“That’s all,” said Beer, disgustedly. “Ain’t it enough?”
“Nothing to boast about,” French replied, absently. He remembered that the man had been dismissed by Berlyn and he wondered if this statement was merely the result of spite. He therefore questioned him closely. But he was unable to shake him and he formed the opinion that the story was true.
If so, it certainly had a pretty direct bearing on the theory he was trying to evolve, for there could be little doubt as to who “ ’e” was. As he considered the matter he was surprised to find how complete that theory was and how much of it had been definitely established. There were gaps, of course, but there was no doubt as to its general correctness.
As French now saw it, the affair stood as follows:
Stanley Pyke and Phyllis Berlyn, friends during childhood, find that they love each other when they renew their acquaintance in later years. But it is then too late for the course of true love to run smooth and a clandestine attachment follows. Berlyn learns of this some four months before the tragedy and as a result of his interference the two decide to discontinue their meetings—in public, at all events. The flirtation with Colonel Domlio is possibly deliberately undertaken by Mrs. Berlyn to prove to her husband that her interest in Pyke is over.
But the two find that they cannot give each other up and the intrigue is continued secretly. Berlyn, however, is not hoodwinked. He sees his friend betraying him and he determines on vengeance.
His first move is to get an accomplice to assist in the details. Here French admitted to himself that he was out of his depth. He could not imagine who the accomplice was or why he should have been required. But if Berlyn were guilty, the murder was clearly a two-man job. Simultaneous activities in different places proved it.
The arrangements about the crate are next made. French was aware that these had not yet been properly followed up; other matters had been more urgent. But they represented a second string to his bow which he would develop if necessary.
Then comes the night of the crime. While Berlyn and Pyke are at Tavistock, the accomplice drugs the watchman’s food. He then waits for the car. Pyke is sandbagged and his body carried into the works. One of the men then unpacks the crate, and taking the duplicator to pieces, returns the larger parts to stock. He has already doctored the cards, as well, necessarily, as the corresponding books. He then strips the recognisable clothes off the body, puts the latter in the crate, smashes in the face, closes the crate, and leaves all as before. Finally he escapes with Berlyn’s outer clothes and the smaller parts of the duplicator. He has only to get rid of these and his part in the ghastly business is complete.
In the meantime his confederate has driven the car out to a lonely part of the moor, changed the magneto, and made the tracks leading from the road.