In which opinion Chief-Inspector Bannister was entirely accurate, although the day was destined also to have its compensations for him. Not the least of these compensations was his introduction to a certain Mr. Anthony Lotherington Bathurst. Even though Seabourne is a hundred and nine miles from Tranfield, and a trifle more than that from Westhampton—two places in which Mr. Bathurst had fully expected to be!
CHAPTER VI.
Mr. Bathurst Changes His Destination
Anthony Bathurst read the telegram that had so summarily interrupted his breakfast, with much more than the suspicion of a frown. Not that it was at all ambiguous or in any way difficult for him to understand. Indeed it was completely the reverse of these things. “Come at once to Hotel Cassandra, Seabourne,” was the message it conveyed and the sender’s name was shewn at the end of the message as “Mr. Lucius.” “His Royal Highness seems to imagine that I’m thoroughly at his beck and call,” he murmured to himself softly. “This will put the tin hat on my going to Westhampton—as I had intended.” He lit a cigarette and thrust his left hand into the pocket of his dressing-gown. Mr. Bathurst was a staunch adherent of the theory of breakfasting in comfort. “Seabourne?” he thought to himself. “Seabourne? What caught my eye in this morning’s paper concerning Seabourne?” He picked up the paper that had already been read and tossed aside—and eagerly sought the more prominent head-lines. “Ah!” he exclaimed, “I thought I wasn’t mistaken.” His eyes swept the paragraph with its sensational notice. The headings were—“Strange Tragedy at Seabourne. Young Lady Murdered in Dentist’s Chair.” The paragraph below the head-lines ran as under. “About half-past two yesterday afternoon the Seabourne police were called to the Dental Surgery of Mr. Ronald Branston which is situated at the corner of Coolwater Avenue and the Lower Seabourne Road. A lady patient upon whom Mr. Branston had just previously attended had been discovered poisoned in the Dentist’s chair. Dr. Renfrew, the divisional Surgeon was called and gave it as his opinion that deceased had died from an administration of Hydrocyanic Acid. Mr. Branston himself has told the authorities a remarkable story. Sergeant Godfrey of the Marlshire County Police had charge of the case but has now had the good fortune to obtain the active co-operation of Chief-Inspector Bannister, one of the famous ‘Six’ of New Scotland Yard, who happens to be spending part of his annual holiday in Seabourne. Thanks to the untiring assiduity of the latter gentleman, the lady, in regard to whose identity the Police were at the outset without the vestige of a clue has now been identified as Miss Daphne Carruthers of 11, Lexham Gardens, Kensington, a visitor to Seabourne staying at the Lauderdale Hotel. Taking into consideration certain facts that Mr. Branston has communicated to them, the Police have no doubt that a brutal murder has been committed. Surprising developments are hourly expected.” Mr. Bathurst put down his paper, and pulled at his top lip—“I wonder,” he murmured.
Two hours later he stood outside the big railway station that introduces Seabourne to thousands of visitors. He hailed a “taxi.” Five minutes longer saw him inside the “Cassandra.”
“Mr. Lucius,” murmured a gentleman superbly tailored and faultlessly barbered, “suite 17, if you please. Have you then the business with him? But yes? Then I, myself will personally conduct you to him.” He shrugged his perfectly-fitted shoulders with a shrug that betokened much to a receptive mind. “Mr. Lucius—he is indeed a personage—— But yes!”
Mr. Bathurst appeared to be in no mood to contradict him. He followed the gentleman upstairs. Mr. Lucius was in! Mr. Lucius was pacing the floor of his room after the manner of an infuriated tiger. It was evident that Mr. Lucius was very much annoyed!
“Ah, Bathurst,” he exclaimed, with a shade of relief in his tone, “so you’re here at last. I am indeed pleased. Sit down. This terrible business is wearing my nerves to pieces. In fact I’m thoroughly unnerved and nearly worried out of my life. Doubtless you’ve seen this morning’s paper?”
Mr. Bathurst had. “Did His Royal Highness allude——” Mr. Lucius’s hand stopped him with a dramatic gesture.
“Please respect my incognito. You have a saying, ‘The walls have the ears.’ Pardon my seeming insistence on the point.”
Anthony murmured what he considered was a dignified apology. Then he completed his unfinished sentence, “Did Mr. Lucius allude to the matter that the Press were calling ‘The Seabourne Murder’?”