The sea mystery

by Freeman Wills Crofts

With Mrs. Welsh’s help French made a list of the clothes likely to be in the suitcase. As these would have had a considerable weight, he thought it unlikely that Pyke would have walked very far. He therefore despatched three sets of men, one to make enquiries at the adjoining railways and tube stations, another to comb the neighbouring hotels and boarding-houses, and the third to search for a taxi driver who might have picked up such a fare in one of the near-by streets.

It was not until these urgent matters had been dealt with that he turned to consider his second line of enquiry. Of Jefferson Pyke himself he knew practically nothing. What was the man’s history? Why was he remaining in England? Particularly, where had he been at the time of the crime and while the crate was at Swansea.

He began operations by writing to the Lincoln police for all available information about Phyllis Considine, as well as Stanley and Jefferson Pyke. Then he sent a cable to the Argentine, asking the authorities there for details about Jefferson. He wired to the police at San Remo, Grasse, and in Paris, asking whether the cousins had stayed during the month of July at the various hotels Jefferson had mentioned. Lastly he rang up the Bibby Line offices to know if they could help him to trace two passengers named Pyke who had sailed from Liverpool to Marseilles on their Flintshire about four months previously.

The Bibby people replied that the Flintshire had been home, but had left again for Rangoon. However if Mr. French would call at their office they would show him the passenger list and perhaps give him other required information.

In an hour French was seated with the manager. There he inspected the list, which bore the names of Stanley and Jefferson Pyke, and he was assured that two gentlemen answering to these names had actually sailed.

“If that is not sufficient for you, it happens that you can get further evidence,” the manager went on. “Mr. Hawkins, the purser of the Flintshire, broke his arm on the homeward trip. He went off on sick leave and if you care to go down to Ramsgate you can see him.”

“I shall be only too glad,” French said.

Armed with an introduction from the manager, French travelled down next morning to the Isle of Thanet. Mr. Hawkins was exceedingly polite and gave him all the information in his power. He remembered the Pykes having sailed on the last trip from Birkenhead to Marseilles. Stanley Pyke he had not come in contact with more than in the normal way of business, though they had once chatted for a few moments about the day’s run. But he had seen a good deal of Jefferson. He, Mr. Hawkins, had spent a year in the Argentine in Jefferson’s district and they had found they had many acquaintances in common. He had formed a high opinion of Jefferson, both as a man of the world and as a rancher. Both the cousins had seemed in every way normal, and several of the passengers had expressed regret when the two left the ship at Marseilles.

On reaching London, French drove to the Houston. Showing his credentials, he asked whether two gentlemen, a Mr. Stanley and a Mr. Jefferson Pyke, had stayed there for one night towards the end of the previous July.

It was not to be expected that the reception clerk would remember either visitor. But she soon turned up the register. The names appeared on July 21st, both having been written by Stanley.