn't think
Mr. Patton would like him to do that without the sanction
of either of the partners."
"He has told you, no doubt, that he accompanied Mr.
Patton to the bank when the diamonds were withdrawn on
Wednesday afternoon, and that he subsequently saw him off
at King's Cross? Do you find anything surprising in his state-
ment?"
"Nothing whatever. Every detail is exactly what I should
have expected. I daresay you remember the Cafe Monico
pearl robbery of some years ago. Since that time we folks take
care not to be alone when we are carrying valuables about
with us."
"Yet Mr. Patton intended to travel alone from King's Cross


HANSLET'S CASE
107
to Swineshead?"
"Oh, a corridor train is safe enough, at least during the
hours of daylight. McNaught tells me that Patton had ar-
ranged for Wherwell to meet him with his car at Swineshead."
"Sir Stanislaus, according to his own account, did not meet
the train himself, but sent his chauffeur. You are personally
acquainted with him, Mr. Fairfield, I believe?"
"I met him for the first time when he brought the diamonds
to us just before I went on holiday. He is an old school-friend
of Patton's and he selected our firm to do his business for him
on the strength of that."
"What exactly was the nature of that business, Mr. Fair-
field?"
"Why, don't you know?" exclaimed Fairfield in surprise.
"He wanted us to sell the famous Wherwell diamonds for
him. Patton and I examined them thoroughly together, and
Patton, who can tell you the value of any diamond to the near-
est farthing, told him that he thought he could get him an
offer of seventy thousand pounds.
"This was a bit of a blow to Wherwell. He told us that the
family had always understood that they were worth a hundred
and fifty thousand, and that they were at present insured for
that amount. I think he thought that we were trying to get
them cheap. Patton told him pretty straight that if he didn't
believe him, he'd better take them somewhere else and get
another opinion. In the end he came to an arrangement with
us. The diamonds were to remain here—or rather in our bank
—for a bit, and Patton would invite various people who might
be interested to have a look at them. If any offer above a hun-
dred thousand was made we were to let Wherwell know at
once. And that was how the matter stood when I went away."
"You don't of course know what happened subsequently?"
"I don't suppose that anybody but Patton knows.


108
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
McNaught tells me that several people in the business have
seen the diamonds. What offers they made, if any, of course,
he doesn't know. That would be a purely confidential matter
between them and Patton. But I'm willing to gamble upon
Patton's valuation. If he said seventy thousand that's just
about the figure the stones would fetch. I've got the copy of
Patton's last letter to Wherwell here. Would you like to
see it?"
"I've already seen the original, but I should like to see if it
corresponds exactly with the copy," Hanslet replied.
Fairfield produced the carbon copy of the letter which
Wherwell had shown to Hanslet. The two corresponded ex-
actly.
"There's a previous letter from Patton to Wherwell written
a few days earlier," said Fairfield. "In it Patton says that
he has been unable to obtain an offer anywhere approaching
the sum named, namely one hundred thousand pounds. He
therefore asked Wherwell for his instructions as to the dis-
posal of the diamonds. Wherwell replied rather huffily that
he couldn't accept anything less than a hundred thousand and
that the diamonds had better be returned to him. The letter
you have just read completes the correspondence, except for
a wire and a letter from Wherwell agreeing to Patton's sugges-
tion as to the method of their return."
Hanslet decided at this stage to take Fairfield into his con-
fidence. "There is one very puzzling point in this affair," he
said. "I think there's little doubt that Mr. Patton reached
Grantham on Wednesday afternoon. But he did not continue
his journey from there to Swineshead by train. The ticket
which McNaught bought for him at King's Cross—a first-
class ticket from King's Cross to Swineshead—was surren-
dered at Grantham on Wednesday. Can you suggest any ex-
planation of that curious fact?"


HANSLET'S CASE
109
Fairfield glanced keenly at the superintendent, but made no
immediate reply. "I can think of a possible explanation, but
it doesn't sound very plausible," he replied after a longish
pause. "Is there a through carriage from London to Swines-
head on that train?"
"No. Mr. Patton would have had to change at Grantham
and he had just over half an hour to wait."
Fairfield nodded. "I see. Now, what I'm going to suggest
is purely imaginary. You know as well as I do that there are
always gangs of crooks on the look-out for valuables such as
the Wherwell diamonds. One of these gangs may have got
wind of Patton's journey and travelled by the same train from
King's Cross. They wouldn't have risked trying any of their
little tricks in the main line between London and Grantham.
But they may have somehow aroused Patton's suspicions,
causing him to think it unsafe to take the local train from
Grantham to Swineshead. So he tried to give them the slip at
Grantham by leaving the station. That would account for the
surrender of the ticket."
"In that case Mr. Patton would have hired a car and com-
pleted his journey by road," Hanslet suggested.
But Fairfield shook his head. "He would never have done
that and taken the diamonds with him. To go alone in a car
driven by an unknown man is a risk which nobody in his
position would take. If he left the train at Grantham under
those circumstances, this is what I should have expected him
to do. He would go to the stationmaster's office and ask him
to send for a policeman. He would have told the policeman
of his suspicions, and asked him to escort him to the nearest
hotel. From there he would have rung up Wherwell and told
him what had happened. He would probably have arranged
with Wherwell to meet him at Grantham in his car the next
morning, certainly not that night. Or he might have returned


110
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
to London under police protection. I can say this with some
confidence, for we have often discussed what we should do
in certain eventualities."
"It is hardly possible that Mr. Patton is still at Grantham
awaiting developments," said Hanslet gravely.
"I must agree with you there," Fairfield replied. "I'm afraid
we've got to face the facts, that the diamonds have been
stolen and that something pretty serious has happened to
poor old Patton. But how that can have happened is more
than I can imagine."
Hanslet made no comment on this. "Assuming for the mo-
ment that the diamonds have been stolen, could they easily
be disposed of?" he asked.
"It is never very difficult for a crook to dispose of dia-
monds," Fairfield replied. "But how he would set about
trying to dispose of them is another matter. It all depends on
the kind of crook who had managed to get hold of them. An
ordinary snatch-and-grab man would take them to the near-
est fence, who, if he touched them at all, would give him a
ridiculously small sum for them. The fence, if he knew his
business, would then break up the set and sell the stones
separately one by one. It would be impossible to sell the Wher-
well diamonds in their present form, and realize even a small
percentage of their value, for they are familiar to every dia-
mond merchant throughout the world. The only hope of any
one who had acquired them unlawfully, would be to realize
the value of each individual stone.
"It is a matter of common experience that individual stones
can be sold without much risk to the seller. The classical case,
of course, is the necklace known as Marie Antoinette's, though
that unfortunate woman never wore it. Messrs. Bohmer and
Bassange, the Perisian jewellers, had collected stones from
all over Europe in order to make it. It would of course have


112
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
taken when Wherwell brought the stones to us. But to return
to what we were saying. I should expect, of course, that such
a description would be circulated to all possible purchasers.
Consequently, having found a safe place in which to hide the
stones, I should bide my time. It might be a couple of years
or more before I took any further action.
"Then I should make a beginning, quite quietly and un-
ostentatiously, with the least valuable of the stones. I should
offer them for sale, one at a time, to different agents and likely
buyers in different parts of the world. Then, gradually, and
at long intervals, I should do the same with the more valuable
stones. In this case, there are perhaps half a dozen of the
biggest which would be easily recognized by the experts. Prob-
ably I should not attempt to sell them in their present form.
I should have them cut into different shapes before attempting
to dispose of them. I haven't a doubt that I could find half a
dozen diamond cutters who would do the work without ask-
ing awkward questions. Of course, the cutting process would
take some of the value off the stones, but I should consider
that better than having the theft traced back to me."
"How long would it take you to sell all the stones?"
"At least five years—perhaps rather more. I should have to
be very careful not to put more than one or two stones on the
market at once."
"What proportion of the value of the diamonds would you
eventually realize?"
"That's very difficult to say. You appreciate, of course, that
my method of disposing of the stones would allow me to deal
with reputable dealers from whom I should obtain the full
market value. Patton values the diamonds as they stand at
seventy thousand. I'm quite prepared to accept his estimate.
In which case the stones unset are worth somewhere about
sixty thousand. Selling them separately I ought to be able


114
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
the way, Mr. Fairfield, when I was here yesterday afternoon,
I asked Mr. McNaught if he could supply me with a photo-
graph of Mr. Patton. He suggested his passport, but on look-
ing for that document, he couldn't find it."
"He can't have looked in the right place," Fairfield ex-
claimed. "Patton and I always keep our passports in the office.
W.e never know when we may have to dash off to the conti-
nent at a moment's notice. I'll bet you I can lay my hands
on Patton's passport for you. If you care to come along to
his room, I'll give it to you."
So for the second time Hanslet found himself in the senior
partner's room. Fairfield went to the desk and opened the
same drawer as McNaught had opened previously. He also
turned over the few papers which it contained, and then re-
mained staring at the drawer in puzzled astonishment.
"Well, that's a very queer thing!" he exclaimed. "Patton
must have slipped the passport into his pocket before he
started on Wednesday."
"He may have put it away somewhere in his flat," Hanslet
suggested.
"Well, in all the years I've known him, I've never known
him do such a thing. He's a man of almost absurdly regular
habits and once he's found what he considers the right place
for anything nothing will induce him to change it. I'm ready
to swear that he must have taken his passport with him."
"Why should he have done so when his journey would not
take him out of England?"
"I'm blessed if I know," Fairfield replied. "I've never
known him do such a thing before. I can only suggest that he's
carried it with him as a means of identification in case of
emergency."
Hanslet glanced at his watch. He had sketched out an am-
bitious programme for the day and time was getting on.


116
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"Yes, I do remember taking a first-class ticket for Swines-
head," he said. "I couldn't say exactly what train the gentle-
man came off, but I think it must have been the 6.02. I was
taking the tickets from the passengers as they left the sta-
tion, and the gentleman handed me the outward half of a
first-class ticket from King's Cross. He asked me if the ticket
was all right and said something about going the rest of the
way by road. I told him it would be all right, and that's the
last I saw of him."
"Do you remember what the gentleman looked like?"
asked Hanslet.
"I'm afraid I don't," the ticket collector replied. "You
understand I get a good many passengers through the barrier
one way and the other. But I did notice that he seemed to be
carrying a curious-looking bag which seemed to have a chain
on it."
"Was he carrying a suitcase as well?"
The ticket collector looked doubtful. "Not to my recollec-
tion," he replied. "In fact, I don't think he can have been. So
far as I remember he was holding this bag of his in one hand
and he handed me the ticket with the other. And I don't re-
member him putting down a suitcase and picking it up again."
"Was he alone, or was there any one with him?" Hanslet
asked.
"I couldn't tell that, but I don't remember him speaking
to any one else."
"You don't know what happened to him after he passed the
barrier?"
"He must have gone outside the station, that's all I can
say. And from where I stand on the platform side of the bar-
rier, I can't see what happens outside."
Hanslet realized that this was all the ticket collector could
tell him. The next step was to interview one by one the porters


HANSLET'S CASE
117
who had been on duty at the time. But none of these had no-
ticed the gentleman with the satchel. And none of them re-
membered having carried a suitcase for any one answering to
Mr. Patton's description. Quite a number of passengers had
come off the 6.02 and Patton might well have passed un-
noticed among the crowd.
The one not very promising clue was the remark made to
the ticket collector by the man who had given up the ticket.
He had said something about completing his journey by road.
In spite of what Fairfield had said, it was just possible that
Patton, imagining himself to be followed, had thought of this
method of shaking off his pursuers. Hanslet's next step was
to call upon the local police. He provided them with a de-
scription of Patton, laying special stress upon the satchel,
since this appeared to have attracted notice wherever it had
been seen. He then asked that inquiries might be made at all
the garages in the town. It was possible that a man answer-
ing to Patton's description had hired a car some time after
six o'clock on Wednesday afternoon.
The superintendent then returned to the station and caught
the next train to Swineshead. Here again he interviewed the
stationmaster. The information which he received confirmed
in every particular what Wherwell had told him. The station-
master remembered the arrival of the 7.23 on Wednesday
from the fact that Maple, Wherwell's chauffeur, had spoken
to him. Maple told him before the train came in that he was
expecting a visitor to Holmden Hall. Only three passengers,
however, had alighted from the train and all three were
known to both Maple and the stationmaster. Maple had
looked into the first-class carriages and had seen nobody who
could have been Patton. The 7.23 was the last train down
from London that day. The stationmaster was perfectly cer-
tain that nobody carrying a satchel with a chain attached


HANSLET'S CASE
119
he had not arrived at Swineshead Station.
On the other hand, he may have thought it unsafe to have
continued his journey and have caught a train back to Lon-
don. But had he done so, he would presumably have used
the return half of his ticket No. 4173. How was it then that
the return half of this ticket had not been surrendered at
King's Cross?
So far the argument had been based upon a pursuit of
Patton, real or imaginary. But it was not impossible that Pat-
ton's motive had not been uneasiness at all. He might have
abandoned his journey for reasons of his own. Once embarked
upon this line of thought, Fairfield's conversation with the
superintendent took on a new significance. Fairfield had told
him that an expert finding himself in possession of the dia-
monds should be able eventually to realize fifty thousand
pounds upon them. And Patton, of all people, was the man
who knew how to do so.
How easily and inconspicuously Patton could have made off
with the diamonds! The details, each more convincing than the
last, poured in upon Hanslet's imagination. Patton had made
a great parade of taking precautions up to the departure of
the four o'clock train from King's Cross. But once the train
had steamed out of the station there was nobody to watch
his movements. He had left the train at Grantham carrying
his suitcase and the famous satchel. The suitcase he had left
on the platform. He had then gone out of the station, carry-
ing only the satchel. A few minutes later he had re-entered the
station by the booking-office and bought himself another
ticket to London. He had then retrieved the suitcase and car-
ried it with him into the lavatory. There he had divested him-
self of the satchel, which was unduly conspicuous, and packed
it inside the suitcase. He had then quietly and unobtrusively
returned to London.


120 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
What had been his next move? That was just where the
missing passport came in. With that in his pocket he could
slip across the Channel by one of several routes. Fairfield
had said that this was the very thing that an expert thief
would have done. By this time, no doubt, Patton was securely
hidden somewhere on the continent, with the individual stones
of the Wherwell diamonds in his possession.
The more that Hanslet considered this theory, the more it
seemed to him the only one that would fit in with the facts.
It was all very well to harbour suspicions of Sir Stanislaus
or McNaught but, up to the present, there was not a vestige
of evidence against them. They might be held for innocent
unless . . . and at this stage, the superintendent's mind
evolved a new and surprising possibility.
It revealed itself to him in a series of facts which arranged
themselves like the links in a chain. Wherwell had misrepre-
sented the reasons for bringing the diamonds to London. He
had said that he was merely seeking the advice of Messrs.
Patton and Fairfield upon certain alterations. Whereas almost
certainly the truth was that he had wished to sell them, but
had not secured a bid which he considered adequate. The dia-
monds were insured for a hundred and fifty thousand and
Patton's valuation was no more than seventy thousand. If
the diamonds were lost or destroyed, Wherwell would receive
the full value of the insurance. Was it possible that Patton
and Wherwell had entered into a conspiracy? Patton was to
disappear with the diamonds. The underwriters would hand
over a hundred and fifty thousand pounds to Wherwell. Pat-
ton, as his reward, might dispose of the stones to the best
advantage.
It occurred to Hanslet as he considered the possibility of
such a conspiracy, that the disappearance of the diamonds
had been exceedingly well-timed. Patton and Wherwell were


HANSLET'S CASE
121
old acquaintances and probably had no difficulty in coming
to a satisfactory arrangement. But there was Fairfield to be
considered. Either he would have to be let into the plot, or it
would have to be carried out without his knowledge. No doubt
the conspirators had decided that the latter course would be
the best.
Now Fairfield was in the habit of taking his annual holi-
day about the same time every year. Wherwell and Patton had
arranged that the diamonds should disappear during his ab-
sence. Wherwell had brought the diamonds to London before
Fairfield's departure. There was no risk in that—in fact, it
made the whole affair look rather more plausible. Wherwell's
reserve was purposely fixed at a ridiculously high figure. Pat-
ton had valued the«diamonds at less than half of this, and his
valuation had seemed perfectly reasonable to his partner.
Fairfield would not be in the least astonished to learn that
Wherwell's reserve had not been reached, and that it had been
decided that the diamonds should be returned to Holmden
Hall.
Hanslet's theory was fully developed by Saturday morning,
when he had his brief conversation with Jimmy at Scotland
Yard. After the latter's departure for Fallowchurch, the su-
perintendent sat down to draw up a time-table of events. This,
when complete, read as follows:
July 15th. Wherwell brings the diamonds to London and
deposits them with Messrs. Patton and Fairfield.
July 30th. Fairfield leaves London for the continent.
Saturday, August 15th. Patton writes to Wherwell suggest-
ing the return of the diamonds to Holmden Hall on the fol-
lowing Wednesday. The original of this letter is retained by
Wherwell and the copy is filed in Messrs. Patton and Fair-
field's office.
Monday, August 17th. Wherwell receives this letter. He


HANSLET'S CASE
123
suit of these inquiries was:
That nobody answering to the description of Patton had
been seen in or about the town of Grantham.
That no car had been hired by such a person on the after-
noon of Wednesday, August 19th, or at any other time.
That no car had been hired that afternoon or subsequently
to drive a stranger to Swineshead.
That no accident involving anybody answering to the de-
scription had come to the notice of the police of the Kestwen
Division of Lincolnshire.
This information was fully in accordance with Hanslet's
expectations. It confirmed his theory that Patton had re-
entered Grantham Station immediately after leaving it.
A few minutes later the superintendent's telephone rang
again. This time the caller was an official of the Passport
Office.
"You were asking on the telephone yesterday about a pass-
port issued to a certain Edward Patton," said the official.
"Well, by some extraordinary coincidence, we've got that very
passport in the office now. It's rather a long story. I suggest
that if you can find time you should come along here, and
I'll tell you about it."
"I'll find time all right," Hanslet replied. A few minutes
sufficed him to reach the Passport Office in a taxi. Here he
was taken immediately to the room of the official with whom
he had spoken.
"Good-morning, superintendent," said the official. "I
thought the discovery of this passport might interest you.
Here it is, you can see it for yourself. It is perfectly genuine
and corresponds in every respect with our records. As you will
see, if you examine it, it was originally issued to Edward Pat-
ton seven years ago and renewed two years ago. It is therefore
current."


124
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Hanslet took the passport eagerly and looked at it. There
was no doubt whatever that it was genuine. But it had evi-
dently been very badly treated. Several of the pages were
torn, and the cover was crumpled and disfigured by stains, ap-
parently of oil. The photograph of the possessor was, how-
ever, undamaged. Hanslet recognized it from its likeness to
the photograph he had secured from Patton's flat.
"How did this passport come into your possession?" the
superintendent asked.
"It was received here by post this morning," the official
answered. "Accompanying it was a note from the station-
master at Folkestone Harbour. Here is the note, you had bet-
ter read it for yourself."
The note was written on a sheet of paper bearing the printed
heading of the Southern Railway. It was dated Friday, August
21st, and ran as follows:
"To the Passport Office, London.
"Dear Sirs,—The enclosed passport was found by one of
my staff this afternoon on the quayside here. As I have been
unable to trace the owner, I herewith forward it to you ac-
cording to instructions.
"Yours faithfully,
"Henry Wakefield,
"Stationmaster."
"That's the usual procedure,"- the official remarked. "The
stationmaster probably showed this passport to the local
passport officer and asked him what he should do with it. The
passport officer told him that it should be sent up here. And
that I'm afraid is all I can tell you."
"It's quite enough to be going on with," Hanslet replied.
"I'm most awfully grateful to you for letting me know so
promptly. You don't mind if I keep this passport for a bit,
do you?"


HANSLET'S CASE
127
After some further conversation with Mr. Wakefield, Hans-
let interviewed the craneman who had found the passport
and the chief passport officer at Folkestone Harbour Station.
They confirmed all that the stationmaster had told him. He
returned to London with the satisfactory feeling that his
theory was now fully confirmed.
Patton's scheme was now apparent, though whether or not
he had been acting in collusion with Wherwell was not yet
established. The superintendent had already deduced his ac-
tions at Grantham Station on Wednesday afternoon. What
had happened subsequently was now sufficiently clear. Pat-
ton having hidden his satchel in his suitcase and possibly ef-
fected some trifling alterations to his appearance, had taken
the next train back to London. By doing so, he could have
reached King's Cross at half-past nine at the latest. This
would have given him plenty of time to cross London and
reach Victoria by eleven o'clock. No doubt he had provided
himself in advance with a ticket to some continental destina-
tion. Using his own passport he had passed the barrier at
Folkestone Harbour and so reached the quayside.
Here he had attempted to divest himself of the passport
which revealed his true identity. It would be pretty dark on
the quay and his actions would not be noticed. He had thrown
the passport, as he thought, into the harbour, where the tide
would very soon sweep it out to sea. But either owing to his
carelessness or perhaps to an untimely gust of wind, the pass-
port had been carried, not into the water, but under the crane.
Whether Patton had been aware of this or not, he would not
have dared attempt to retrieve it. It was essential to his scheme
that he should board the steamer without attracting any at-
tention.
Once on board the steamer, the rest was easy. Patton had
obviated the difficulty of landing at Dunkerque by the simple


HANSLET'S CASE
129
pended solely upon the alertness of the continental police,
with whom Hanslet had already put himself into communica-
tion. His frame of mind as he unfolded the story to Dr. Priest-
ley that evening was one of complete satisfaction.





Part Three
Jimmy Gets a Shock


***********************
AT FALLOWCHURCH THE WEEK-END PASSED WITHOUT FUR-
ther development. But on Monday morning, Jimmy began to
receive replies to his inquiries concerning Cartmell and Pan-
tony. It will be remembered that he had circulated descrip-
tions of these two to the police in the neighbouring counties.
And it now transpired that their progress from Fallowchurch
had not by any means passed unnoticed.
The landlord of a public house at Ightham, some ten miles
from Fallowchurch, remembered them perfectly well. They
had driven up in a green closed car shortly after half-past
eleven on Tuesday, the 18th. The taller gentleman, the one
with the moustache and glasses, had called for drinks. To the
best of the landlord's recollection, he had drunk half a pint of
beer himself and ordered a double whisky for his companion.
There was no doubt as to the identity of his companion.
The landlord had particularly noticed the harelip and the
deformed ear. After a second round of drinks, again paid for
by the taller gentleman, they had driven away in a westerly
direction.
They were next heard of at Westerham, twelve miles fur-
ther on. Here again they had stopped at a public house be-
tween a quarter and half-past twelve. The procedure here
had been the same as at Ightham. The gentleman with the
glasses had called for a half-pint of beer for himself and a
double whisky for his friend, whom he had addressed in the
133


134
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
landlord's hearing as Pantony. The landlord remembered the
name as it was somewhat unusual. In the course of conversa-
tion the gentleman with the glasses had told the landlord that
they were bound for Reading, where they had business.
Much the same thing had happened at Shere, twenty miles
from Westerham, where they had arrived between one and
half-past. Here the landlord of the inn at which they called
had noticed that though the tall gentleman was all right, the
one with the harelip had already had about as much as was
good for him. They had the same drinks as before, and the tall
gentleman had asked if they could have something to eat. The
landlord had replied that if they cared to wait for a few min-
utes, he could get them a chop or steak. But the tall gentle-
man said that they did not want to wait as they had an ap-
pointment in Reading and would have to push along if they
were not to be late. The landlord suggested bread and cheese,
which they accepted. They had left the inn at Shere about
two o'clock. According to the landlord, the gentleman with the
harelip had to be assisted into the car by his companion.
The next trace of them was at Wokingham, where they
had arrived shortly before three o'clock and pulled up out-
side an inn on the outskirts of the town. Here they had found
the door shut, since it was after closing time. They had, how-
ever, hammered on the door until the landlord opened it. They
had demanded drinks, but the landlord had refused to serve
them. At this, the gentleman with the harelip had become
abusive and threatened to smash the place up. The landlord,
however, was fully equal to the occasion. He told them to
clear out before he telephoned for the police, at which they
re-entered their green Comet saloon and drove off towards
Reading.
Jimmy, piecing these scraps of information together, was
able to reconstruct the hilarious journey. Cartmell's tactics


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
135
were perfectly clear. While remaining sober himself, he had
plied Pantony with drinks until the latter was hardly aware
of what he was doing. Having induced his companion to buy
the hearse, he had chosen his own time and opportunity to
murder him. And his choice of such an original method of dis-
posing of the body was easily explained. Pantony, with his
harelip and deformed ear, was a conspicuous person. It was
known that Pantony had left Fallowchurch in Cartmell's com-
pany. It was therefore necessary that his corpse, when found,
should be unrecognizable. Hence its disposal by Cartmell in
the tar boiler.
If the obvious theory required confirmation, every detail
of Jimmy's energetic investigation supported it. For instance,
he and Sergeant Playne persuaded the Ambroses to permit a
search of the room in their house occupied by Pantony. This
search revealed a cash-box, cunningly hidden under the floor-
boards. The absence of dust upon the cash-box showed that
it had recently been handled. But it was unlocked and empty.
No doubt that Pantony, when he left Fallowchurch, had taken
his hoard with him.
Naturally, in a place like Fallowchurch, the activities of
Jimmy and the sergeant could not be kept secret. By Sunday
afternoon it had become common knowledge in the village
that the body found in the tar boiler was that of Alf Pantony,
and that Mr. Cartmell had murdered him for his money.
This local sensation, the first which Fallowchurch had
known since the local butcher had drowned himself in his own
cesspit, formed the sole topic of conversation in the bar of
the Green Bear. Until the outrage, Pantony had scarcely been
popular. A strong feeling existed that he might have spent
more of his chance-gained money upon buying drinks for his
neighbours. Surely if a man had a stroke^of undeserved luck
like that, he might share it with the cronies whom he had


136
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
known since childhood! But now suddenly Pantony assumed
the character of a martyred victim. His meanness, his in-
corrigible cadging for drinks, were forgotten. David Gurney,
who, as the finder of the body, was listened to with respectful
attention, pronounced the dead man's panegyric.
"Poor old Alf!" he exclaimed to a crowded audience in the
Green Bear on Sunday evening. "Well I remember the night
that he got the money for the Sweep ticket. It was a Wednes-
day, and the usual crowd was in here when in comes Alf."
"It was a Thursday," Mr. Wedgwood interrupted gloomily.
It had long been understood in Fallowchurch that Mr. Wedg-
wood brooked no contradiction in his own bar.
"Well, Wednesday or Thursday, it's all the same," Gurney
continued. "As I was saying, in comes Alf and walks right
up to the counter just where Steve Cutlow's standing now. We
all knew that he'd won the prize, of course, and we sort of
sat there looking at him.
"And then he says, 'Well, boys, I've got my money. I'm
standing treat all round. What's it going to be?' Those were
his very words, weren't they, Sidney?"
Mr. Wedgwood, thus appealed to, nodded. "That's what
he said, or something very like it," he replied.
"Those were his very words," Gurney insisted. "So we had
drinks all round. Mine was a pint of stock, if I remember
rightly. And Alf wouldn't let anybody else buy a drink for
the rest of the evening. It didn't matter who came in. Alf
would say, 'Hallo, George,' or 'Jim,' or 'Bert,' or whoever it
might be. 'You're going to have a drink with me this evening.
Speak up and tell the landlord what it's to be.' You must have
done pretty well that evening, Sidney."
"Maybe I've done better since," Mr. Wedgwood replied
sourly. He was not going to allow it to be thought that his
record profits had depended upon Pantony's generosity.


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
137
"Well, maybe you have and maybe you haven't," said
Gurney. "Anyhow, that's the sort of chap that poor old Alf
was. Who'd ever have thought that he'd have been done in by
a low-down Londoner like that there Cartmell."
There could have been nobody present who had not been
refreshed at one time or another at Cartmell's expense. But
Gurney's observation produced an angry growl. "Dirty swine,
that's what he was."
"Aye, that he was," Gurney continued. "Hanging about
here like that all for to get hold of poor old Alf's money. It's
a wonder to me, Sidney, that he didn't murder you in the night
for what you'd got in the till."
"Wouldn't have been worth his while," said Mr. Wedgwood
sharply. "Chaps who sit here all night without drinking up
don't fill my till overmuch."
A few of the more conscientious took the hint and there was
a pause while Mr. Wedgwood drew half a dozen pints. Gurney
accepted one of these gratefully.
"Well, here's luck, mate," he said as he raised it to his lips.
"And here's hoping that the cops get that bloke Cartmell be-
fore he does any more mischief."
"If I was to meet that beggar, do you know what I'd do
to him?" suddenly asked a high-pitched voice.
"You'd ask him for the price of a drink, I reckon," some-
body replied scornfully.
The high-pitched voice ignored this insult. "I'd bash his
ruddy face in for him, that I would," it replied.
There was a general laugh at this, for Lou was a puny youth
with a firmly established reputation for cowardice.
"That inspector chap from London's smart enough," some
one else remarked when the merriment had subsided.
"Aye, smart enough," replied Gurney darkly. "But it isn't
always the smartest what gets there first. I shouldn't wonder


138
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
if it was our sergeant who got the chap, after all."
"He got Bill Halley last month, that time he was riding a
bike without a light."
"Cost me five bob and the loss of a day's work to go before
the Bench," grumbled Halley, who was present. "Still, I don't
bear the sergeant no malice. He was only doing his duty, in
a manner of speaking."
"And he'd warned you twice before, Bill, to my certain
knowledge."
"I daresay. But when I've got a drop of beer inside me, I
never can remember to light that plaguey lamp."
But in spite of such digressions, the conversation always re-
turned to the subject of Pantony and Cartmell. The facts as
known were discussed in every possible bearing. It transpired
that it had been perfectly plain from the first to Gurney and
several others, that Cartmell had only come to stay at the
Green Bear for what he could get.
"Why, you could tell that just to look at the bloke," said
Gurney indignantly. "What did he want to wear them great
ugly glasses for if it wasn't to hide what he was thinking
about?"
This was a little too profound for some of his audience.
"Maybe he couldn't see without them," somebody suggested.
"See!" Gurney exclaimed contemptuously. "He could see
right enough when it suited him. He saw that poor old Alf
had a bit of money put away. And he saw how he could pinch
it for himself, didn't he, now? Answer me that."
But nobody seemed disposed to answer, and the talk drifted
into a series of anecdotes concerning the two men. It might
have puzzled the impartial to find anything very much to say
in favour of Pantony. But somehow, his neighbours managed
to whitewash his character and to paint that of Cartmell in
the darkest and most depraved colours. Cartmell was a stran-
1


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
139
ger—worse, he was one of that distrusted tribe, a Londoner.
Londoners were notorious for every vice which figures promi-
nently in the popular press. It was a mercy that Cartmell had
contented himself with murdering poor old Alf instead of
wiping out the whole village in a frenzy of slaughter.
By closing time it had been suggested that the vicar should
put up a stained-glass window to Alf, the spotless martyr,
while that bloke Cartmell, when captured, should be subjected
to every torture known to the Inquisition.
Jimmy, meanwhile, was faced with a situation very similar
to that with which Hanslet was wrestling. The crime which
he had been called upon to investigate had ceased to be in
any sense a problem. The victim had been identified and the
criminal was known. Further, the latter had been traced to
London. It was only a matter of time and patience to run
him down and bring him to justice.
True, in the course of Monday afternoon, Jimmy's theory
received a trifling and unimportant set-back. He received a
telephone message from the Home Office expert who had un-
dertaken to examine the stain found on the seat of Cartmell's
car.
"Well, inspector," said the expert, "the stain was blood all
right, if that's any satisfaction to you."
"It's a lot of satisfaction to me," Jimmy replied. "It sug-
gests that the poor chap was killed while he was sitting in the
car."
To his astonishment, he heard a guffaw at the other end of
the wire. "It doesn't, you know," the expert replied. "That
stain is blood all right, but it isn't human blood, it's bullock's
blood. I'm posting you down a detailed report. Good-bye."
Jimmy's expression as he put down the telephone was one
of puzzled amusement. Bullock's blood! How the deuce was
that to be accounted for? Did this new fact in any way in-


140
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
validate his carefully elaborated theory? The thought of the
body, now safely interred, reassured him. Unrecognizable
though it might be, it was certainly that of a man and not of
a bullock. The fact that a stain of bullock's blood had been
found in Cartmell's car did not weaken the certainty that he
had murdered Pantony. But it was curious, all the same.
Monday was never a busy day at the Green Bear. The great
majority of Mr. Wedgwood's customers were working men,
and only a limited portion of their wages could be spared
for beer. The greater part of this was usually expended during
the week-end. By Monday evening, only the more opulent
could afford a pint, to be consumed with great deliberation
and spread over as much time as possible.
So when Jimmy walked into the bar shortly after six
o'clock, opening time, he found himself the only customer. He
ordered two pints, one for himself and one for the landlord,
and once again set to work to question Mr. Wedgwood on the
subject of Cartmell's sayings and doings. There was just a
chance that in some apparently trifling action or remark he
might find a clue to the man's true identity.
But Mr. Wedgwood, though full of reminiscence, was un-
able to tell him anything which he did not already know.
"Cartmell never told me much about himself and, naturally,
I didn't ask questions," he said. "He never even mentioned
the name of his firm, though he was always talking about them.
It was his firm that sent him here and his firm that he was
going to see on the days that he went to London. But he never
said a word about his firm's business."
"Did he actually do any business while he was with you?"
Jimmy asked.
"That's more than I can say. He certainly didn't do any
business in the village itself, or I should have got to know


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
141
about it. But most days he was out in that car of his and two
or three times he stayed away for the night. And when he
wasn't out in the car he'd go up to London by train like he
did last Monday. There's no telling what he might have been
up to when he wasn't here, is there?"
"Did he receive any letters while he was staying here?"
"Yes, he used to get two or three most mornings. I know
that, for I'm always about when the postman calls and I used
to take them in for him. Business letters they were, too, type-
written and in long-shaped envelopes."
"You didn't happen to notice if they all came from the
same place, I suppose?"
"Well, I did look at the postmarks sometimes, just out of
curiosity. The letters came from a lot of different places. Lon-
don sometimes, and towns round about this county. I suppose
they were from his firm and various people that he might have
called upon."
"He used to answer these letters, I suppose?"
Mr. Wedgwood scratched his head. "Well, now you come
to speak of it, I don't ever remember seeing him write a letter
or post one either. But then, I dare say he wrote them when
he was alone in his room and posted them when he went out
next day."
"What did he do with the letters he received? Tear them
up and throw them away or what?"
"Whatever he did with them I never saw them again once
I'd given them to him. He never left any waste-paper lying
about his room, if that's what you mean."
"You say that he stayed away for a night sometimes. Did
he give you any explanation of this?"
"Oh, yes, he'd tell me or the missus before he went. He'd say
that he had a long journey to do and several calls at the end


142
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
of it. It wouldn't be worth his while to come back that night,
but we'd see him the next evening. And sure enough we always
did."
"Did he take his suitcase with him on these occasions?"
"Yes, he always took that wherever he went. Even if he
was only going out for the day in the car. I thought at the
time that he used to carry samples about in it."
"He never told you where he had been or what he had been
doing, I suppose?"
"Never a word. I said to him one time when he came back,
'Had a busy time, Mr. Cartmell?' And he said, 'Busy's not
the word for it. My firm won't be content till they've worked
me to death.' And then he asked for a pint and didn't say
any more, and of course I didn't like to press him."
At this point a couple of regular customers drifted in.
Jimmy finished his beer and went thoughtfully back to the
room that Sergeant Playne had placed at his disposal. Cart-
mell's behaviour seemed more inexplicable than ever. What
had brought him to the Green Bear in the first place? Had
his sole object been to possess himself of Pantony's hoard?
If so, why these daily and sometimes nightly absences? Surely
one would have expected him to devote his time to cultivating
Pantony's acquaintance?
Unless, of course, as Jimmy had suspected from the first,
Cartmell was merely a temporary alias. The real man, devoid
of moustache and glasses and normally dressed had his own
affairs to attend to. And the maddening part of it was that
the real man, having discarded Cartmell for good, was now
walking about somewhere in perfect security with Pantony's
money in his pocket.
Meanwhile, at the Green Bear the unfailing topic was still
under full discussion. Jimmy's visit had been observed, as
even the most trifling incident cannot fail to be observed in a


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
143
village like Fallowchurch. Mr. Wedgwood might have fresh
news to circulate. Pockets were hurriedly searched for a
precious sixpence which would buy a pint. By a quarter-past
seven, there were at least a dozen customers in the bar of the
Green Bear, all eagerly discussing the mystery and eulogizing
the character of the departed Alf Pantony.
And then the miracle happened. At five and twenty min-
utes to eight precisely, the door opened and a figure carrying
a Gladstone bag slouched in. "Good-evening, all," he said
amiably.
For an instant the only sound heard in the bar was the
solemn tick of the clock. Then panic broke loose. Men crowded
back against the wall, away from that familiar figure with
the harelip and the deformed ear. They spilt a regrettable
amount of beer in the process. Even Mr. Wedgwood recoiled
from the counter upon which he had been leaning, and stood
with arms upraised as though invoking some protecting Provi-
dence.
Pantony, amazed by the commotion caused by his en-
trance, let fall his Gladstone bag with a thud. "Why, mates,
whatever's come over you?" he demanded.
It took some seconds to convince Mr. Wedgwood that he
was confronted not by a ghost but by solid flesh and blood.
And at last he found his voice.
"You've no right to come in here terrifying folks like that,"
he said resentfully. "Don't you know that you're dead—aye,
and buried too?"
"First I've heard of it," replied Pantony cheerfully. "Can't
a chap go away for a few days and enjoy himself without folk
carrying on like this when he comes back? Anyway, I'm dry.
Aren't any of you chaps glad enough to see me to stand me
a pint?"
But none of them, in spite of the eulogies they had so re-


144
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
cently repeated, seemed in the least glad to see him. Pantony,
the hapless victim of a brutal murderer, had appealed to their
sympathetic imaginations. His return, manifestly in the flesh
and cadging for a drink, was the height of anti-climax. David
Gurney, feeling himself deprived of his fame as the discoverer
of Pantony's body, voiced the sentiments of the rest, "You
can buy your own ruddy beer," he grumbled.
But there was nobody to buy it from. Mr. Wedgwood,
vaguely aware that this was a matter for the police, had
dashed out of the Green Bear. As it happened, he narrowly
escaped being run over by Sergeant Playne, who was return-
ing on a tour of duty on his bicycle.
"Why can't you look where you're going!" exclaimed the
Sergeant as he dismounted hurriedly and ungracefully.
"Hallo, it's you, landlord, is it? Where the dickens are you off
to in such a hurry?"
"I was coming to look for you, sergeant," Mr. Wedgwood
replied. "You'd best come into my bar right away and see
what's up."
"Somebody got drunk and making trouble?" said Playne
sharply. "Who is it this time?"
"It's nobody drunk," replied Mr. Wedgwood indignantly.
"It's Alf Pantony. He's back and cadging for a drink."
"Alf Pantony!" exclaimed the sergeant. "Why, man, you
must have taken leave of your senses."
"It's Alf, right enough," said Mr. Wedgwood. "Just you
come and see for yourself."
The sergeant followed him to the door of the Green Bear.
"Alf Pantony," he muttered to himself. "Why, whatever will
the inspector say to that?"
Playne and Mr. Wedgwood entered the bar to find Pantony
the centre of an excited group. His neighbours had recovered
from their first amazement at his unexpected return and now


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
145
crowded round him vociferously. Every one shouted ques-
tions at him at once. Some even pinched him sharply to con-
vince themselves of his material presence. Pantony's angry
protests were drowned in the general uproar.
The sergeant elbowed his way through the throng and laid
a heavy hand on Pantony's shoulder. "Now then," he said
commandingly. "You come along with me."
A sudden hush fell upon the bar. Nobody heeded Pantony's
querulous protest. "Why, what have I done, sergeant?" Not
until Playne had propelled him through the door and into the
roadway did the clamour of rude voices burst into an excited
roar. Never before had Fallowchurch known such a sensation.
The protesting Pantony was led down the road and into
the sergeant's house. The hat hanging in the hall showed
Playne that Jimmy was at home. He entered the door of his
room dragging Pantony after him.
Jimmy looked up from the paper upon which he was enter-
ing a few notes of his conversation with Mr. Wedgwood.
"Hallo, sergeant!" he exclaimed. "Who have you got there?"
"Alfred Pantony, inspector," Playne replied.
Jimmy leapt out of his chair as though a pin had been
driven into him from behind. Alfred Pantony! The thing was
impossible. Pantony was dead—murdered by Cartmell days
ago. The sergeant must have taken leave of his senses and
arrested somebody else.
Jimmy seized the newcomer by the arm and jerked him
round until he faced the window. The harelip and the de-
formed ear became hideously apparent. Jimmy stared at him
for a few moments in silence. And then "Who are you?" he
demanded almost savagely.
"I'm Alfred Pantony," the other replied indignantly. "The
sergeant here knows me well enough. If you don't believe
him you can ask my brother-in-law, who keeps the shop only


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
147
harmed and intact. "Never you mind," he replied. "Come
along, hand over that letter."
Pantony produced from his pocket a fat wallet from which
after much fumbling he sorted out an envelope. "There you
are, then," he said sulkily, handing it to the inspector.
Jimmy glanced eagerly at the envelope. It was of commer-
cial shape, had been posted in London on August 22nd, and
bore the typewritten address: Mr. Alfred Pantony, The White
Swan, Shipsfield, Wilts.
The envelope contained a sheet of poor quality writing
paper, upon which the letter was typed.
Dear Alf,—Sorry I haven't been able to get away before
this. I shan't be able to come down to Shipsfield to fetch you.
You'll find a quid in this letter which will buy your ticket to
Fallowchurch by train. I'll meet you at the Green Bear on
Monday evening.
Ever yours,
George.
Jimmy passed the letter on to Playne for his inspection.
"Now then, Pantony, we want to hear the whole story," he
said. "What made you go off with Cartmell last Tuesday?"
"There wasn't any harm in that," Pantony replied. "I only
went with him because he asked me. He'd talked about it for
some days before. He said that when next he had a long
journey to do, he'd take me with him and we'd see life to-
gether. And then on Monday evening in the Green Bear he
said that he was going off the next morning and asked me if
I'd come. And since he said that it wouldn't cost me anything,
I agreed. There's nothing to stop me from doing what I like."
"Then you're a lucky man," Jimmy remarked. "Well, tell
us what happened after you'd started."
"I don't know that very much happened. George said that


148
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
he had a call to make at Reading, but that we had plenty of
time to get there. We stopped at a pub here and there on the
way and had a drink or two. But it wasn't until we were nearly
there that George told what the game was."
"And what was the game?" Jimmy asked.
Pantony chuckled. "George said that he was going to have
a laugh on Sidney Wedgwood at the Green Bear. Sidney's all
right, but he's terrible superstitious. Why, if any one broke
a looking-glass in his house, he'd have fits. And George said
we could have a bit of fun with him."
"And what particular form was this fun to take?"
"Well, you see it's like this. George has a cousin who's an
undertaker somewhere in Wales, I think he said. And this
cousin had asked George to look out for a second-hand motor
hearse for him. George, travelling about the country as he
does, would be a likely chap to hear of one, you understand.
And George had heard of one for sale in Reading. That's why
we were going there."
"But what has George's cousin to do with Mr. Wedgwood?"
Jimmy asked.
"I'm coming to that. George said his cousin wasn't in any
hurry for the hearse for a few days. We'd buy the hearse and
have some fun with it before we handed it over. He said we'd
buy it in the name of somebody living in Fallowchurch. And
then he said it would be a good joke to buy it in my brother-
in-law's name and make out that he was an undertaker. Then
we'd pick up a coffin somewhere, put it in the hearse and leave
the lot outside Sidney Wedgwood's window one morning.
See?"
"Yes, I see," said Jimmy patiently. "But who was going to
drive the hearse?"
"Oh, George had got that all fixed up. He said he knew a
young chap, a regular sport and up to anything. He'd drop


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
149
him a line to pick up the hearse at Reading, drive it to Fallow-
church and slip back to London by the next train. Then no-
body would ever know that we had anything to do with it."
"Well, the joke came off all right, if that's any satisfac-
tion to you. Did George happen to mention tar boilers, by
any chance?"
"Tar boilers!" Pantony exclaimed. "No. What should he
talk about tar boilers for?"
"I only wondered," said Jimmy. "Well, what happened
when you got to Reading?"
"I don't rightly remember about that. What with the
pubs we stopped at and one thing and another, I'd got prop-
erly primed by then. But I recollect that George showed me
the place where the hearse was for sale, shoved a lot of notes
into my hand and told me to go in and buy it. Well, I went
in and looked at the thing, though I'll admit I wasn't in a
state to know a hearse from a heifer. I said it was for my
brother-in-law and the chap gave me a receipt which I
passed on to George."
"Where was George while you were buying the hearse?"
"Why, waiting with the car a couple of streets away. He
said he didn't want the hearse people to see him as he was
well known in Reading and they might recognize him, and
that would spoil the joke."
"And what happened next?"
"Why, after I'd given the receipt to George we started
off again. George said that his next call was at Shipsfield,
fifty or sixty miles further on, and that we'd get there easily
by the time the pubs opened. And after that, I must have
dozed off, for the next thing I remembered we were stopping
outside a pub called the White Swan. George told me this
was Shipsfield and that we were to stay there for the night.
So we went into the pub carrying our bags, and George


I5O
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
spoke to the girl behind the counter and said that we wanted
a room for the night. And when she asked for the names and
George told her, she said that there was a telegram waiting
for him which had been there since the day before."
"Did you see this telegram?" Jimmy asked.
"Oh, yes, I saw it right enough. The girl gave it to George
and he tore it open and read it. And when he'd done that he
seemed struck all of a heap. 'That's just like my blessed
firm!' he said. 'Make up their minds one moment and change
it the next. They want me to get back to London on urgent
business at the earliest possible moment. I'll have to drive
there straight away. It's a blessed nuisance, but there's no
help for it. I'll have to get right away now.'
"'And what's going to become of me?' I asked him.
"'Oh, you'll be all right,' he said. 'You can stop here until
I come back. I'll see about a room for you and all that.
You'll have plenty to amuse you while I'm away, for Ships-
field races begin to-morrow.'
"Well, the long and short of it was that he took a room
for me and gave me ten quid. And he said that I should "hear
from him within a day or two and that until then I'd best
stay where I was. But it wasn't until this morning that I got
that letter you've just seen."
"What time was it when Cartmell left you at the White
Swan?"
"Somewhere between half-past six and seven, as near as
I can remember."
"And you haven't seen him since?"
Pantony shook his head. "I've never so much as set eyes
on him," he replied. "And the only thing I've heard from
him is that there letter. It was him I was expecting to see
when I went into the Green Bear just now."
"You say he gave you ten pounds before he left you. What


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
1S1
was that for?"
"Why he'd said all along that if I would go with him, the
trip wouldn't cost me anything and the ten pounds was to
pay for my keep at the White Swan while he was away."
"A pretty generous allowance," Jimmy remarked. "Hadn't
you any money of your own with you, Pantony?"
A cunning expression promptly came into Pantony's eyes.
"I'm only a poor man," he replied. "But maybe I had a little
bit of my own hidden about me."
"And you have brought back as much as you took with
you?" Jimmy insisted.
Pantony's eyes twinkled. "Maybe a few bob more," he re-
plied. "You see, having nothing to occupy myself with while
I was waiting for George, I went to the races each day. I
met a few chaps at the White Swan who were in the know,
and I managed to win a bit more than I had lost."
"And yet the first thing you do when you get back to
Fallowchurch is to go cadging for drinks at the Green Bear,"
said the sergeant severely.
"Who says I was cadging for drinks?" exclaimed Pantony
indignantly. "You'd think any one would stand a chap a
drink after he hadn't seen him for the best part of a week.
Instead of which they all stood round staring as if I'd come
back from the grave."
"So, in a sense, you have," replied Jimmy wearily. "You'll
hear all about it before long, I dare say. Meanwhile, tell me
this. What made George Cartmell so anxious for your com-
pany?"
Pantony shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't say," he re-
plied. "We seemed to hit it off somehow from the first mo-
ment we met."
"When did you first meet?" Jimmy asked swiftly.
"Why, the very first night George stopped at the Green


152 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Bear. He and I got on talking in the bar and that's what
began it. We saw one another most days after that. You see,
George was on the look out for a steady chap who would
look after things for him while he was away."
"Oh, he was, was he? And you were the steady chap he'd
got his eyes upon, I suppose? And what sort of things were
they that you were to look after?"
"That's more than I can say. George said that there would
be plenty of time to explain all that later on. All we had to
do for the present was to get to know one another."
"And how much did you get to know of Cartmell? Where
did he come from, and what was his business?"
"Why, he came from London, where else? I know that for
sure because before he left me at Shipsfield he wrote down
his address on a piece of paper. I've got it in my pocket
now."
Jimmy's face lighted up. "Let's have a look at it," he said
shortly.
Pantony searched his pockets and eventually produced a
grimy slip of paper. "There you are," he said, "that's what
George wrote out for me on the counter of the White Swan."
Jimmy snatched at the paper, unfolded it, glanced at the
address and swore volubly. Scrawled on the paper were the
words "26, Mutley Street, S.W. 11." The slenderness of
Cartmell's connexion with this address he already knew.
"What about his job?" Jimmy asked. "He must have told
you something about that, I suppose?"
"He told me that he was the head traveller for a big firm
in London. But he didn't tell me the firm's name or what
their business was. He said that one day when we'd fixed
things up together, he'd take me up to see them and intro-
duce me. All I'd have to do was to watch out for him while
he was away and they'd give me a screw of five quid a week."


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
153
"Didn't Cartmell tell you anything about himself?
Whether he was married and had any children, for in-
stance?"
"No, he never told me that, and I never thought to ask
him. The only relation of his that I ever heard him speak of
was that cousin he bought the hearse for."
"Oh, damn the hearse!" exclaimed Jimmy irritably. "All
right, Pantony, that'll do for the present. Run away from
here, but don't leave the village again. The sergeant or I may
have other questions to ask you. Off you go."
As Playne escorted Pantony from the room, Jimmy
laughed mirthlessly. So his beautiful theory had toppled
down like a house of cards. For if Pantony was not a victim,
was there any reason to suppose that Cartmell was a mur-
derer?
The problem, which at first had seemed so absurdly sim-
ple, had suddenly become utterly insoluble. Apart from that
mysterious and unidentifiable body, the whole chain of in-
cidents seemed like a fairy tale. Cartmell's behaviour was ut-
terly inexplicable, except upon the theory that he was the
perpetrator of a most elaborate but pointless practical joke.
He had gone to considerable expense for no other apparent
reason. He had bought a car, the one now lying at the Pass-
way Garage, which he could not claim again without finding
himself forced to give explanations to the police. He had
spent quite a lot of money during his stay at the Green Bear.
He had bought a hearse, second-hand and in indifferent con-
dition. He had financed extravagantly Pantony's holiday at
Shipsfield. And what had he to show for this? Nothing what-
ever. He had disappeared from the scene as mysteriously as
he had appeared upon it.
Disappeared. A sudden and disturbing thought flashed
upon Jimmy's mind. That confounded body, so disfigured


154
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
by the boiling tar as to be quite unrecognizable. Was it by
any chance Cartmell's? Had the roles of victim and mur-
dered been reversed? Had Pantony for some inscrutable
reason of his own lured Cartmell to destruction? Or had
Cartmell as a grim climax to his practical joke, plunged
naked into the tar boiler after leaving the hearse outside the
Green Bear? Both theories seemed equally fantastic.
But then the whole affair was utterly fantastic. Cartmell's
friendship for Pantony, their hilarious journey together to
Reading, and the purchase of the hearse. Why, if Cartmell's
purpose was murder, had he burdened himself with such a
conspicuous companion as Pantony? Nobody having seen
Pantony once could fail to recognize him again.
If Pantony's story were true, and that was a matter which
could easily be determined, Cartmell had murdered nobody
between half-past six or seven on Tuesday, August 18th.
Jimmy looked up Shipsfield in the road book, and found that
it was ninety-three miles from London. Cartmell had appar-
ently left Shipsfield in his car about seven and arrived at the
Passway Garage about ten. Ninety-three miles in three hours
was not bad going. It seemed to leave insufficient leisure for
murder en route. It might be assumed that Cartmell was still
innocent of bloodshed when he left his car at the Passway
Garage.
But in that case how to explain the stain on the cushion
of that car? The fact that it was the blood of a bullock and
not a human being offered no solution. What part had this
wretched beast played in the nightmare drama? How had
it come to deposit its blood upon the seat of Cartmell's car?
Or was this another of Cartmell's practical jokes? Had he,
not knowing that blood from various sources can be distin-
guished, deliberately attempted to fasten on himself the sus-
picion of murder?


156 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Cartmell turned up at Fallowchurch with a reasonable ac-
count of his extraordinary proceedings. Jimmy had taken
steps to ensure that if Cartmell entered the Passway Garage
to fetch his car, he would be detained. He half-expected a
telephone mesage from the Yard to tell him that this had
actually happened. Meanwhile, there would be no harm in
walking to the station to meet the last train.
He took Sergeant Playne with him and reached the plat-
form just before the train drew in. Half a dozen passengers
alighted and the two policemen eyed them narrowly. But as
the last of them left the station the sergeant shook his head.
"I know them all perfectly well," he said. "You can take
it from me that Cartmell was not among them."
Jimmy sat up till midnight racking his brain for some
plausible solution to his problem. When eventually he went
to bed, he dreamt that he was being chased by a bullock rid-
den by Pantony, whose harelip and deformed ear were mon-
strously exaggerated. He woke up unrefreshed, loathing the
prospect of the day before him.
He and the sergeant had just finished breakfast when there
came a knock on the door. The sergeant opened it, to admit
Mr. Ambrose, obviously in a state of excitement and waving
a long-shaped envelope in his hand.
"Hallo, Mr. Ambrose, what's bitten you?" Playne ex-
claimed. "Come in and tell us the trouble."
Mr. Ambrose flung the envelope upon the table. "That's
the trouble," he replied. "And I'd be glad if you or this other
gentleman here would tell me what to do about it."
Playne picked up the envelope and withdrew from it a
motor car registration book. The envelope was addressed to
Mr. John Ambrose, and the registration book concerned a
motor hearse, No. ZZ 542. An entry of first change had been
made from Messrs. Golder & Brown of Reading, to Mr.


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
157
John Ambrose, of the Handy Stores, Fallowchurch.
The sergeant glanced at these particulars and then passed
the book on to Jimmy. "Well, Mr. Ambrose, what do you
want me to do about it?" said the latter. "You'd better talk
to your brother-in-law, he knows more about this than any-
body else."
"What, Alf!" exclaimed Mr. Ambrose. "He's never been
and bought the thing, surely? Why, he never buys anything
more than he can help. And what would he want to go and
buy a hearse for?"
"You'd better ask him," Playne replied crisply. "Mean-
while, the hearse appears to be registered in your name. As I
dare say you've already guessed, it's the one that was left
outside the Green Bear last Thursday, and is now standing
in Quain's yard."
"I know that well enough," said Mr. Ambrose indig-
nantly. "That's just the trouble, don't you see. As soon as
Quain hears that the thing is registered in my name, he'll
come down on me for the storage of it and it's been with him
for the best part of a week. What I want to know is how can
the County Council say that it belongs to me when I don't
know anything about it?"
"Cheer up, Mr. Ambrose," said Jimmy. "There's a notice
in this book which seems to have escaped you. This is what
it says: 'Important. The person in whose name a vehicle is
registered may or may not be the legal owner of the ve-
hicle.' I suppose that means something, though I really can't
tell you exactly what. But if Mr. Quain comes down on you
for garage expenses, I'd tell him to put that notice in his pipe
and smoke it."
"That's all very well," said Mr. Ambrose, still far from
satisfied. "What does the law say about it? Does that
plaguy hearse belong to me or does it not?"


158 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"That I couldn't say," replied Jimmy. "It appears to me
to be a very nice point. But I promise you this; since the
police ordered the removal of the hearse to Quain's garage,
they will be responsible for the present for any expenses
connected with it. Meanwhile, the best thing you can do is
to follow my advice, and have a chat with that brother-in-
law of yours."
Mr. Ambrose went out muttering, and Jimmy went to the
station to take a train to Shipsfield.
He arrived there about one o'clock and inquired his way
to the White Swan. This turned out to be a modest little inn
situated in one of the back streets of the town. Its principal
trade was the selling of liquor, but it had three or four bed-
rooms available for visitors in humble circumstances.
Jimmy ingratiated himself with the girl behind the bar.
She turned out to be the proprietor's daughter and seemed to
have most of the running of the house on her shoulders. She
remembered Pantony perfectly well. "Yes, he was with us
for the best part of a week," she said, "from last Tuesday
evening until yesterday morning. And I wasn't sorry when
he got a letter and said that he'd have to go back home."
"Didn't he behave himself properly then?" Jimmy asked.
The girl tossed her head. "He didn't seem to know how
to behave himself," she replied. "But then, I suppose, he's
not to blame, for he came from some outlandish place I've
never heard of. Not that he gave us any trouble, but he used
to make himself a nuisance to our regular customers. He'd
sit in the bar here all day, when he wasn't at the races last
week, that is; and if any other customer came in, he'd get
him to talk with him in the hope of being stood a drink."
"One of your regular customers brought him here, didn't
he?" Jimmy asked artlessly.
She shook her head. "I'd never set eyes before on Mr.


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
159
Pantony or the gentleman who came with him," she replied.
"The other one was tallish with a big moustache and glasses,
and wearing clothes that our pot-boy would have been
ashamed to have been seen about in. But he did speak like a
gentleman, I must say that. He and that Pantony walked in
here last Tuesday evening. It must have been soon after six
o'clock, for we hadn't been open very long, and the tall one
said that his name was Cartmell and could they have a
room with two single beds in it for they had come to stay
over the races.
"Now as I say, I had never set eyes on either of them
before. But I knew the name Cartmell, for we'd had a tele-
gram in that name delivered the evening before. It was
standing upon the rack there among the bottles and when
the gentleman told me his name was Cartmell, I took it down
and gave it to him. He opened it and I heard him tell his
friend that it was from his firm and that he'd have to drive
back to London at once. And then he told me that he would
take the room just the same, that his friend would stay here,
and that he would come back and join him as soon as he
could. And then when he'd had a quick one, he went out
and drove away in his car. And that's the last I've seen of
him."
Jimmy ordered a pint of beer and a couple of sandwiches,
which he consumed hurriedly. He then left the White Swan
and made his way to the post office, where he was successful
in tracing the duplicate of the telegram addressed to Cart-
mell. It had been handed in at London, S.E.I, at four-ten on
August 17th. It was addressed to George Cartmell, the White
Swan, Shipsfield. The message was as follows:
Urgent. Return here for important conference 9.30
Wednesday morning. Lubbock.


160
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
On the face of it the telegram appeared perfectly genuine.
Lubbock was presumably a director of Cartmell's mysterious
firm. The message was peremptory, and afforded Cartmell
an excellent pretext for leaving Shipsfield the moment he re-
ceived the telegram.
But all the same, Jimmy was sceptical. He remembered
that, according to his own account, Cartmell had spent the
whole of August 17th in London. He had left Fallowchurch
early that morning and had not returned until the last train.
His business in London had been, presumably, to call upon
his firm. It seemed highly improbable that his firm should
have sent him a telegram at four-ten that afternoon, ad-
dressed not to Fallowchurch but to Shipsfield. On the other
hand Cartmell might easily have sent the telegram himself
during his visit to London. In which case he had intended all
along to park Pantony in Shipsfield and to ensure that he
should remain there out of harm's way for the next few
days. Was this merely another practical joke on his part, or
was it part of an elaborate scheme?
From the post office Jimmy went to the police station,
where he asked that inquiries might be made about the town
for any one who remembered seeing Cartmell. This he re-
garded as a mere formality, for there could be little doubt
that Cartmell had driven straight to London after leaving
the White Swan. Finally, Jimmy took a train to London,
arriving at Scotland Yard shortly before six o'clock. He in-
quired for Superintendent Hanslet and hearing that he was
in the building, went up to his room.
Hanslet looked up as his subordinate entered. "Hallo,
Jimmy, you're looking a bit down in the mouth," he ex-
claimed. "Sit down and tell me what it's all about, that is if
you feel inclined to."
"Thanks, I'm simply bursting to unbosom myself to


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
161
somebody," Jimmy replied. "And I'll bet I don't look half as
down in the mouth as I feel. The bottom has dropped clean
out of that lovely case of mine."
Hanslet chuckled. "You'll get used to that sort of thing
happening when you've been in the force as long as I have,"
he said. "What is it? Anything really serious?"
"It's just about as serious as it can be," Jimmy replied.
"My own pet victim has returned to his usual haunt, bright,
smiling and full of unctuous vitality. I don't know how I
refrained from murdering him myself."
"You mean that you backed the wrong horse when you
spotted the identity of that corpse of yours, I suppose?"
"That's it in a nutshell. Now perhaps you'll tell me what
I'm going to do about it, for I'm blest if I know which way
to turn."
Jimmy described rapidly the return to Pantony and the
steps which he had taken to verify the latter's story. The
superintendent listened to this with unconcealed amusement.
"Rotten luck, Jimmy," he exclaimed when the inspector
had come to the end. "You'll have to start all over again
and it seems to me that you haven't very much to go upon.
Half a minute."
Hanslet's telephone bell had begun to ring insistently. He
took up the instrument and listened to a message. "All
right, show him up," he said. Then, turning to Jimmy,
"That's Fairfield, the partner of the man who has bolted
with the Wherwell diamonds. He rang me up just before
you came in and asked if he could come and see me. No,
don't run away. I don't expect he'll stay very long."
A moment later Fairfield was shown into the room. In
spite of his notably smart clothes and his immaculate ap-
pearance, he was obviously worried. He bowed gracefully
when introduced to Jimmy and then took the chair which


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
163
"Naturally I asked for details. Then he told me that he
had been sitting in his office a few minutes after six o'clock
on Thursday, August 20th, when his clerk told him that Mr.
Patton wished to speak to him on the telephone. Thinking
that this must have reference to a visit which I had paid him
some ten days earlier, M. Baudin gave orders that the call
should be put through to his room. He then heard Mr. Pat-
ton speaking in English. He seemed very agitated. He told
M. Baudin that he must see him as soon as possible upon
business of the utmost urgency. He said that he was speak-
ing from Dunkerque and would catch the next train to
Brussels. It's only a matter of four or five hours' journey.
Before M. Baudin could reply, Patton rang off, apparently
very suddenly."
"Mr. Patton rang up from Dunkerque, did he?" said Hans-
let. "What had he to say to M. Baudin when he turned up
in Brussels?"
"That's the most extraordinary thing about it," Fairfield
replied. "He never did turn up. M. Baudin assures me from
the time of the telephone message until now, he has seen or
heard nothing whatever of Patton. And he seems a little bit
upset, for apparently he sat up all night waiting for him."
"M. Baudin probably guessed that the urgent business
concerned the Wherwell diamonds?"
"I think he must have done so. He was one of the people
with whom I had discussed the matter. But on the other
hand, his firm and ours do quite a lot of business together.
A communication between us would not necessarily concern
those particulars."
"Is M. Baudin personally acquainted with Mr. Patton?"
"I couldn't say for certain," Fairfield replied. "M. Baudin
has probably met Patton during one of his periodical visits
to London. But I don't think that Patton has ever called upon


164
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
him at Brussels. As a rule, most of the foreign interviewing
falls to my share; Patton is one of those people who either
can't or won't learn foreign languages. He always says that
English is good enough for him and he expects every one else
to understand him when he speaks it.
"That's why his telephone message to M. Baudin appears
more extraordinary to me than it may to you. If our firm
had urgent business with M. Baudin, and I can find no
trace that it had, Patton would almost certainly have en-
trusted it to me. He knew that I should be in Paris last
Thursday afternoon or Friday morning, and where to get
hold of me, for I had told him when I wrote to him from
Brussels a week earlier. He could have got in touch with me
without the slightest difficulty. As a matter of fact, at the
very time he telephoned, I was in the office of another of
our business friends, Le Maistre Freres, of the Rue de la
Paix, Paris. I went straight from there to my hotel, where I
got McNaught's telegram a little later. If you can make
anything out of Baudin's story, it's more than I can."
"I'll puzzle it out as best I can," said Hanslet. "Have you
heard anything from any of your other friends?"
"Not yet. I'll let you know the moment I do. Is there any-
thing else you want me to do for you, superintendent?"
"Not at the moment, Mr. Fairfield, thanks very much. We
know where to find one another in case of need. It's very
good of you to let me know about this telephone message so
promptly."
Hanslet escorted Fairfield to the door, then came back to
his chair and chuckled.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "That, I think, pretty well
proves my theory as to Patton's movements. I don't think
it'll be very long before we have news of him. But I wonder
why he didn't go and see this M. Baudin after all? Got the


166
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
up. He left a telephone number where he said he was always
to be found. I didn't get the message until just before it was
time to come here to dinner, so, as Fairfield's business was
not urgent, I didn't ring him up until Sunday morning.
"When I did ring him up, he told me that he would like
to see me for a few minutes if I could spare the time. I in-
vited him along to the Yard and he came straight away. He
told me that he'd had an idea but didn't like to do anything
about it until he had seen me.
"His idea was this. As he had already told me, while he
had been abroad he had varied his holiday by doing a little
business. He had called on half a dozen of his business
friends, and in the course of conversation, had given them to
understand that the Wherwell diamonds were for sale, if sat-
isfactory terms could be arranged. He had said that at pres-
ent the owner appeared to have an exaggerated idea of their
value, but that in time he might become more reasonable.
"Fairfield explained to me that this kind of information
very soon spreads through the whole of his profession. It
might easily have reached the ear of whoever had stolen the
diamonds.
"I couldn't at first see what Fairfield was driving at, but
he very soon explained. 'Look here, superintendent,' he said.
'You asked me the other day what an expert thief might do
with the stones, and I told you what I should do if I were in
his place. Now, we'll carry that a step further. I, knowing
that we have let it be known on the Continent that the dia-
monds are for sale, manage to pinch them from poor old
Patton some time on Wednesday evening. I make my way to
the Continent by the quickest route. I've got nearly twenty-
four hours in front of me before the police take action, re-
member.
"'Once on the Continent I give out that I am a represent-


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
167
ative of Messrs. Patton and Fairfield. I go to some merchant
that I have previously selected, show him the stones and tell
him that the owner has agreed upon a price somewhere in
the neighbourhood of Patton's estimate. Of course, I've pro-
vided myself with the necessary forged documents to prove
my bona fides. It seems to me to be a perfectly feasible plan,
and I shouldn't be at all surprised if it had been followed,
and if the diamonds had not already changed hands.'
"It seemed to me a pretty bright thought—brighter even
than Fairfield imagined it to be. You see, Fairfield knew
nothing of his partner's passport having been found. He may
have his suspicions of Patton, but, if he has, he's far too loyal
to mention them to me. But with Patton as the thief all the
difficulties mentioned by Fairfield disappear. It would have
been unnecessary for Patton to make himself out to be the
firm's representative, or to supply himself with false docu-
ments. His authority as head of the firm of Patton and Fair-
field, would enable him to dispose of the diamonds, openly
and without arousing the slightest suspicion.
"However, I didn't say anything of this to Fairfield. I
merely asked him if he had any suggestions to make. After
all, I can't be expected to be familiar with all the intricacies
of the diamond trade. Fairfield's expert advice might be very
helpful.
"Fairfield replied that to the best of his knowledge, only
about half a dozen of the leading diamond dealers on the
Continent had been told that the diamonds were for sale. He
suggested that it might be a good thing if he were to write a
personal letter to each of these people. We put our heads to-
gether and managed to evolve a sort of non-committal for-
mula. In effect we said that before any final purchase of the
stones was effected, it would be as well for the prospective
purchaser to communicate immediately with Patton and


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
171
Fallowchurch."
"An interval of five hours at the very least. How far is it
by road from Reading to Fallowchurch?"
"Only a matter of eighty miles or so, sir. And the hearse,
although certainly shabby, appears to be in perfect running
order."
"Exactly. Does that not suggest a delay en route or a
considerable detour? The first might have been due to
mechanical trouble. I would suggest that an inquiry circu-
lated to garages might be advisable. Further, I would sug-
gest a very tedious investigation on your part, inspector.
It would, I think, he desirable to know exactly how Cartmell
spent his days during the weeks preceding his disappearance.
He is supposed to have visited London and various towns in
the vicinity of Fallowchurch, is he not?"
"We have the evidence of the landlord of the Green Bear
for that, sir."
"But that evidence is hardly sufficient. What towns did
Cartmell visit and what transactions did he carry out during
those visits? I think the superintendent will agree that that
line of inquiry might shed light upon his identity."
"I do agree, professor," Hanslet replied. "If Jimmy's wise
he'll follow up those hints of yours."
"While you remain quietly at Scotland Yard expecting
news of Patton?" Dr. Priestley suggested.
Hanslet laughed. "Oh, no. I'll give Jimmy a hand while
I'm waiting."
"In my opinion you'd be better employed in your own
case," said Dr. Priestley with some asperity. "There are at
least two matters connected with it which might profitably
engage your attention."
"I'd be glad to know what they are, professor," said
Hanslet somewhat nettled by this rebuke.


172
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"The first deals with Patton's movements after he left
Grantham Station. You maintain that he re-entered it and
caught an up-train to London. But, so far as I am aware, you
have no facts whatever to support this theory. In your place,
I should ask the Grantham police for a report of any inci-
dent, however apparently trifling, which took place in the
neighbourhood that afternoon and evening.
"The second matter is this. Who visited the premises of
Messrs. Patton and Fairfield during the days preceding Pat-
ton's journey? It appears to me at least a possibility that
one of these visitors may have had a hand in the affair. Has
it occurred to you, for instance, that Patton may have a
confederate waiting for him at Grantham? Or that on leav-
ing the station he entered this confederate's car, and was
driven by him straight to Folkestone, thereby avoiding risk
of recognition while passing through London?"
"No, I confess that's something which hadn't occurred to
me," Hanslet replied. "But, while I admire your passion for
detail, professor, it's all beside the point. It doesn't matter
much how Patton reached Dunkerque, since we know that
he was there at six o'clock on Thursday evening. However,
I'll try to clear up those points. But now, Jimmy, it's time we
left before we out-stay our welcome."
"The professor wasn't quite so bright as I hoped he might
be," said Hanslet as he and Jimmy left the house together.
"I thought he'd be able to suggest how you could identify
that body of yours. Instead of which he expects us to dig
round after a lot of details which aren't of the slightest im-
portance. Well, good-night, Jimmy, and better luck than
you've had so far."
For the next day or two Hanslet and Jimmy occupied
themselves in purely routine inquiries. The superintendent,
while awaiting news from abroad, decided there could be no


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
173
harm in following Dr. Priestley's suggestions, irrelevant
though they seemed. He therefore called upon Fairfield and
broached the subject of visitors to the office during the pre-
vious week.
"Perhaps Mr. McNaught could tell us who called here
while you were away," he suggested.
McNaught was summoned and interrogated. But, accord-
ing to him, no strangers had called during the week preced-
ing Mr. Patton's journey. He recited a list of names, at which
Fairfield nodded. "You're quite right, McNaught," said the
latter finally. "They are all people with whom we do regular
business. Thanks very much. We needn't keep you from
your work, unless the superintendent has any other questions
to ask you."
But Hanslet shook his head and McNaught returned to
his own room.
Fairfield produced a box of cigars and handed it to the
superintendent. "Try one of these," he said. "We keep them
in the office here to offer to important clients. The firm pays
quite a lot of money for them. Now I'm going to ask a pos-
sibly indiscreet question. Why do you want to know about
the people who came to see Patton last week?"
Hanslet hesitated before he answered that question. His
reply must necessarily reveal his own suspicions. But, after
all, Fairfield was an intelligent man. He must long ago have
guessed the truth, even if he refused to admit it.
"I am anxious to find out whether Mr. Patton acted alone
last Wednesday, or whether he had a confederate," said
Hanslet at last.
Fairfield frowned. "So it's come to that," he said quietly.
"Am I to understand that it is the official view of the police
that my partner has made away with the Wherwell dia-
monds? A rumour of that kind is hardly likely to enhance


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
175
ton got rather badly hit a year or two ago and I don't sup-
pose he's quite so well off as he was. He never told me the*
whole story, but I gathered that somebody induced him to
put money into a concern that looked very well on paper.
Unfortunately, however, the thing fizzled out, and Patton's
money went with it. I can't tell you the amount involved, but
I fancy that it was more than most of us care to lose just
like that. Even so, I don't for a moment believe that in order
to recoup himself he would steal diamonds which had been
entrusted to his care."
Since Hanslet could not share Fairfield's confidence in his
partner's integrity, he made no comment upon this. "What
is your opinion of Sir Stanislaus Wherwell?" he asked.
Fairfield looked at him curiously. "You've been frank
with me and I'll be equally frank with you," he replied. "I
took a dislike to the fellow the first time I spoke to him."
"Can you tell me why?"
"It's never easy to explain one's impressions. When Wher-
well and I first met he was the very essence of matiness. He
was delighted to meet his old friend's partner and all that.
I must certainly come and see him at Holmden Hall. Did I
care for an occasional day with a gun? Very well, then, we
must make a date for next October and have a pot at the
pheasants. You know the kind of thing, I daresay. But he
didn't strike me as genuine. There was something shifty
about him that I didn't like."
"Shiftiness of manner?" Hanslet suggested.
"Rather more than that. Perhaps you know how some
people behave in a pawnbroker's shop? They take in an
article to pledge and hasten to assure the pawnbroker, who
doesn't care a damn anyway, that they're only doing it to
oblige a friend to whom the article belongs. Well, Wherwell's
attitude in this office was very similar. He began by explain-


176
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
ing that the only reason he wanted to sell the diamonds was
that his wife couldn't possibly wear them because they were
so hopelessly old-fashioned.
"Patton told him that there was no need to sell the dia-
monds on that account. They could be re-set in modern
style at comparatively slight expense. We could prepare de-
signs for Wherwell to choose from and then give him an
estimate of the cost of re-setting.
"I saw at once that the suggestion did not appeal at all to
Wherwell. He hummed and hawed and at last said that he'd
rather the diamonds were sold. His wife mightn't like the
re-setting when it was done and then the expense would have
been wasted. It was then that he asked Patton what they
would fetch. And when Patton's estimate was about half
what he had expected it gave him a nasty shock. I assure
you that he went dead white. It was just as though he were
going to faint.
"In our line of business, we see quite a lot of people who
have things to sell, and we can generally make a pretty
shrewd guess at their reasons for selling. I'm fairly sure in
my own mind that Wherwell wanted the value of those dia-
monds pretty badly. I shouldn't wonder if he'd lost a lot of
money recently. Backing horses, or something like that, at
a guess. Anyway, he was frightfully anxious that the dia-
monds should be sold for at least a hundred thousand. And,
which was equally important, the fact that they were for
sale was to be kept a secret between the three of us, Patton,
me and himself."
"Lady Wherwell must have been in the secret, of course,"
Hanslet remarked.
"No, she wasn't. That's just the point. Lady Wherwell was
to know nothing about it until the money was received. Now
perhaps you understand what I mean when I say that there


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
177
was something shifty about the fellow. He obviously meant to
sell the diamonds without his wife's knowledge. I suppose
he thought that he'd be in a better position to face the music
if he had the money to dangle before her eyes."
Hanslet nodded. This was in full agreement with what he
already knew of Sir Stanislaus. He had maintained that the
diamonds had been brought to London for alteration and not
for sale.
After some further conversation, Hanslet was about to
leave the office, when Fairfield detained him.
"While you're here, superintendent, I should like to tell
you of rather a queer thing which happened to me yesterday
evening. After I'd been to the Yard to see you, I came back
here. I'd left some things in my room which I wanted to take
home with me. By the time I got here McNaught and the rest
of the staff had gone home and the place was locked up. That
didn't worry me, for both Patton and I have keys and can
let ourselves in whenever we like. Just as I reached the door
I met a policeman, whom I know very well by sight. I don't
know his name, but we usually exchange a few words when
we meet. And yesterday evening I happened to say to him
that we hadn't met for some weeks as I'd only just come back
from my holidays. The policeman then said that he had seen
me a week ago almost to the minute but that I hadn't seemed
to recognize him.
"That struck me as peculiar. Yesterday was Monday and,
as you know, I didn't get back to London till last Friday
morning. At the time the policeman thought he saw me, I was
hundreds of miles away. I told the policeman this and he
seemed very much surprised. He told me that last Monday
week, just about eight o'clock, he saw a gentleman walking
down the street a few yards from our door and made sure that
it was me. He particularly thought it was me because he was


178
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
almost sure that the gentleman had come out of this house.
"I told him that he must have been mistaken and bade him
good-evening. But I wasn't quite happy about it, for all that.
You must understand that we don't keep anything of out-
standing value on the place. Anything like the Wherwell dia-
monds, for instance, we always take to the bank. But there
was always the possibility that somebody had got in to see
what they could pick up.
"This morning, before you came along, I had a talk with
McNaught. I asked him if any one had been here late last
Monday week. He told me that Patton had gone home, as he
usually does, at half-past five; McNaught himself had seen
the rest of the staff off the premises and gone home just after
six, locking the place behind him. Then I asked him if he had
found anything missing or out of order when he arrived on
Tuesday morning, and he assured me that he had noticed
nothing of the kind. There's probably nothing in it. The
policeman was certainly mistaken. But I thought that you
might like to know about it."
Hanslet thanked Fairfield and left the office. He went
straight to the local police station, where he interrogated the
sergeant on duty. It was soon established that the policeman
on duty in Hatton Garden from 4 p.m. until midnight on
Monday the 17th had been Constable Bidwell.
Bidwell, who happened to be on the premises, was sum-
moned and the superintendent questioned him.
He was young, intelligent, and had served in this particular
division for the last five years. In the course of his service he
had got to know by sight most of the gentlemen who had
offices in Hatton Garden. Some of them he knew by name.
Among these was Mr. Fairfield. He had learnt Mr. Fairfield's
name through calling upon him with reference to a car which
had been left standing outside the door of Messrs. Patton and


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
179
Fairfield's offices for an unreasonable time. This had been a
year or more ago, since when Mr. Fairfield had always spoken
to him when they met.
But when it came to Bidwell's recognition of Mr. Fairfield
on the evening of the 17th, things became less definite.
"I certainly thought it was Mr. Fairfield, sir, and I was
rather surprised that he didn't take any notice of me."
"What made you think that it was Mr. Fairfield?" Hanslet
asked.
"Well, sir, I thought he came out of the house where Mr.
Fairfield's office is."
"You thought!" Hanslet exclaimed irritably. "Now look
here, Bidwell, let's try and get something definite. You saw
this man come out of one of the houses in Hatton Garden.
How far were you away at the time?"
Bidwell hesitated. "Maybe fifty yards, maybe a bit more,
sir," he replied.
"Can you swear that he came out of the house in which
Patton & Fairfield's office is situated?"
"No, sir," said Bidwell hastily. "I couldn't swear to it.
But he must have come out of that house or one of the others
close to it."
"Did he pass close to you after he came out?"
"Not exactly close, sir. He was on one side of the street
and I was on the other."
Hanslet picked up an almanac and consulted it. "The
sun set at 7.13 on the 17th," he said. "What was the light
like when you saw this man?"
"Sort of betwixt and between, sir. It wasn't exactly dark,
but the lamps weren't giving much light."
"Could you see the man's face distinctly?"
"Well, not exactly distinctly, sir. But from the sight I got
of it, I thought he looked like Mr. Fairfield. And he was the


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
181
On his return to Scotland Yard, Hanslet found nothing to
claim his attention. He therefore decided upon a second visit
to Grantham. Here he interviewed the local police with a
request that he might be shown the report for Wednesday
the 19th.
The reports were produced but they contained nothing out
of the ordinary, until the inspector who had received Hanslet
came to the case of the two bicycles.
"That was rather a peculiar thing," he said. "Though I
don't see that it can have any possible bearing on your in-
quiries, superintendent."
"I may as well hear about it, all the same," Hanslet replied.
"Very well, then, I'll tell you the story. At 6.20 p.m. on
Wednesday the 19th, we received a telephone message from
the constable stationed at Lingby, about five miles from here.
He reported that a bicycle had been stolen in Lingby and that
he suspected that it had been ridden into the town. It turned
out subsequently that the bicycle belonged to the local car-
penter. He had a job to do at an isolated cottage and had left
his bicycle outside the gate about half-past four that after-
noon. When he finished work at six o'clock, the bicycle was
no longer there. He had been compelled to walk home, and
happening to meet the constable on the way he told him of
the theft. The bicycle was found that same evening by one of
our chaps, abandoned outside a public lavatory in the town.
Next morning it was shown to the Lingby carpenter who
identified it as his."
"Smart bit of work," said Hanslet approvingly. "But I
don't see anything peculiar about it."
"Wait a minute," the inspector replied. "You haven't heard
the other half of the story. At 7.35 that evening, a man walked
in here and asked to see me. I happened to know him person-
ally—he's a clerk in one of the insurance offices in the town.


184
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
The Paris Surete had interviewed Le Maistre Freres of
the Rue de la Paix. This firm of diamond merchants were in
close business association with Messrs. Patton & Fairfield.
M. Auguste Le Maistre was a personal friend of Fairfield's.
During the past few weeks, Fairfield had twice visited him.
The first occasion had been on the morning of Thursday,
August 6th. Fairfield had then told him that the owner of the
Wherwell diamonds wished to sell them. At the moment he
was asking far too high a price, but it was possible that he
might be persuaded to accept more reasonable terms. Fair-
field had promised M. Le Maistre that he would keep him
advised of further developments.
Fairfield's second visit had been on the afternoon of Thurs-
day 20th. On this occasion he had told M. Le Maistre that,
since he was on holiday, he had heard nothing further about
the diamonds. But he proposed to stay for a few days in Paris,
and if M. Le Maistre was interested, he would put a tele-
phone call through to his partner next morning and ask for the
latest news. M. Le Maistre had asked him to do so since he
had a prospective customer for the diamonds. However, next
morning he had received a note from Mr. Fairfield, written
from the hotel at which he was staying, saying that he had
been suddenly recalled to London. M. Le Maistre had met
Mr. Patton on more than one occasion, but had seen or heard
nothing of him for the past few weeks.
This fully confirmed all that Fairfield had said. But it
threw no light upon Patton's present whereabouts. From the
moment of his telephone conversation with M. Baudin, neither
the French nor the Belgian police could offer any suggestion
as to what might have become of him. Nor had their inquiries
thrown any light upon the fate of the Wherwell diamonds.
While Hanslet had been thus occupied, Jimmy had not been
idle. He received a message from the police at Shipsfield which


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
185
seemed to make Cartmell's behaviour more inexplicable than
ever.
In accordance with his request, the police of that town had
been making inquiries locally. A butcher whose shop was
situated in the London Road had now made a statement which
might be of interest. Shortly before seven o'clock on the eve-
ning of Tuesday 18th, the butcher was shutting up shop for
the night. While he was doing so, a green Comet car pulled
up outside. A tallish man in shabby clothes and wearing wide
horn-rimmed glasses got out of it. The butcher remembered
that the gentleman had a big moustache. The gentleman had
asked him if he had any bullock's liver, saying that he wanted
it for a Siamese cat which would eat nothing else.
As it happened, the butcher had a piece of bullock's liver
exhibited in the window. He had asked the gentleman how
much he wanted, and the latter had replied about two pounds.
And he had said that the bloodier it was the better, for his
cat was very particular and would not eat liver if it was too
dry. The butcher had cut off two pounds of liver, wrapped it
in paper and given it to the gentleman, who laid it on the seat
beside him. The gentleman had then driven off in the direction
of London. The butcher was quite certain that he was alone
in the car.
Jimmy shook his head in despair over this. The purchase
of the liver certainly accounted for the blood-stain on the
cushion of Cartmell's car. But what in the name of heaven did
it all mean? Cartmell's purchases on that hectic Tuesday had
certainly not lacked variety. A hearse, an inordinate quantity
of alcohol, a coffin, and now two pounds of bullock's liver.
Was the man a lunatic, whose mania was meaningless practi-
cal jokes? Or was it possible that he really had a cousin who
was an undertaker, and a Siamese cat which could eat nothing
but bullock's liver?


186
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
This question being unanswerable, Jimmy decided to fol-
low Dr. Priestley's advice. He drew up a full description of
the hearse, with the instructions that this should be circulated
to the police in the southern counties. They would visit the
garages and the filling stations in their respective areas in
the hope of tracing the movements of the hearse after it left
Reading. This accomplished, Jimmy took a train to Fallow-
church to confer with Sergeant Playne.
The sergeant was glad enough to see him. Alf Pantony's
adventure, told and re-told in the bar of the Green Bear and
elsewhere, had lost its freshness and was growing distinctly
musty. But it still rankled in the sergeant's mind. The village,
to a man, regarded it as a huge joke against him. He had,
perhaps unguardedly, stated quite definitely that the body
found in the tar boiler was Alf Pantony's, and a few days later
Alf had turned up bright and smiling to refute him. People
grinned offensively when they met him. Dr. Menslowe had so
far forgotten the respect due to the police as to hail him
across the road one morning. "Hallo, sergeant, you haven't
found my body lying about anywhere, have you?"
In any case, there was the original body still unaccounted
for. Certainly, it lay in the churchyard, but it refused to
moulder into forgetfulness. The coroner, with the adjourned
inquest on his mind, was beginning to ask awkward questions.
Were the police not yet ready with evidence which would
enable the jury to return a verdict? The state of affairs was
most unsatisfactory.
Jimmy listened sympathetically to the sergeant's catalogue
of woes. But he could suggest no remedy. There was nothing
for it but to wait as patiently as possible for some clue to the
identity of the dead man. Meanwhile it might be of use to
trace Cartmell's movements during his stay in the country.
Then began yet another business of descriptions and in-


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
187
quiries. This time the descriptions were of Cartmell and his
car, and the inquiries were directed to garages, hotels and
inns. By the instructions of the chief constable, the police
throughout the county were set to work to see people who
might have seen or done business with the missing man.
Partly because of Cartmell's somewhat unusual appear-
ance, and partly because he seemed to have made himself
known wherever he appeared, these inquiries were immedi-
ately successful. So successful, in fact, that Jimmy was en-
abled to compile a diary of his movements from the date of his
arrival at Fallowchurch until his disappearance. This diary
was naturally somewhat fragmentary and lacked detail. But
it certainly suggested that Cartmell had business of some
kind in the south-eastern towns.
This diary, as compiled and finally elaborated by Jimmy,
was as follows:
August 4th, Tuesday. Cartmell arrives in his car at the
Green Bear, Fallowchurch, about 6 p.m. Comes to terms with
Wedgwood and arranges to stay in the house until further
notice. Source of information Wedgwood. Confirmation of
Cartmell's presence at the Green Bear during that evening
by several regular customers.
August 5th, Wednesday. Cartmell leaves the Green Bear
in his car some time during the morning, telling Mrs. Wedg-
wood that he might not be back that night. Source of informa-
tion Mrs. Wedgwood. She is sure of the date because it was
the morning after Cartmell's arrival.
A man answering to Cartmell's description and driving a
green Comet car lunched at the Duke's Head, Ashford, some
time between one and two p.m. Sources of information head
waiter and garage attendant at the Duke's Head. Former re-
ports that Cartmell in conversation with him said that he had
important business in the town and asked when the last post
went out.


190
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
the following day and asks whether Wedgwood or Mrs. Wedg-
wood would care to come. Wedgwood accepts his offer. Sources
of information Wedgwood and customers of Green Bear.
August 12th, Wednesday. Cartmell and Wedgwood leave
Green Bear at 11.30 a.m. They drive straight to Maidstone
where Cartmell leaves car in the yard of the Royal Star Hotel.
Cartmell tells Wedgwood to meet him there 3 p.m. Wedgwood
does so punctually and Cartmell appears a few minutes later.
They drive back to the Green Bear. Cartmell tells Wedgwood
that he will have to go to London next day to see his firm.
Source of information Wedgwood.
August 13th, Thursday. Cartmell leaves the Green Bear
at 7.45 a.m. in order to catch the 8.03 to London. He is seen to
enter this train. He returns to the Green Bear at 10.35 p.m.,
stating that he has just come back from London by the last
train. He complains that his firm have put more work upon
his shoulders and that he will be driven off his feet for the
next couple of days.
August 14th, Friday. Cartmell leaves Green Bear in car
about 8 a.m., telling Mrs. Wedgwood that he is very doubtful
that he will get back that night. Man answering to his descrip-
tion and driving car GX 692, arrives at Taylor's Garage,
Folkestone, about 10.15 a.m. Attendant recognizes him as the
man whom he saw on the 5th and 6th. Cartmell says that he
wishes to leave his car overnight as he again has important
business in the town.
Note: Inquiries at hotels and boarding-houses again fail
to reveal any trace of Cartmell's presence in Folkestone that
night.
August 15th, Saturday. Cartmell collects his car from Tay-
lor's L irage, Folkestone, about 8.30 p.m. He returns to the
Green Bear shortly before 11 p.m.
August 16th, Sunday. Cartmell does not leave the Green
Bear but repeats his programme of the previous Sunday.
August 17th, Monday. Cartmell leaves Fallowchurch by


JIMMY GETS A SHOCK
191
train, ostensibly for London. He returns to the Green Bear at
10.35 p.m., as already ascertained.
August 18th, Tuesday. Cartmell and Pantony leave the
Green Bear about 11 a.m.
Jimmy and the sergeant studied the items of this diary
very carefully. To the sergeant it seemed to establish Cart-
mell's bona fides.
"That's just the way you'd expect a commercial to carry
on," he said. "A commercial has to go and see his firm some-
times and get orders. That, you may be sure, is what Cartmell
was up to when he went to London. For the rest, we've got
traces of him in several towns round about. Folkestone, Maid-
stone, Heme Bay, Canterbury, Sheerness. All the likely
places for a commercial to visit."
"Yes, but why is it that we only get traces of him in pubs
and garages?" Jimmy objected.
"Because we haven't made inquiries anywhere else,"
Playne replied with sturdy common sense. "I daresay you'd
find if you went round the business folk that several of them
knew Cartmell well enough. It's my belief that there was no
harm in the chap, beyond a fondness for playing practical
jokes."
"That's all very well," said Jimmy. "But what's become
of him? Why did he dump Pantony at Shipsfield? Why, after
sending him a wire that he'd meet him here last Monday, did
he never turn up? And why, in heaven's name, did he buy two
pounds of bullock's liver and make that filthy mess on the
seat of his car?" j*I
Playne shrugged his shoulders. "Something unexpected
may have happened to him," he replied. "You never know
with commercials. They're always at the beck and call of their
firms. Perhaps Cartmell was sent away to the North of Eng-


192
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
land at a moment's notice. Or perhaps he met with an accident
after he left the Passway Garage and hasn't been able to get
about since."
Jimmy shook his head. "It's no good, sergeant," he said. "I
simply can't bring myself to believe that Cartmell was as
innocent as all that. How do you explain the hearse business,
even supposing that the hearse had nothing whatever to do
with the body found by Gurney in the tar boiler?"
"Very likely what he told Alf Pantony was true. For all we
know he may have a cousin who's in the undertaking business.
And likely enough it was the cousin who collected the hearse
from Reading."
"Then why on earth did he give the name of Ambrose, and
why did he abandon the hearse outside our friend Wedgwood's
front door? I'd like to remind you that the hearse is still in
Quain's place and that nobody has turned up to claim it."
But the sergeant's imagination was not to be roused.
"Maybe the cousin will come and fetch it when he wants it,"
he replied.
"If he does I shall have a hell of a lot of questions to ask
him. Let's have another look at that diary and see if it will
give us any ideas."
But a second inspection of the diary failed to suggest any-
thing very startling.
During Cartmell's stay at Fallowchurch, he had only spent
two nights away from the Green Bear. During these two
nights his car had been garaged at Folkestone. The fact that
he himself had not stayed at an hotel or a boarding-house
there seemed of no particular significance in the light of his
remark to the garage attendant. He had probably found his
friends at home and stayed with them. For the rest, as the
sergeant maintained, the diary suggested the itinerary of a
commercial traveller.





Part Four
Dr. Priestley Comes to the Rescue





202
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
afternoon when he resumed the Cartmell personality. In
which case he would not be recognized during the interval."
"When and where do you suppose that the murder was
committed?"
"Not very far from Fallowchurch, sir, and some time be-
tween noon on the 19th and the early morning of the 20th.
And I am inclined to think that the murderer had resumed
his true personality before he met his victim. The hearse was
employed for the conveyance of the body from the scene of
the crime to the tar boiler."
"Have you come to any conclusion as to the part played
by Alfred Pantony?"
"I think his role was purely passive, sir. Cartmell selected
him because he was the very man he wanted. He had no
regular work and was in possession of a small sum of money.
You may be sure that Cartmell had heard all about him be-
fore he had been twenty-four hours at the Green Bear. But
what appealed to Cartmell most were Pantony's harelip and
deformed ear. One can't help being struck by Cartmell's ef-
forts to make himself conspicuous; the flowing moustache,
wide-rimmed glasses and shabby clothes to begin with. Every
one who has described him has remarked upon these points.
As a general rule, commercial travellers don't specialize in a
farouche appearance. It would hardly be considered an
advertisement for the firm they represented. And, not content
with taking pains to be easily recognized, Cartmell was al-
ways ready to tell his name and hint at his alleged business to
any one who cared to listen to him. And, for the last scene of
his masquerade, he chose a companion even more conspicu-
ous than himself. The pair of them were not likely to be for-
gotten by any one who had seen them."
"That's very interesting," said Oldland, who had hitherto
taken no part in the conversation. "I begin to understand the


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 203
fellow rather better than I did. His masquerade, as you call it,
was merely a curtain-raiser for the central tragedy."
"That's what I believe," Jimmy replied. "He had planned
a murder of which one of the essential features was that the
body of his victim should not be recognizable. He knew that
the desired result could be achieved by boiling the body in tar.
He was aware that a tar boiler was at work between Fallow-
church and Dimbury, but the body had to be conveyed from
the scene of the crime to the tar boiler. Cartmell had no doubt
realized that the conveyance of dead bodies is rather a ticklish
business. But there was one method of conveyance which
could give rise to no comment. Not even the most inquisitive
policeman would stop the driver of a hearse and ask incon-
venient questions about his deceased passenger. Hence the
preliminary masquerade, which had more than one object. It
provided a false identity for the murderer and his victim, and
it misled the police, at all events during the early stages of the
investigation."
"It strikes me as being a pretty clever dodge," said Old-
land. "The problem he's set you is almost insoluble, to my
mind. You said just now that sooner or later you would dis-
cover the probable identity of the dead man. Suppose you do.
Suppose you collect evidence which proves with practical
certainty that he was a certain Mr. Jones. You make inquiries
about this Mr. Jones and you find that he had a savage and
relentless enemy in Mr. Brown. The assumption is, then, that
Brown murdered Jones.
"But how could you possibly prove it? Are you in a position
to state that Jones was murdered? The fact that his body was
found in a tar boiler does not prove it. He might have been
killed accidentally and his body thrown into the boiler to
avoid awkward questions.
"However, we will suppose that the presumption of murder


204
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
is sufficiently strong to justify the next step. The individual
who placed the body in the tar boiler was undoubtedly the
murderer. The probability is that this individual was Brown
posing as Cartmell. But again, how can you prove it? You
know nothing whatever of Cartmell's movements after ten
p.m. on the 18th. You know that he incited Pantony to buy
the hearse and gave him the money to pay for it. But you
don't know that it was Cartmell who drove the hearse away
from Reading on the following day. Finally, it would be very
difficult to establish satisfactorily that Brown the murderer
and Cartmell the commercial traveller were one and the same.
What do you say, Priestley?"
"I say that the inspector's problem is to be approached
from an entirely different direction," Dr. Priestley replied.
"Considered by itself the problem is, as you say, well-nigh
insoluble. But taking it in conjunction with its sequel many
of the difficulties disappear."
"It's sequel!" Oldland exclaimed. "The only sequel to the
adventures of Cartmell has been the return of Pantony to the
land of the living."
"The only obvious sequel, perhaps," Dr. Priestley replied.
"But one fact which seems to me very significant appears to
have escaped attention. Inspector Waghorn speaks of Cart-
mell's masquerade as the prelude to a crime. What was the
crime?"
"Why, murder, of course," Oldland replied. "The unidenti-
fied body is sufficient evidence of that."
"And yet, as you have justly pointed out to the inspector,
the body itself affords no proof that a murder has been com-
mitted."
Hanslet, who had been listening impatiently, could stand
this no longer. "But, hang it all, professor," he exclaimed, "if
Cartmell's crime wasn't murder, what was it?"


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 205
"In the absence of definite proofs, I am not prepared to
say," Dr. Priestley replied. "But I would point out that
Cartmell's last appearance in public was on the day preceding
the disappearance of the Wherwell diamonds."
Hanslet and Jimmy stared first at Dr. Priestley and then
at one another. Then after a few moments of intense silence,
the superintendent spoke. "Don't let us interrupt you, pro-
fessor," he said quietly.
Dr. Priestley smiled. "I have very little further to say on
that point. At present there is no apparent link between Cart-
mell and the diamonds. You and the inspector have each
taken a friendly interest in the case upon which the other was
engaged. But, being quite properly absorbed in your own
cases, your interest has not amounted to detailed examination.
A disinterested spectator, supplied with details of both, might
legitimately conjecture that some connexion existed between
them."
"I'm bound to say that I can't see any obvious connexion,"
Hanslet remarked.
"Because you have not sufficiently studied the time-table
compiled by the inspector, nor has he studied yours. I propose
to devote considerable attention to both.
"Let us see if and when there is any correspondence be-
tween those time-tables of events. I have already pointed out
that Cartmell's adventures ended on the day before the dia-
monds disappeared. That in itself is hardly significant. But
let us examine the events of Monday the 17th. On that day
Cartmell reached Fallowchurch from London by train at
10.28. That train, I have ascertained, leaves Charing Cross
at 9.05 and London Bridge at 9.16.
"We now come to the statement of Mr. Fairfield, as con-
firmed by Bidwell the policeman. It is possible, I will not use
a stronger word than that, that an unknown man came out


206
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
of the offices of Patton and Fairfield about 8 p.m. This man
would have had plenty of time to catch the train by which
Cartmell reached Fallowchurch."
"Hold on a minute, professor," Hanslet exclaimed. "Bid-
well mistook this unknown man for Fairfield and he must
therefore have borne some sort of resemblance to him. But
Fairfield isn't in the least like Jimmy's description of Cart-
mell."
"That is one of the difficulties with which you have to con-
tend," Dr. Priestley replied. "The personality of Cartmell
was, as the inspector believes, an assumed one. Probably no
single person has seen both Cartmell and Mr. Fairfield. It is
impossible to establish whether the individual who assumed
the personality of Cartmell bears any resemblance to Mr.
Fairfield or not. I merely point out that this individual might
have been seen by the policeman in his true shape and would
then have had time to assume the disguise of Cartmell and
catch the train to Fallowchurch. Further, in the course of his
visit to the office, he would have learnt the particulars of Mr.
Patton's proposed journey with the diamonds to Holmden
Hall."
"In other words, this man Cartmell was Patton's con-
federate?" Hanslet suggested.
"I am not formulating a theory, but merely pointing out
the possibilities. Now, passing over Tuesday, let us turn to
the time-table of events of Wednesday the 19th. On that day
the hearse was driven away from Reading about 12.30. It is
stated that when it left the petrol tank was full. The inspector
has told us that he estimates the capacity of the tank as twelve
gallons and the petrol consumption of the hearse as 15 miles
to the gallon. Now, I have ascertained that the distance from
Reading to Grantham by the most direct road is approxi-
mately one hundred and thirty miles. Now, inspector, what


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 209
interest you. On Fridays, throughout the year special week-
end tickets are issued to Boulogne from Folkestone, and to
Ostend from Dover. Passengers holding these tickets may
return on any day until the following Tuesday and no pass-
ports are required."
"But we're not talking about a Friday, professor," said
Hanslet patiently. "It was on Thursday morning that the
hearse was found at Fallowchurch. However, there's no great
difficulty about the passport. Patton could easily have pro-
vided himself with a second one in another name. How long
would it take him to get to Dunkerque from Boulogne?"
It was Oldland who answered this question. "Say about
two or three hours by train or car," he said.
"So he wouldn't have got to Dunkerque before well on in
the afternoon," remarked Hanslet thoughtfully. "That helps
to account for his not ringing up M. Baudin before six. But
you haven't yet offered any suggestion about the body, pro-
fessor."
"The body, as the inspector has assured us, was unidenti-
fiable," Dr. Priestley replied gravely. "But I cannot help be-
ing struck by the fact that the whereabouts of both Patton
and Cartmell remain undiscovered."
Hanslet whistled softly. "By jove, that's an idea!" he ex-
claimed. "You're suggesting that the crooks quarrelled and
that one of them knocked the other on the head, then shot his
body into the tar boiler. That sort of thing has happened
often enough before now, I'll admit. We know that the body
can't be Patton's. It was found early on Thursday morning
and Patton rang up M. Baudin from Dunkerque at six o'clock
that evening. Therefore, according to your suggestion, the
body must have been Cartmell's. What have you got to say
about that, Jimmy?"
"It's a possibility that's been at the back of my mind for


210
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
some time," Jimmy replied. "But Cartmell has generally been
described as being fairly tall. The doctors say that the body
is that of a man about five foot eight. People would not notice
a man of that height as being particularly tall."
"I don't think there's very much in that," said Hanslet.
"According to you this chap Cartmell must have been a bit
of an artist in disguises. It's not a very difficult thing for any-
body to give an impression of being two or three inches taller
than he really is. And, by jove, if Patton has murder on his
conscience as well as robbery, no wonder he was agitated
when he rang up M. Baudin. But, professor, the question still
remains, who is this chap who posed as Cartmell? Your sug-
gestion that it was his body that was found in the tar boiler
seems to put Sir Stanislaus out of the picture, doesn't it?"
"I would point out that is was your suggestion, not mine,
that the body was Cartmell's," Dr. Priestley said mildly.
Hanslet laughed. "We don't quarrel about that, professor,"
he said. "It was your suggestion that the body was either Pat-
ton's or Cartmell's, and since we know that it couldn't be Pat-
ton's, it must have been Cartmell's. However, I was going to
tell you about Sir Stanislaus. I've thought for some time that
Patton must have had an accomplice in this affair. And the
most likely person seemed to me to be Sir Stanislaus. In the
first place, he concealed the true reason for the diamonds be-
ing brought to London. And in the second, his behaviour on
the day they disappeared has always seemed to me rather odd.
Why did he send his chauffeur to meet Patton that night at
Swineshead Station instead of going himself?
"Now, while I was at Grantham the other day I made a few
discreet inquiries about Sir Stanislaus. As it happened the
Grantham inspector, before his promotion, had been sta-
tioned at Swineshead as a sergeant, and he knew Sir Stanis-
laus pretty well. He told me that he was popularly supposed


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 211
to have run through a lot of money and to have been pretty
hard put to it from time to time to find any more. Lady Wher-
well was a rich woman when he married her, but it's doubtful
whether she is still. And Holmden Hall is heavily mortgaged."
"His father was that way inclined, so I've always heard,"
Oldland remarked. "What is this man's particular form of
extravagance?"
"Horse-racing. They say that he's never at home, but is
always gadding about the country to some race-meeting or
other. The inspector told me that there was a very popular
local event on Wednesday the 19th and that he was sure to
have been at it."
"That might explain why he sent his chauffeur to meet Pat-
ton," Oldland remarked. "Perhaps he didn't get back from
the races in time to go to the station himself."
"I daresay you're right," Hanslet replied. "In any case, if
the professor is on the right track Sir Stanislaus doesn't come
into the affair. I thought for an instant just now, when the
professor showed us that Cartmell might have been Patton's
confederate, that Cartmell might have been Sir Stanislaus in
disguise. But that won't do, for Sir Stanislaus was very much
alive when I met him at King's Cross on Thursday afternoon.
I'm bound to say, professor, that you've given us plenty of
room for thought this evening. From this moment Jimmy and
I shall work hand in hand. Two heads are better than one,
even if they're sheep's heads as they say. Come along, Jimmy,
we'll get back to the Yard and have a chat about all this."
When the two policemen had left the house, Oldland poured
himself out another whisky and soda. He took a generous sip
of it, then laid it down on the table beside him. "You always
were an aggravating bloke, Priestley," he said. "You've got
an irritating knack of telling half a story and then shutting
up like an oyster. I believe you've a pretty shrewd idea of


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 213
a mile from where they stood. But, as his informant warned
him, there was nothing left of the place now, but the bare
walls.
This information did not deter Dr. Priestley, and he and
Harold set off on foot. Their way took them for some distance
along a country lane, apparently very little used, for the grass
verges had been allowed to grow unchecked.
At length they came to a high wall bordering the lane. In
this wall was a wide gap with rotting posts on either side,
where the entrance gates of the mill-yard had once hung.
They passed through this gap to find themselves in a paved
court. Grass and weeds had grown up between the stones and
the whole place bore a look of utter desolation. At the further
side of the court rose the gaunt shell of a roofless building,
revealing through its unglazed windows the rusty limbs of
some unwieldly machine.
Even in the sunlight of the August afternoon, the place had
an air of almost terrifying loneliness. The only sound which
greeted Dr. Priestley and Harold as they entered the court-
yard was the hollow echo of their own footsteps. When these
ceased an utter silence supervened. The two intruders upon
this solitude might have been visitors to an uninhabited world.
Dr. Priestley looked critically round the courtyard. It'
measured perhaps eighty feet by fifty and was surrounded
on all sides by a high wall which, having been stoutly built,
had resisted the ravages of time and was still in reasonable
repair. The only gaps in this wall were the ruined gateway by
which they had entered the yard and the doorway of the mill
itself, now almost filled up by a heap of rubbish.
"The gateway is amply wide enough to admit a car," said
Dr. Priestley. "Once within the yard here and driven close
against the outer wall, it would be practically invisible from
any one passing along the roadway. Especially towards sun-


214
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
set, when the shadow of the mill-house would be thrown
across the yard."
"There's a mark on the stones inside the gateway which
looks as if it had been made by the tire of a motor car,"
Harold remarked.
"Very possibly. Unfortunately, we cannot identify the car
from so indistinct a mark. But we should not, I think, be
wasting our time if we instituted a search for something more
tangible."
Harold took the hint and began slowly to pace the court-
yard, his eyes fixed upon the ground. It was not very long be-
fore he made a discovery. He caught sight of a glint of white
metal half-hidden by the weeds which grew between the
stones. Bending down to pick it up, he found that it was a
sixpenny piece.
Dr. Priestley nodded his approval. "Excellent!" he ex-
claimed. "But this coin is no better evidence of identity than
the supposed track of the motor car tire. It merely suggests
that other people besides ourselves have been here compara-
tively recently. Perhaps we shall find other evidences of their
visit."
Thereupon Harold continued his search. Within the next
few minutes, he found three more coins, two shillings and a
penny. The positions in which he found them suggested that
they had fallen upon one of the paving stones and rolled away
to lie concealed by the grass and weeds.
"I can't make it out," said Harold, as he retrieved the
fourth coin. "It looks as if somebody had dropped a pocket-
ful of money on these stones. I suppose he picked up as many
of the coins as he could see, but he can't have wasted much
time looking for these. They could have been found easily
enough by any one who knew in which direction they had
rolled."


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 217
favourite chair with a bottle of beer within his reach, Dr.
Priestley offered his deferred explanation.
"It has always seemed to me that in the case of the Wher-
well diamonds, your chain of facts possessed one very weak
link. Up to a point the sequence of events was satisfactorily
established. It is almost certain that Mr. Patton left King's
Cross by the four o'clock train on the nineteenth with the
diamonds in his possession. There is, again, very little doubt
that he left Grantham Station shortly after the arrival of that
train at six-two. But here comparative certainty must give
place to conjecture. What became of Mr. Patton during the
hour immediately following his surrender of the outward half
of his ticket?"
"My first idea was that he came back to the station, bought
himself another ticket and caught the next train to London,"
Hanslet replied. "But after your suggestions about Jimmy's
hearse and Patton's possible confederate, I'm not so sure."
"For my part I am now fully convinced that more than one
person was concerned in the disappearance of the diamonds,"
said Dr. Priestley. "Let us assume that this confederate was
the driver of the hearse, either Cartmell or some other person.
I have already pointed out that it is possible that Mr. Patton's
journey was continued from Grantham in the hearse.
"But an obvious difficulty presents itself. A hearse travel-
ling along a main road among other traffic would not attract
any particular attention. But a hearse standing in a station
yard would certainly be noticed and its presence would be
remembered. Further, if a passenger had entered the hearse
which had then driven away, the incident would certainly
have caused some comment. The point is this. If the hearse
were the vehicle in which Mr. Patton left Grantham, he cer-
tainly did not join it openly in the station yard.
"Where then did he join it? The answer to this question was


218
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
suggested to me by your account of your conversation with
the inspector at Grantham. The episode of the two bicycles
led to the mention of Lingby Mill, described as a deserted
spot five miles from Grantham. What more suitable spot could
be found for the commencement of Mr. Patton's journey as
a passenger on the hearse?"
"Not having been there I can't say," said Hanslet without
any very great show of interest.
"It is perhaps a pity that your curiosity was not sufficiently
aroused. However, Harold and I, having nothing better to do,
made an expedition there to-day. And I think I may say that
our time and trouble are fully justified."
"You've been to Lingby Mill?" Hanslet exclaimed incred-
ulously. "What on earth made you do that, professor?"
"The insatiable curiosity of which I've never been able to
cure myself," replied Dr. Priestley, with a smile. "We found
that the mill was indeed deserted and apparently very rarely
visited. I could hardly have believed that on a Sunday after-
noon in summer so unfrequented a spot could be found in the
whole of England. However, by dint of search, Harold en-
abled me to discover traces of previous human occupation. I
have here the results of his labours, which may interest you."
From his desk Dr. Priestley produced an envelope which
he handed to the superintendent. "You may care to open
that," he said.
Hanslet tore the envelope open and poured its contents into
the palm of his hand. Two shillings, a penny, a sixpence, and
a faded piece of pasteboard. He stared at these for a moment
or two and then as he recognized the piece of pasteboard his
eyes lighted up.
"By jove, a railway ticket!" he exclaimed. "First class
Grantham to London. Why, it's the return half of the ticket
issued to Patton at King's Cross!"


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 219
"You confirm my own suspicions," said Dr. Priestley dryly.
"And the ticket, I think, confirms my theory that it was at
Lingby Mill that Mr. Patton met the hearse. If, indeed, it was
the hearse and not some other vehicle."
"Well, you've beaten me again, professor, and I'm the first
to admit it," said Hanslet. "But it's not by any means clear to
me yet. How far is Lingby Mill from Grantham Station?"
"Fully five miles. It took Harold and me nearly a quarter
of an hour to drive from the station to the inn at Lingby."
"Then how do you suggest that Patton got there? Did he
walk all that distance carrying a suitcase and a satchel?"
"I think it most unlikely. But possibly the episode of the
two stolen bicycles may suggest a means."
"Why, what on earth can the bicycles have had to do with
it?" Hanslet exclaimed.
"There is no proof that they had anything to do with it.
But let us enter upon a little careful speculation. We calcu-
lated last night that the hearse might have reached the neigh-
bourhood of Grantham at about five-thirty on the afternoon
of the nineteenth. Let us suppose that the hearse was driven,
not to Grantham but to Lingby Mill, by the man who called
himself Cartmell. His intention, no doubt, was to meet Mr.
Patton's train and to convey him to the waiting hearse at
Lingby Mill.
"Since the train was due at six-two he found himself with
little more than half an hour in which to cover five miles.
Realizing that he could not accomplish this feat on foot, he
looked round for a more rapid means of transport. Fortune
favoured him in the shape of this unattended bicycle belong-
ing to the carpenter. He borrowed this and rode it into Gran-
tham. There he abandoned it, met Mr. Patton and conveyed
him to Lingby Mill."
"Hold on a minute, professor," Hanslet interrupted. "How


220
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
did Cartmell convey Patton to Lingby Mill?"
"That question we will discuss later," Dr. Priestley replied.
"For the moment let us confine ourselves to speculation upon
Cartmell's movements.
"We will suppose that he and Mr. Patton arrived at Lingby
Mill somewhere about half past six. The position then was
this. The hearse was more or less securely hidden in the yard
of the mill. But there was also the conveyance which had
brought Mr. Patton from the station and was now no longer
required. This could not be left at Lingby Mill. Sooner or
later it would be discovered and would form a valuable clue.
It must be returned to the place from which it had come.
"What I believe to have happened is this. Cartmell left Mr.
Patton and the hearse at Lingby Mill and drove the convey-
ance back to Grantham. Having disposed of it, he was again
faced with the necessity of covering the distance between
Lingby Mill and Grantham, but this time in the reverse direc-
tion. He was not anxious to leave Mr. Patton and the hearse
longer than was absolutely necessary. The carpenter's bicycle
had served him well, but it would not be safe to use it again in
case its loss should already have been discovered and notified.
He therefore borrowed a second bicycle and rode it back to
Lingby Mill, where it was discovered by the local constable
later that night. Upon his return to the mill the hearse and its
occupants began their journey to Fallowchurch. You will, I
think, find that the times of the theft of the respective bicycles
are in accordance with this theory.
"Now, I believe we are in a better position to consider the
nature of the conveyance used to take Mr. Patton to the mill.
It was almost certainly a motor vehicle of some kind. Cart-
mell must have driven it himself, for he would not have cared
to have a witness to his actions. He would not have ventured
to hire a car to drive himself, for this would have led to too


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 221
many inquiries. The most plausible alternative is, I think,
that he used his own car for the purpose."
"Hold on, there's a snag there," Hanslet exclaimed. "Didn't
Jimmy tell us that Cartmell's car was driven into the Passway
Garage at ten o'clock on Tuesday night and had been there
ever since?"
"I see no reason why he should not have owned two cars,"
Dr. Priestley replied. "The first was the green Comet GX 692
which he used for his masquerade at Fallowchurch. The sec-
ond is at present entirely unknown to us. But there exists a
very faint clue which may eventually lead to its identification.
The second bicycle, as you were told, was stolen outside the
Fountain public house which adjoins the garage of the South
Lincolnshire Motor Company. That suggests that it was in
this garage that the conveyance was deposited."
"I'm going back again to Grantham by the first train to-
morrow," said Hanslet. "Perhaps the people at the garage
may remember something about it. Do you suppose that Cart-
mell fetched the car from there, too?"
"I think it probable that the car had spent the greater part
of Wednesday at some other garage," Dr. Priestley replied.
"Still assuming that Cartmell was the person concerned, let
us try to follow his movements. It seems unlikely that he left
the car at Grantham for any length of time. In all probability
he deposited it there shortly before it would be required.
"Now I have here a copy of the inspector's time-table of
events. Two items upon it are significant to our present pur-
pose. Cartmell left the green Comet car in the Passway Ga-
rage at 10 p.m. on the eighteenth. The hearse was called for
at Reading at 12.30 p.m. on the nineteenth. Assuming that it
was Cartmell who called for it, how had he occupied the inter-
vening fourteen hours?"
Hanslet shook his head. "Not lying quietly at home, in bed,


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 223
Priestley. "No doubt you and the inspector will devote all
your energies to endeavouring to trace this man Cartmell."
Hanslet shrugged his shoulders. "The poor chap is traced
already in one sense," he replied. "There can't be any reason-
able doubt now that his was the body found in the tar boiler.
But what we shall do is to try to find out who he really was.
Even then I don't know that we shall be a lot further towards
laying our hands on Patton."
"The evidence against Patton may be regarded as conclu-
sive, I suppose?"
"I don't see how it could be more so. There's not a shadow
of doubt that he left London with the diamonds in his satchel.
He had led every one to suppose that his intention was to de-
liver them to Sir Stanislaus at Holmden Hall. Instead of that
he breaks his journey at Grantham, and, as this railway ticket
shows, went out to Lingby Mill. That in itself would take a
bit of explaining away. But it isn't all by any means. He took
his passport with him, which is pretty definite proof that his
real destination was not Holmden Hall, but somewhere
abroad. Finally, he is heard of in France next day alive and
well, though not unnaturally agitated. I don't think anybody
would stand much chance in the face of facts like that.
"But, of course, that's only so far as the theft of the dia-
monds is concerned. The murder charge is going to be a bit
more difficult. We shall have to know quite a lot more about
the relations between Patton and Cartmell before we proceed
with that. Well, I can't tell you how grateful I am for the dis-
coveries you've made, professor. I know I ought to have gone
to Lingby Mill and looked round for myself, but the signifi-
cance of those confounded bicycles didn't occur to me. Now,
if you don't mind, I'll get off home, for I want to make an
early start for Grantham to-morrow."
Before Hanslet went to bed that night he got into touch


224 BODY UNIDENTIFIED
I
with Jimmy, whom he told to meet him at King's Cross at
half-past eight next morning. Jimmy duly kept the appoint-
ment and the two travelled together to Grantham by the 8.45
a.m. train. They secured a carriage to themselves, and during
the journey Hanslet told Jimmy of the discovery of the rail-
way ticket.
"That definitely links up Patton with Lingby Mill," Jimmy
commented. "And I'm bound to confess that the professor's
theory of the movements of the hearse sounds most plausible.
But, actually, we haven't established any connexion between
Patton and Lingby Mill on the one hand, and Cartmell and
the hearse on the other."
"I'm hoping we'll be able to do that this morning," Hanslet
replied. "We know at all events that Patton must have had a
confederate. Somebody must have taken him to Lingby Mill
and driven him away from there afterwards. That somebody
may or may not have been Cartmell. But if it was Cartmell's
body that was found in the tar boiler, that would account for
his complete disappearance."
"I've been thinking about that over the week-end," said
Jimmy. "If Cartmell was killed during the night of Wednes-
day, who sent Pantony that telegram on the following Mon-
day? It's rather an interesting point, if you come to think
about it."
"Oh, any one can send a telegram!" Hanslet replied scorn-
fully.
"I know. But so far as we are aware nobody in London
knew that Pantony was at the White Swan at Shipsfield."
"Patton knew, of course. You may bet that he was fully
aware of every detail of the scheme. In fact, he probably
worked them all out and Cartmell merely obeyed his orders."
"That's just it," said Jimmy. "But don't forget that that
telegram was sent from London. Your suggestion would im-


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 225
ply that Patton, who was in Dunkerque on Thursday, had re-
turned to London by Monday."
"Hell!" exclaimed Hanslet violently. "That point hadn't
occurred to me. I made sure that the blighter was still abroad
somewhere trying to get rid of the diamonds. But of course,
it's quite possible that he had disposed of them somehow and
is safely back in this country. And I shouldn't wonder if Sir
Stanislaus is sheltering him. I've a very good mind to go on
to Holmden Hall and have a look round, though I don't sup-
pose for a moment we should find Patton there.
"However, there'll be time for that later. What we've got
to do this morning is this. We've got to go round all the ga-
rages in Grantham and make inquiries. According to the pro-
fessor, Cartmell must have parked his car early on the nine-
teenth and taken it out again shortly before six o'clock in the
afternoon. He must have brought it back either to the same
or to another garage between seven and half-past. Since he
hasn't had an opportunity of fetching it since then, it is prob-
ably still there. It will save time if we separate and take half
the garages each. Our rendezvous if we find out anything can
be the local police station. They know me there by this time."
As soon as they arrived at Grantham they put this pro-
gramme into operation. Hanslet began his quest at the garage
of the South Lincolnshire Motor Company, which, from its
proximity to the Fountain, seemed the most likely spot. He
found, as he had hoped, that a record was kept of all the cars
left there by their owners. This record showed that half a
dozen cars had been left in the garage between 6.30 p.m. and
7.30 p.m. on the nineteenth. But the manager assured him that
all of these, with one exception, belonged to regular customers
who were known to him personally. The exception was a car
with the number XYX 1035 which had been left at the garage
at 7.05 p.m.


226
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
Hanslet made a note of the number. "Is the car still here?"
he asked.
The manager consulted the register. "No, it was taken
away at 4.30 p.m. on Saturday the twenty-second."
"On Saturday!" Hanslet exclaimed. "I hardly expected
that. You can't tell me anything about the person who took it
away, I suppose?"
"I'm afraid I can't. But we'll send for the chap whose busi-
ness it is to issue and collect the garage tickets. He may re-
member something about it."
The attendant was sent for and the manager showed him
the register. "You've usually got a pretty good memory,
Tom," he said. "Do you remember anything about this car,
XYX 1035? It's a current London number, so the car must
have been pretty well new."
Tom, a thoroughly intelligent-looking man, thought for a
moment. "That will be that new fourteen-horse Solway sports
saloon," he replied. "I remember noticing it when the chap
drove it in here." 4
"Do you remember what the driver looked like?" Hanslet
asked.
"Yes, I do. He was a middle-aged chap, clean shaven and
dressed all in black with a bowler hat. I took him to be some-
body's butler, for he said he'd just left his master at the sta-
tion. He told me that the car would be garaged for two or three
days, and asked me to see that the wings didn't get scratched
for his master was very particular."
"Do you remember who fetched the car?"
"The same chap. He wanted the tank filled, and I put in
ten gallons. He told me then that he was just going to meet his
master at the station and asked me which was the best road
to Swineshead."
"The devil he did!" Hanslet exclaimed. "You haven't seen


228
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
"And he fetched the car again about six o'clock, you say?"
"That's right. It may have been a few minutes before six,
I wouldn't swear to it. He came running in here in a terrible
hurry, and said that he'd been kept much later than he had
expected. He'd asked me in the morning to fill up the car, and
I put five gallons into her. He paid me for that and for the
garage and then went off."
"Did you happen to notice the number of the car?"
"I can't say that I did. But it was a smart-looking turn
out and quite new by the look of it. One of those fourteen
horse-power sports saloons that the Solway people are mak-
ing such a song about."
Jimmy's inquiries were not confined solely to a possible
car. It had occurred to him that if the tank of the hearse had
been full when it left the neighbourhood of Grantham, the
driver must have secured petrol somewhere. But his inquiries
in this direction were entirely fruitless. No garage or filling
station could remember supplying petrol to the driver of a
strange hearse.
It was one o'clock when Jimmy reached the police station,
where he found Hanslet impatiently awaiting him. The two
hurriedly exchanged notes, then went to the railway station
where they caught the 1.32 p.m. train back to London.
"The professor was right again, then," said Hanslet as the
train started. "Your man and the car are the same as mine,
there's no doubt about that. What's more, I've got the num-
ber of the car, so we'll be able to trace that as soon as we get
back."
"There's more than a chance that the car was running
under a false number," Jimmy suggested.
"You don't suppose I didn't think of that, do you?" Hans-
let replied scornfully. "I asked the manager of the South
Lincolnshire Garage if he had compared the number plates


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 229
with the number on the licence. And he told me that this was
always done as a matter of routine in the case of a strange
car. These chaps do it for their own protection, you know.
They don't want stolen cars dumped upon them if they can
help it.
"There are one or two other things I found out while I
was waiting for you. Any one walking from Lingby Mill to
Grantham would be bound to pass the cottage outside which
the carpenter had left his bicycle. And I asked about that
spot where the bicycle was found. From what you tell me it
can't be a hundred yards from the garage where you got news
of the car. We've done a pretty good morning's work between
us, I consider."
"We haven't found out yet who this chap was," Jimmy
ventured. "We are supposing all along that he was Cartmell,
but we've found nothing to prove it. It's always been my idea
that the appearance of Cartmell was a pretty transparent
disguise. Cartmell and this chap with the fourteen horse-
power Solway, may well have been one and the same person.
But"
"Go ahead, Jimmy," said Hanslet encouragingly. "But
what?"
"If Cartmell drove the car away from the South Lincoln-
shire Motor Company's garage on Saturday the 22 nd, it
wasn't his body that was found in the tar boiler on Thursday
the 20th."
"Even the professor-wouldn't quarrel with the logic of
that argument," Hanslet remarked. "I'm beginning to believe
that three people and not two are concerned in the affair.
First of all Patton, who was probably the ring-leader. Then
Cartmell, whose identity we don't know, but whose job it
was to pick up Patton at Lingby Mill. Both these people have
shown signs of life since that confounded body of yours was


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 231
tion of another car being taken in part exchange, and very
often there are hire purchase terms to be arranged as well.
But in the case of this particular customer, there were no
difficulties of any kind. He just walked in here, looked at one
or two models, bought one of them and walked out."
"Do you remember what he looked like?" Hanslet asked.
"I think I could describe him fairly well. He was tall and
smartly dressed, like a man who goes to a good tailor for his
clothes. I should put him at somewhere between forty and
fifty, clean-shaven, fair-haired and wearing a gold signet
ring. I noticed his cheeks particularly. They were noticeably
red as though he spent the greater part of his time in the
open air. And he spoke in rather a loud voice, which put me
off a bit at first. I soon found, though, that he didn't mean to
be in the least offensive.
"As I say, he walked straight into the showroom and said
that he wanted to buy a car. Well, there are cars and cars,
as you probably know, so I asked him if he had any idea
what he wanted. He said that he wanted a smart car for his
wife to drive herself. It must be fast, of medium power, and
not too expensive.
"Well, as it happened we had the very thing. Only the day
before we'd taken delivery of a fourteen horse-power Solway
sports saloon. It had been cleaned and polished up, and was
standing in the middle of the showroom here. First of all I
showed my customer one or two others which I knew wouldn't
exactly suit him. It's not good salesmanship to produce the
article you want to sell straight away. Much better show your
buyer one or two others first. Then, when he sees exactly what
he's got in mind, he's so pleased that he probably snaps it up
at once."
"I see," said Hanslet dryly. "And when you showed your
customer the Solway, he fell for it at once, I suppose?"


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 233
he was going to drive it to Swineshead straight away. I took
him round in a taxi to our place in the Harrow Road, satisfied
myself that the car was in order and handed it over to him.
He drove off and I haven't seen or heard of him since."
"You'd recognize him if you saw him again, I suppose?"
Hanslet asked.
"Oh, I should know him again right enough," replied Mr.
Carter with conviction.
It turned out that the office had taken numbers of the notes
for fifty pounds. Having secured these, Hanslet and Jimmy
left the premises of Messrs. Burrell & Shearer.
"Well, that's all plain sailing," said the former trium-
phantly. "I think we've got on the track of this affair at last."
"I'm not so sure," Jimmy replied doubtfully. "I've been
through all this before. I thought I'd traced the ownership of
the Comet car, GX 692, but unfortunately the registered
owner didn't exist."
"Ah, but Sir Stanislaus does exist," said Hanslet. "I've
spoken to him myself, and what's more, he's a friend of the
chief's. I'm rather wondering what he'll say when I tell him
that Sir Stanislaus is concerned in this affair. But I'm not
going to do that just yet. I promised the professor that I'd
go and see him again when there were any fresh develop-
ments to report. We'll slip round to Westbourne Terrace this
evening after he's had his dinner."
Dr. Priestley welcomed the two policemen graciously
enough. He listened to Hanslet's account of their adventures
in Grantham and the information which they had obtained
from Mr. Carter. "You should now be in a position to identify
the criminal," he said quietly.
"It's not a case of the criminal, but of a gang of three,"
Hanslet replied. "Two of them we know already. Patton made
off with the diamonds. Sir Stanislaus was in the plot, but what


234
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
part he played beyond buying this car I don't yet know ex-
actly. But we've found out where he got the money to buy it
with. Patton supplied it. The notes with which Sir Stanislaus
paid for the car have been traced. They were issued by the
Holborn branch of the London and Kensington Bank to
Messrs. Patton & Fairfield on July 23rd last.
"Either Wherwell or Patton murdered the third member
of the gang and chucked his body into the tar boiler. He, of
course, was the man who called himself Cartmell, but who
he really was we haven't been able to find out yet."
Dr. Priestley's face remained inscrutable. "You are still
convinced that Mr. Patton stole the diamonds," he said.
"Well, professor, that's the one thing that is established
beyond the possibility of doubt," Hanslet replied patiently.
"He walked out of Grantham Station with the diamonds in
his possession and we know that he bolted with them to
France. If that isn't stealing, I should like to know what is."
"The facts as you present them certainly suggest theft, but
they seem to be capable of an entirely different interpretation.
To begin with, it is possible that when Mr. Patton left Gran-
tham Station, he had no intention whatever of stealing the
diamonds."
"Then why did he leave the station?" Hanslet demanded.
"Why didn't he complete his journey as he had arranged with
Sir Stanislaus?"
"It seems fairly certain that after Mr. Patton left Gran-
tham Station he was driven to Lingby Mill, probably in this
car, XYX 1035. And no doubt he entered the car willingly.
But that is no proof of his intention to steal the diamonds."
"Oh, come now, professor!" Hanslet remonstrated. "If he
hadn't meant to steal the diamonds he wouldn't have gone
joy-riding with them. And how else are you going to explain
his behaviour?"


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 235
"Easily enough. You will remember that Mr. Patton, in
the course of his journey to Swineshead, had to change at
Grantham. Suppose that when he stepped out of the London
train he was met by some one he knew and trusted. This
person told him that he had a car waiting and would drive
him straight to Holmden Hall, thereby avoiding the incon-
venience of waiting half an hour for the Swineshead train."
"Meaning by some person he knew and trusted, Sir Stan-
islaus, of course. I'm bound to say that's an ingenious idea,
professor, but it won't wash. The next thing, I suppose, was
that Sir Stanislaus drove him to Lingby Mill and there re-
lieved him of the diamonds. But in that event how do you
account for Patton's bolting to France and lying doggo there
all this time?"
"What proof have you that Mr. Patton bolted to France?"
the professor asked.
"I thought I'd explained all that long ago, professor. First
of all there's that telephone call to M. Baudin in Brussels that
Thursday afternoon. Then there's the fact that Patton took
his passport with him before he started on his journey.
Finally, there's the fact that this passport was discovered on
the quayside at Folkestone. You couldn't want more con-
clusive proof than that."
"I could and I do," Dr. Priestley replied. "Let us take the
telephone message first. Have you traced the place of origin
of this call?"
"No, it's not worth while, for there's not the least doubt
that M. Baudin received it. You're not going to suggest that
M. Baudin is also in the plot, I suppose?"
"I see no necessity for such a suggestion. I understand that
M. Baudin and Mr. Patton were not personally acquainted
with each other."
"According to Mr. Fairfield, though they had frequently


236
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
corresponded, they had probably never met. But M. Baudin
was on sufficiently good terms with Patton for him to wait up
half the night."
"What guarantee had M. Baudin that it was actually Pat-
ton who spoke to him? Since he did not know him personally,
he could not recognize his voice."
"Who else could have had an object in telephoning such a
message? Besides, there's this about it. Only two people could
have known that M. Baudin was on terms of close business
relationship with the firm of Patton & Fairfield. These were
the two partners themselves. Fairfield, as we know from an
independent source, was in Paris at the time the call was put
through. That fixes Patton as the caller beyond a doubt."
"Very well," said Dr. Priestley. "Now let us turn to the
matter of the passport. How do you know that it was in Mr.
Patton's possession when he started on his journey?"
"Because after his departure it couldn't be found in the
place where he always kept it. Two people, McNaught and
Mr. Fairfield looked for it there, independently and in my
presence."
"They had no difficulty in opening the drawer in which it
should have been?"
"None whatever, since it wasn't locked."
"Exactly, the drawer was not locked. Therefore, I main-
tain that any one gaining access to Mr. Patton's room during
the days preceding his departure could have taken the pass-
port. Mr. Patton would probably not have noticed the loss of
the document until he required it. And if some one had indeed
stolen the passport its discovery at Folkestone is no proof of
Mr. Patton's guilt."
"But look here, professor," said Hanslet persuasively. "If
Patton didn't bolt to France, what on earth was the point of


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 237
the telephone call and the monkeying about with the pass-
port?"
"The object in both cases was, no doubt, to mislead the
police," Dr. Priestley replied. "It was an essential of the plot
that you should believe that Mr. Patton had gone abroad with
the object of disposing of the diamonds there."
Hanslet shrugged his shoulders. "You seem convinced that
he didn't go abroad, professor," he said. "In that case per-
haps you can give me a clue to his present whereabouts."
"I have very little doubt that his remains are in the ceme-
tery at Fallowchurch," Dr. Priestley replied gravely. "In my
opinion everything points to him having been murdered and
to the man calling himself Cartmell as being guilty of the
crime."
"On the theory, I suppose, that Cartmell and Patton were
in the plot together and quarrelled over the division of the
spoils, or something like that."
Dr. Priestley shook his head. "I think not," he replied. "I
believe that Mr. Patton was entirely innocent, that he fully
intended to deliver the diamonds to Sir Stanislaus Wherwell
at Holmden Hall that Wednesday evening, and that he was
the victim of a peculiarly diabolical murder. I will, if you
like, explain my reasons for this belief."
"I wish you would, professor," said Hanslet eagerly.
"Very well then, let us once more have recourse to the
inspector's diary of Cartmell's movements. From it we will
select certain dates. First, August 5th and 6th. During these
dates Cartmell's car was garaged at Folkestone. Now Folke-
stone, as you are already aware, is a port of embarkation for
the Continent. It does not escape my notice that Cartmell
may have crossed to Boulogne on the fifth and returned from
there on the sixth. The possibility of his having travelled to


238
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
France and having spent several hours there on those par-
ticular dates may not be without significance.
"Now let us turn to Thursday, August 13th. On that date
we are told that Cartmell left Fallowchurch for London by
an early train, returning that evening. It was on the thir-
teenth, you tell me, that the Solway saloon car was purchased
from Messrs. Burrell & Shearer."
"You're suggesting that Sir Stanislaus was the man who
posed as Cartmell," said Hanslet. "A glimmering of that
idea has entered my head already. But there's just one ob-
jection. It concerns that telephone message again. If it wasn't
sent by Patton it must have been sent by Cartmell. But at the
very time that it was sent Sir Stanislaus was sitting in my
room at the Yard. Dash it all, professor, your explanation
only makes things more impossible than ever!"
"Perhaps you will allow me to proceed," replied Dr. Priest-
ley patiently. "The fact remains that the car was purchased
on the thirteenth and driven away from the service depot in
the Harrow Road on the seventeenth. Reference to the in-
spector's diary shows that Cartmell was in London on both
those dates.
"Now let us turn to the entries for the fourteenth and fif-
teenth. Cartmell arrived at Folkestone on the morning of the
fourteenth and leaves again on the afternoon of the fifteenth.
He may have again crossed to Boulogne. On the other hand
Folkestone is only a short distance from Dover. He may, on
this occasion, have visited Ostend via Dover. If so, he would
have found it unnecessary to produce a passport for, as I
mentioned the other day, week-end passengers do not require
them. The inspector has mentioned the incident of Cartmell's
visit to the bathroom in the hotel at Folkestone. He suggested
that this visit may have been for the purpose of discarding his
disguise. Such a step would have been necessary preliminary


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 239
to his travelling with a passport issued to him in his true
personality. When travelling without a passport, however, he
could have discarded his disguise upon the steamer itself
without attracting attention. But perhaps the inspector knows
of some fact which would invalidate this theory."
"I don't know of any, sir," Jimmy hastened to reply. "It's
quite possible that Cartmell was abroad during the night that
I supposed him to be at Folkestone."
"But what did he want to go abroad for while the diamonds
were still in London?" Hanslet asked.
"The significance of Cartmell's visits to the Continent, if
indeed they took place, may become apparent to you later.
But let us return to Monday, August 17th. It has already been
suggested that Cartmell may have visited the offices of Messrs.
Patton & Fairfield about eight o'clock that evening. The man
seen by the policeman Bidwell did not resemble the man
who posed as Cartmell. But Cartmell in that disguise, must
have entered the train at Fallowchurch shortly after nine
o'clock. If, then, the visitor to Hatton Garden was Cartmell,
he must have altered his appearance between eight and nine
o'clock that evening. This, I think, is a point worth bearing
in mind. Hitherto, superintendent, you have imagined that
this man Cartmell, or some other person, visited the office in
order to consult with Mr. Patton. You have not, I think, con-
sidered the possibility that the visit was made entirely with-
out Mr. Patton's knowledge."
"I considered the possibility as soon as Mr. Fairfield men-
tioned the incident," Hanslet replied. "But how did the fellow
get inside the place if there was nobody there to admit him?
Next morning there was no trace of forcible entry or anything
having been disturbed, according to the chief clerk, Mc-
Naught."
"It would not be impossible for a suitably equipped person


240
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
to enter the premises without leaving any traces of his having
done so. But we need not labour that point for the moment.
Let us suppose that, in fact, Cartmell did obtain access to
the office on the evening of the seventeenth. And let us sup-
pose that he perused the correspondence files which he found
there. He would find Mr. Patton's letter to Sir Stanislaus
Wherwell containing the details of his proposed journey with
the diamonds on the following Wednesday to Holmden Hall.
He would also find Sir Stanislaus's telegram agreeing to the
proposal. He would thus learn that Mr. Patton was to leave
London by the four o'clock train on the nineteenth. A study
of the time-table would show him that to reach Swineshead
by this train a change at Grantham and a delay of half an
hour was involved. How does this possibility appeal to you,
superintendent?"
"Not very powerfully, I'm afraid, professor," Hanslet re-
plied doubtfully. "You say that Cartmell need not have been
in league with Patton. If he wasn't, who in the world told him
that there was any likelihood of the diamonds being returned
to Holmden Hall? Only Sir Stanislaus and the people in
Patton & Fairfield's office knew about that. And if Cartmell
didn't know about the diamonds, what did he visit the office
at all for? You're not suggesting that he looked in merely on
the chance of picking up information which might be valu-
able to him?"
"No, I am not suggesting that," said Dr. Priestley quietly.
"I believe that Cartmell knew all about the diamonds from
the first, and that his whole procedure from the time that Sir
Stanislaus brought them to London was inspired by his knowl-
edge."
"Then he must have been in league either with Sir Stan-
islaus or with somebody in Patton & Fairfield's office," Hans-
let insisted. "And if he was, why did he visit the office on the


242
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"I think one ought to start as long ago as July 29th," he
began slowly. "That is the first date upon which we have any
record of Cartmell. He appeared at Mutley Street at eight
o'clock that evening and engaged a room there.
"This date was the Wednesday before Bank Holiday. It
was, therefore, the last day on which Mr. Fairfield attended
the office before he went away. Mr. McNaught told the super-
intendent that Mr. Fairfield started his holiday on the Thurs-
day before Bank Holiday. Mr. Fairfield's first stopping place
was presumably Brussels, for on the following Saturday Mr.
Patton received a letter from him posted there on Thursday
evening.
"Cartmell is next heard of on August 4th. We have no evi-
dence of how he spent his time in the interval. But on August
4th, the day after Bank Holiday, he collected the Comet car,
GX 692, from the Passway Garage and drove it to Fallow-
church. From this time until his final disappearance we have
a fairly complete record of his movements. On the morning
of August 5th, the day after his arrival at Fallowchurch, he 4
left there and did not return until the evening of the following
day. His car was garaged at Folkestone during the interval.
We have no trace of his movements from the time he left the
car in the garage until he picked it up again. The professor has
suggested that he may have crossed the Channel in the inter-
val."
At this point Dr. Priestley interposed. "One moment, in-
spector," he said. "Harold, will you be good enough to find
the Southern Railway Continental time-table. Now, in-
spector, at what time was Cartmell last seen in Folkestone
on the 5th?"
Jimmy referred to his diary. "He entered the Four-in-Hand
at about a quarter-past five," he replied. "He was not seen
after he had had tea and gone to the bathroom. Presumably


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 243
he left the hotel somewhere about six o'clock."
Dr. Priestley turned to Harold. "What does your time-
table suggest?" he asked.
"A boat leaves Folkestone for Boulogne at 6.25 p.m.,"
Harold replied. "It reaches Boulogne at seven thirty-five and
the connecting train reaches Paris at 11.10 p.m."
Dr. Priestley nodded. "What time did Cartmell fetch his
car from Folkestone garage on the sixth?" he asked.
"About 6 p.m., sir," Jimmy replied.
This time Harold did not wait to be prompted. "A train
leaves Paris at 12.15 p.m. to connect with a boat at Calais
which reaches Dover at 4.55 p.m. There is a train from Dover
at five fifty-six which reaches Folkestone at six-sixteen."
Again Dr. Priestley nodded. "It is quite possible that Cart-
mell travelled by this train. If so, he would have an hour in
Dover in which to resume his disguise. The public lavatory at
Dover Marine Station would have served his purpose well
enough. Cartmell, then, may have been in Paris from mid-
night on the fifth until midday of the sixth. Does that suggest
anything to you, inspector?"
"Not by itself, sir," Jimmy replied cautiously. "The only
other reference to those dates is in a piece of information ob-
tained by the superintendent. M. Le Maistre informed the
Paris Surete that Mr. Fairfield called upon him on the morn-
ing of the sixth.
"The next significant date is the thirteenth. The Solway
car was sold by Mr. Carter of the firm of Burrell & Shearer's
on that day. It is supposed that Cartmell was in London on the
thirteenth. The next day Cartmell left the Comet car at
Taylor's garage, Folkestone, about 10.15 a.m."
He paused and glanced at Harold, who consulted his time-
table. "There's a train from Folkestone at ten forty-six which
reaches Dover at eleven o'clock," he said. "The Ostend boat


244
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
leaves Dover at twelve-fifty and reaches Ostend at four-ten."
"What time does the connecting train reach Brussels?"
Jimmy asked.
"6.25 p.m.," Harold replied.
"On the following day, Saturday, August 5th, Cartmell
collected his car from Taylor's Garage about 8.30 p.m.,"
Jimmy continued. "How does that fit in with the connexion
from Brussels?"
"A train leaves Brussels at 2.02 p.m. connecting with the
boat from Ostend which reaches Dover at 7.35 p.m. There's
a train from Dover at 8.13 p.m. which reaches Folkestone at
8.33 p.m."
"According to M. Baudin, Fairfield visited him during the
morning of the 15th," said Jimmy quietly.
"Here, what are you getting at!" exclaimed Hanslet im-
patiently. "You're not suggesting that Mr. Fairfield rigged
himself up as Cartmell, are you? That's merely ridiculous."
"Why is it ridiculous?" Dr. Priestley asked.
"Because it simply doesn't make sense," Hanslet replied.
"Why"
Dr. Priestley held up his hand. "One moment," he said.
"Let us hear if the inspector has any other dates to compare."
"I'm coming to the most significant date of all," said
Jimmy. "Thursday, August 20th, the day after Mr. Patton's
journey. The hearse was left outside the Green Bear at Fal-
lowchurch during the early hours of that morning. The driver
was presumably Cartmell, but I have hitherto been able to dis-
cover no trace of him after he abandoned the hearse. But I
believe now that he made his way across the Channel as soon
as possible. He would hardly have ventured to take a train at
Fallowchurch Station. But the next station down the line,
Staplehurst, is only three or four miles distant. What time is
the first train from Staplehurst to Folkestone, Merefield?"


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 245
"There's a train from Staplehurst at seven-one which gets
to Folkestone at eight twenty-four," Harold replied. "The
next boat from either Folkestone or Dover is the ten fifty-five
from Folkestone. A connecting train from Boulogne reaches
Paris at 3.47 p.m."
"On the afternoon of the twentieth, Mr. Fairfield visited
M. Le Maistre. We are told that the interview came to an end
somewhere before six o'clock."
"That's all very well," exclaimed Hanslet impatiently.
"You're selecting the facts which happen to fit in with your
theory and neglecting the rest. The professor has accused me
of that very crime often enough. You haven't explained Pat-
ton's telephone call to M. Baudin on the afternoon of the
twentieth, nor how his passport came to be found on the quay
at Folkestone."
"I dare say the professor could explain both those things,"
replied Jimmy, not anxious to incur his superior's wrath.
Dr. Priestley smiled. "I have no doubt that the inspector's
ideas upon the subject coincide with mine," he said. "Let us
deal with the telephone call first. I have already pointed out
that M. Baudin is not familiar with Mr. Patton's voice. I will
now point out a detail connected with the reception of this
call. It was not taken by M. Baudin himself, but by one of
his clerks. M. Baudin was informed that Mr. Patton wished to
speak to him on the telephone. He gave instructions that the
caller should be put through to him. He therefore had no
knowledge of the source of origin of the call.
"Upon being put through to M. Baudin, the caller intro-
duced himself. We do not know exactly what formulas he
employed, but we can assume that it was something like this.
'This is Mr. Patton of Messrs. Patton & Fairfield, calling
from Dunkerque.' M. Baudin would naturally accept the
statement without inquiry. If the caller said that he was


246
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
speaking from Dunkerque, there was no reason to doubt it.
But there is no proof either that the caller was Mr. Patton
or that he was in Dunkerque at the time. The call may have
been put through from Paris. And it is significant, I think,
that it was put through very shortly after Mr. Fairfield had
left the office of M. Le Maistre.
"The discovery of the passport need present no difficulty.
Once we assume that Mr. Cartmell and Mr. Fairfield were
one and the same our problem becomes greatly simplified. To
begin with, Constable Bidwell's observation is justified. It
was indeed Mr. Fairfield whom he saw in Hatton Garden on
the evening of the 17th. Further, the difficulties attending the
entrance of a stranger upon the premises of Messrs. Patton
& Fairfield do not arise. Mr. Fairfield himself informed you,
superintendent, that each partner possessed his own key. Nor
did Mr. Fairfield, in his own personality, arouse any suspicion
by his action, as the policeman's behaviour proved."
"What do you mean by that exactly, professor?" Hanslet
asked.
"I mean this. Bidwell, as soon as he set eyes upon the fa-
miliar figure, was convinced that he was Mr. Fairfield. Per-
haps my meaning will be clearer if I say fully satisfied rather
than convinced. It was not until the conversation with Mr.
Fairfield and subsequently with you that this satisfaction was
in any way shaken. Had he suspected that it was a stranger
who had come out of Messrs. Patton & Fairfield's office, he
would have investigated the matter immediately. As it was
he took no further notice of the incident.
"Now exactly what was Fairfield's object in visiting the
office? He had, I think, two ends in view. The first, of course,
was to inspect the correspondence between his partner and
Wherwell. You may ask how it was that he timed his visit so
opportunely. The answer is, I think, that this was not his first


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 247
call. He had probably been to Hatton Garden on each oc-
casion when he came up to London from Fallowchurch.
"His second aim was to secure Mr. Patton's passport. He
knew perfectly well where it was kept and guessed that if he
removed it his partner would not miss it before the following
Wednesday. In my opinion the theft of the passport was a
very clever move. Immediately its loss was discovered it
would naturally be assumed that Mr. Patton had taken it with
him on his journey. The inference was that it was his inten-
tion to go abroad. In other words, that he had intended to
appropriate the diamonds for himself before he started from
London."
"Our friend Fairfield seems to have planned his crime with
considerable ingenuity," Oldland remarked. "I wish, Priest-
ley, you'd tell us, in narrative form, as they say, exactly how
he set about it."
Dr. Priestley smiled. "Any continuous narrative must in-
volve some conjecture," he replied. "However, in order to
make my theory perfectly plain I will risk that for once. You
will find, I think, that in no case does my conjecture contra-
dict the facts as at present known.
"It is impossible to say when the idea of the crime first
occurred to Fairfield. Probably very soon after Sir Stanislaus
Wherwell brought the diamonds to London. It was very soon
obvious that Sir Stanislaus hoped to secure more money than
the diamonds were worth. If he persisted in his demands the
diamonds would not be sold and would sooner or later be
returned to Holmden Hall. If he consented to accept a more
moderate figure, the diamonds would probably change hands.
And during their transfer there might be a chance of acquir-
ing them.
"It is apparently Mr. Fairfield's custom to take his holiday
abroad every year. Ostensibly he did so this year. No doubt


248
BODY UNIDENTIFIED
he left England on July 30th and returned on August 21st
after receipt of Mr. McNaught's telegram. No doubt, again,
at intervals during this period he communicated with his firm
from various places abroad. He went so far as to visit the busi-
ness associates of the firm, such as M. Baudin and M. Le
Maistre. But I maintain that there is no evidence whatever
that he remained abroad during the whole of the period. And
it is significant that the dates upon which there is evidence of
his being abroad correspond with those upon which sight is
lost of Cartmell.
"It was, of course, essential to Fairfield's scheme that he
should keep himself informed as to the fate of the diamonds.
Had he asked his partner to keep him informed, suspicion
might have been aroused after the event. Since he had access
to the office it was much safer for him to look through the
correspondence periodically. That is why I have suggested
that he visited the office at fairly frequent intervals.
"His principal object at this stage was to supply himself
with an apparent alibi. He wished it to be thought that he was
abroad uninterruptedly from July 30th until after the com-
mission of the crime. If, therefore, he wished to return to
England during the period, it would be necessary for him to
adopt a second personality.
"The personality of Cartmell was well adapted to his pur-
pose. What connexion could there be between Cartmell the
commercial traveller conducting some confidential business
with Fallowchurch as his centre, and Mr. Fairfield, the pros-
perous diamond merchant on holiday abroad? Further, the
disguise was a particularly easy one to assume or to discard.
You already know, I think, my views upon disguises. Shall
we say that it would be impossible for Harold to disguise him-
self so effecutally that the inspector, meeting him every day,
would not recognize him. But if Harold adopted some simple


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 249
disguise and went to some place where he was not known and
called himself John Smith, nobody would have any reason to
suspect his true identity.
"Fairfield adopted the simplest disguise possible. I do not
suppose that his apparatus went beyond a false moustache, a
pair of spectacles and some articles of shabby and threadbare
clothing. His strong point was, that no keen observer was
ever likely to see him in both of his personalities—the true
and the false. He could convert himself from Fairfield to
Cartmell or vice versa in a very few minutes. He was thus
enabled to appear at Fallowchurch as Cartmell and very
shortly afterwards in Paris or Brussels as Fairfield.
"Let me cite an example of the rapidity of his metamor-
phosis. The occasion of his visit to the office on the 17th. He
was seen by Bidwell as Fairfield, yet an hour later he must
have joined the train as Cartmell. This suggests that he had
some convenient place at hand in which to assume his dis-
guise. Fairfield himself told you, I think, superintendent, that
his flat in Bloomsbury was conveniently near his office."
Hanslet nodded. "That's right, professor," he replied. "It
didn't strike me at the time how conveniently near it was."
"Your theory certainly appeals to me," said Oldland. "I'm
deeply interested in Fairfield's motives at this stage. No
doubt he adopted the Cartmell disguise to enable him to re-
turn to England when convenient. But did he stay in England
only to watch the developments regarding the diamonds?"
"I do not think so," Dr. Priestley replied. "I think that he
had already evolved the outline of the crime. Sooner or later
the diamonds would leave London, and it was during their
transit that Fairfield had determined to acquire them. This
would almost necessarily involve the murder of the carrier.
And Fairfield had already evolved a plan for committing this
murder with very little risk to himself. The victim's body was


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to be rendered unrecognizable, and the murderer's apparent
personality was to disappear before the crime was committed.
This was the problem which he presented to you, inspector. I
venture to say that but for certain coincidences between the
facts discovered by you and those discovered by the super-
intendent, the problem would have remained insoluble.
"Fairfield's employment of Pantony as an unconscious
agent in his drama was, I think, highly ingenious. Pantony's
disfigurement made him conspicuous wherever he went. He
and Cartmell disappeared together, leaving clues behind them
which could not fail to be discovered. Of these the most im-
portant was the purchase of the hearse. It had certainly been
used to convey the unidentifiable body to the tar boiler. The
obvious deduction was that Cartmell had murdered Pantony
for the money which he was known to possess. True, Pantony
would eventually reappear, but in the interval Fairfield had
gained the time which was so essential to him. It was in order
to perfect this plan that Fairfield took up his residence at the
Green Bear at Fallowchurch.
"No doubt he selected Fallowchurch deliberately. It is ap-
proximately half-way between London and the Channel ports.
And he would be compelled to visit both during the prelimi-
nary period. Further, it was extremely improbable that any
one who knew him in his business capacity would visit Fallow-
church. No doubt he realized that the Green Bear would af-
ford him a perfectly safe base of operations.
"Having assumed the role of a commercial representative
of some kind, he would be bound to carry it out. This, I think,
accounts for his daily visits to the surrounding towns, where
he took good care to leave traces of his passage. He was not
anxious to conceal himself. Far from it. He wished the per-
sonality of Cartmell to become as widely known as possible.
"We come now to Monday, August 17th. I am assuming


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 251
that Fairfield, during his visit to London on the 13th, had
visited the office. He had ascertained then that Sir Stanislaus
Wherwell had not modified his demands. It was not difficult
for him to guess that Mr. Patton would very shortly refuse to
be any longer responsible for the diamonds. This explains his
purchase of the Solway car. Two cars were necessary for
him. The Comet car was already associated with Cartmell,
and no suspicion of Cartmell being in any way associated with
the theft of the diamonds must ever be aroused.
"The fact that the notes with which the Solway car was
purchased were originally issued to Messrs. Patton & Fair-
field has, I think, a different significance from that which the
superintendent attaches to it. I believe that these notes were
purchased from his firm by Mr. Fairfield before his depar-
ture, and were still in his possession on the 17th.
"On that day Fairfield learnt that the diamonds were to be
returned in two days time. It was necessary for him to take
immediate action. The inspector has already unravelled for
us the details of this action. One point will serve to illustrate
Fairfield's attention to detail. He wished it to be thought that
the body which would be found in the tar boiler was that of
Pantony. Also that Pantony had been murdered by Cartmell.
This illusion could be strengthened by providing a clue to
murder in the Comet car. He knew well enough that a parcel
of bullock's liver would provide a most suggestive stain. No
doubt he threw the liver away by the roadside before he
reached London. He was probably unaware that expert ex-
amination can differentiate between human and bovine blood.
"We do not know what he did with the Solway car after
driving it away from the service station. I think in all prob-
ability that he deposited it in some garage near his own flat.
On the evening of the 18th, having left the Comet car at the
Passway Garage, he went home and removed the Cartmell


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"The diamonds?" Dr. Priestley replied. "It does not seem
to me that their disposal offered any difficulty. I have noticed
that most modern cars have at the back a luggage receptacle
which can be locked. Perhaps one of you can tell me whether
this is so in the case of the fourteen horse-power Solway
saloon."
"It is, sir," said Jimmy. "One of the points in the advertise-
ments of the car is that it is provided with a very capacious
luggage compartment."
"Very well, then. Fairfield put Mr. Patton's suitcase, his
satchel, his clothes and the diamonds into this compartment
and locked it. As I was about to say when Oldland interrupted
me, Fairfield drove the car back to Grantham and deposited
it in the garage of the South Lincolnshire Motor Company.
He felt quite safe in assuming that nobody would tamper with
the luggage compartment until he returned for the car. He
then stole the second bicycle and rode back to Lingby Mill.
It only remained for him to drive the hearse from there to the
tar boiler between Dimbury and Fallowchurch. I have no
doubt that during this journey he followed the main road
wherever possible. A hearse would attract less attention on
a main road than on byways."
Dr. Priestley paused and Jimmy ventured a remark. "He
must have stopped for petrol somewhere, sir. The tank of the
hearse wouldn't hold enough for the journey from Reading
to Lingby Mill and thence to Fallowchurch."
Dr. Priestley smiled. "No doubt the tank of the hearse was
replenished, but not at any public filling station. It has not
escaped my notice that the tank of the Solway car was filled
up at both garages in Grantham. That is to say that when the
car left Grantham its tank was full and that when it returned
shortly afterwards, the tank was nearly empty. On the second
occasion, ten gallons were put into it. Do you not see the


DR. PRIESTLEY COMES TO RESCUE 255
significance of this fact?"
"I do now that you point it out, sir," said Jimmy. "While
the car and the hearse were together at Lingby Mill, Fairfield
transferred petrol from the first to the second. It would be
easy enough, especially if he had a syringe of some kind."
Dr. Priestley nodded his approval. "The journey to the
tar boiler was accomplished without incident," he continued.
"No doubt during his stay at the Green Bear Fairfield had
familiarized himself with the routine of Gurney and his gang.
It need not have taken him very long to deposit the body, re-
light the fire under the boiler and put a few shovelsful of grit
into the coffin."
"I don't quite understand why he bothered himself about
the grit," Hanslet remarked.
"He hoped that the grit in the coffin would be compared
with the grit by the tar boiler. This actually happened and
the probability that they came from the same source was
established. Remember that Fairfield was doing his best to
produce the impression that Pantony had been murdered by
Cartmell. The connexion between the abandoned hearse and
the body found in the tar boiler was merely one of association.
The grit and the sheet stolen from the Green Bear were in-
tended to strengthen that association.
"The inspector has suggested how Fairfield may have
reached Folkestone. If my theory is correct he had Mr. Pat-
ton's passport in his possession. As he went on board the boat
he threw this passport under the crane where it was subse-
quently found. He knew that the eventual discovery of the
passport would strengthen the assumption that Mr. Patton,
having made off with the diamonds, had gone abroad.
"Again, he ascertained that had Mr. Patton returned
straight from London to Grantham, he could most conven-
iently have caught the boat train connecting with the Dun-


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turned into Hatton Wall, and so reached the Clerkenwell
Road. A few yards further on, at the junction of the Clerken-
well and Farringdon Roads, a group was already collecting.
As they reached the spot, it was apparent to them what had
happened. The police car, attempting to cross the Farringdon
Road at high speed, had come into collision with a heavy lorry
travelling southwards towards Smithfield Market. The car
was smashed to bits, and a policeman was bending over a
prostrate form in the road. Fairfield had been killed outright.
His body was taken to the mortuary, where Hanslet ex-
tracted a bunch of keys from the dead man's pocket. Then,
having dismissed George, whose services were no longer re-
quired, he and Jimmy returned to Messrs. Patton & Fairfield's
office. One of the keys on the bunch fitted the door, and they'
entered the premises.
Hanslet led the way to Mr. Patton's room, where he had
previously noticed the safe. Another of the keys unlocked
this, and the superintendent swung open the door. In a few
seconds the correctness of Dr. Priestley's theory was estab-
lished. The Wherwell diamonds lay in their original case, but
with half of the stones already removed from their settings
and put aside in carefully numbered boxes.
"That explains it!" Hanslet exclaimed. "I've been won-
dering all the time what Fairfield was doing here. I expect
he's been putting in an hour or two every night taking these
stones out of their settings. Well, my case is closed, anyhow.
But I'm not at all sure what Sir Stanislaus will say when he
hears about it. It's in my mind that he'd have preferred the
insurance money to the diamonds. You're looking very glum."
"I'm wondering what sort of yarn I shall have to tell the
coroner at Fallowchurch," Jimmy replied thoughtfully.


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