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Page 37
"Oh, I told you that they had hanged me in Fleet Street already,
Isobel!" cried Coverly, with a burst of unmirthful laughter.
But (and no man could have construed the thing favorably to Coverly)
to my anger and amazement he added:
"Let them do it! I'll speak if I choose, but not otherwise!"
That I was annoyed with the young fool already, my remarks to him,
which had transgressed every code of good taste, must sufficiently
have shown. But I had hoped to provoke him to a declaration which
would clear his name from the shadow which was settling darkly upon
it, and which would raise that shadow from the girl who stood beside
him, watching me with a sort of reproachful look in her dark eyes.
Now I recognized that I could remain no longer and keep the peace,
therefore:
"Perhaps it is time that I went about my own business," I said,
conjuring up a smile, although it must have been a dreary one, "and
ceased to interfere with the affairs of other people. Good-by, Isobel.
Anything I can do, you know you may command. Good-by, Coverly. I am
deeply sorry about this business."
He barely touched my extended hand, but instantly turned and walked to
the bay window. Descending to the street, I had immediate confirmation
of Coverly's statement that his movements were watched.
In the porch below a man stood talking to the hall-porter. As I
appeared he immediately averted his face and began to light a
cigarette. Nevertheless I had had time to recognize him as the man who
had brought Gatton news of Marie's detention.
It was in a truly perturbed frame of mind that I proceeded on my way
to the _Planet_ offices. I would have sacrificed much to have been
afforded means to comfort Isobel; a furious anger towards the man who
thus deliberately had brought doubt and unhappiness upon her had taken
up permanent quarters in my mind. I counted Coverly's declination to
clear himself little better than the attitude of a cad.
I read religiously through a pile of cuttings bearing upon the case,
and found the unmistakable trend of opinion to be directed towards
Coverly as the culprit. The use made of Isobel's name enraged me to
boiling point and I presently took up the entire bundle of cuttings
and crammed them into a waste-paper basket. I was engaged in stamping
them down with my foot when I was called to the telephone.
Inspector Gatton was speaking from New Scotland Yard; and his voice
was very grave.
"Can you possibly come along at once?" he asked. "There is a new
development; a most unpleasant one."
He would say no more over the telephone. Therefore I hurried out to
where Coates was waiting, and in ten minutes found myself in one of
those bare, comfortless apartments which characterize the headquarters
of the Metropolitan Police Force.
With his hat off Gatton looked more like a seaman than ever, for he
had short, crisply curly hair and that kind of bull-dog line of
cranium which one associates with members of the senior service. Upon
a chair set in a recess formed by one of the lofty windows a leather
grip rested. It was wet and stained, and had palpably been recovered
but recently from the water. Seeing my glance straying towards this
object at the moment of my entrance, the Inspector nodded.
"Yes," said he, "it has just come in."
"What is it?"
"Well," replied Gatton, sitting upon a corner of the table and folding
his arms, "it is a piece of evidence sufficient to hang the most
innocent man breathing."
He eyed me in a significant manner and I felt my heart beginning to
beat more rapidly.
"May I know the particulars?"
"Certainly. I asked you to come along for the purpose of telling you.
Sir Eric Coverly's refusal to answer the questions put to him had
necessitated his being watched, as you know. I mean to say, it's
sheerly automatic; the Commissioner himself couldn't make an
exception. Well, last night he left his chambers and started for Miss
Merlin's flat. He came out of a back door and went along a narrow
passage, instead of going out at the front. He evidently thought he
had got away unobserved. He was carrying--that."
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