Willis did not quite see how the business was to be done, but he forbore to ask questions, agreeing to fall in with his companion’s arrangements.
These arrangements involved the departure from their hotel by taxi at six o’clock the next morning. It was not fully light as they whirled out along the Ferriby road, but the sky was clear and all the indications pointed to a fine day.
They dismounted at the end of the lane leading to the works, and struck off across the fields, finally taking up their position behind the same thick hedge from which Willis had previously kept watch.
They spent the whole of that day, as well as of the next two, in their hiding-place, and at the end of that time they had a complete list of all lorries that entered or left the establishment during that period. No vehicles other than blue lorries appeared, and Hunt expressed himself as satisfied that if the smuggled brandy was not carried by them it must go either by rail or at night.
“We can go into those other contingencies later if necessary,” he said, “but on the face of it I am inclined to back the lorries. They supply the tied houses in Hull, which would seem the obvious places for the brandy to go, and, besides, railway transit is too well looked after to attract the gang. I think we’ll follow this lorry business through first on spec.”
“I suppose you’ll compare the certificate blocks with the list I made?” Willis asked.
“Of course. That will show if all carry certificates. But I don’t want to do that yet. Before alarming them I want to examine the contents of a few of the lorries. I think we might do that tomorrow.”
The next morning, therefore, the two detectives again engaged a taxi and ran out along the Ferriby road until they met a large blue lorry loaded with barrels and bearing on its side the legend “Ackroyd & Holt Ltd, Licensed Rectifiers.” When it had lumbered past on its way to the city, Hunt called to the driver and ordered him to follow it.
The chase led to the heart of the town, ending in a street which ran parallel to the Humber Dock. There the big machine turned in to an entry.
“The Anchor Bar,” Hunt said, in satisfied tones. “We’re in luck. It’s one of the largest licensed houses in Hull.”