Inquiries at the other Club were equally barren. Mr. Walter Brooklyn had not been there that day. He might come in, or he might not. And again Joan saw from the porter’s manner that here too her stepfather was under suspicion of murder.
Joan left at each Club a message asking Walter Brooklyn to ring her up at Liskeard House immediately he came in. This was all that could be done for the moment; and to Liskeard House they returned, having suffered a check at the outset of their quest. Ellery promised to spend the evening scouring London for traces of Walter Brooklyn; and in the mind of each was the half-formed thought that he might have fled rather than reveal what he knew. Each knew that the other feared this; but neither put the thought into words. They arranged to meet again on the following morning, and Ellery was to ring up later in the evening to report whether he had traced Walter, and to hear whether any message had come to Joan from either of the Clubs. Then, after the manner of lovers, they bade each other farewell a dozen times over, each farewell more lingering than the last. At length Ellery went; for he was due at Scotland Yard, where he hoped to find that his alibi had been accepted, and the last trace of suspicion removed from him. It would be awkward to be followed about by the man in police boots wherever he went with Joan, and it would be awkward to have the police know exactly what they were doing in Walter Brooklyn’s interest. The police boots had followed Joan and him on their visits to the two Clubs, and now, as he left Liskeard House, Ellery saw their owner leaning against a lamp-post opposite, and gazing straight at the front door. Never, he thought, had a man looked more obviously a detective—or rather a policeman in plain clothes. Even apart from the boots, he was labelled policeman all over—from his measured stride to the tips of his waxed moustache. As Ellery turned down into Piccadilly, he heard the man coming along behind him.
Chapter XV.
To and Fro
It was by a fortunate accident that Ellery had been able so soon to establish his alibi. After drawing blank at the Chelsea Arts Club, he had had very little of an idea where he should try next. He was almost certain that it was there he had been introduced to the man, and the only course seemed to be that of waiting until he turned up again, or his name somehow came back to mind. Still, it was just possible that Ellery had met the man at his other Club in the Adelphi, and he got on a bus and went there to pursue his inquiries. His success was no better, although he remained there to lunch and made persistent inquiries of his fellow-members for an actor whose name began with an F. The afternoon found him walking rather disconsolately down the Strand not at all certain where to go next. Just outside the Golden Cross Hotel, fortune did him a good turn; for he ran straight into the very man he was looking for. Ellery turned back with him, and explained the difficulty he was in, and his acquaintance promised to go at once to Scotland Yard, and try to set matters right with Inspector Gibbs. He was so friendly that Ellery had some difficulty in admitting that he had forgotten his name; but he got round it by asking for his address, in case of need. The other’s answer was to hand him a card, on which was written:—
William Gloucester,
11 Denzil Street, S. W. 3.
“Of course,” said Ellery to himself. “But it didn’t begin with an F after all.”
This meeting put Ellery at his ease; and he felt that he could now go and see Joan with a clear conscience. Leaving Gloucester to go to Scotland Yard, and asking him to tell the inspector that he would come round later, he set off for Liskeard House, and found himself charged with the task of clearing, not himself, but Walter Brooklyn. He also found himself engaged to be married.
These events made it all the more essential to make quite sure that the police were no longer inclined to look on him with suspicion; and, on leaving Joan, he went straight to Scotland Yard, and was soon received, not by Inspector Gibbs, but by Superintendent Wilson, who, having received the inspector’s report on Gloucester’s visit, had made up his mind to have a look at Ellery himself. The superintendent at once put him at his ease by telling him that his explanation, and his friend’s corroboration of it, appeared to be quite satisfactory. Ellery’s reply was to say that, in that case, perhaps he might be relieved of the presence of the heavy-footed individual who had been following him about all day. The superintendent laughed. “Yes, I think we can find something more useful for him to do,” he said. “I hope you have not resented our—shall I say?—attentions. We were bound to keep an eye on you until we were certain.” And the superintendent at once gave instructions on the house-phone that the man who had been watching Ellery need do so no longer, but should report to him in a few minutes in his room.
Ellery assured him that it was quite all right; but that he was glad to be relieved of the man, because he wanted to do a little private detecting on his own. “I know you people have got your knife into Walter Brooklyn; but I’m sure he had nothing to do with it, and I mean to do my best to find out who had.” Ellery said this deliberately, in the hope of getting the superintendent to show something of his hand; but that wary official merely wished him luck—for “we policemen,” he said, “are always glad to have a man’s character cleared, though you may not think it”—and politely bowed him out. So far as he could see, no one followed him as he left the building, and he went back to Liskeard House. He had said that he would ’phone; but he found it quite beyond his power to keep away.
Joan was busy with Sir Vernon when he arrived; but she came to him before long. No message had come from Walter Brooklyn, and she was getting anxious. Was it possible that he had been arrested already? Ellery promised to make inquiries, and to use every possible effort to find her stepfather; but, though he tried that evening every place he could think of in which Walter Brooklyn might be, no trace of him could be found, and there was no sign that he had been arrested. Resumed inquiries early the next morning were equally fruitless. Brooklyn had not been back to either of his Clubs, and no message had been received from him. It was under these circumstances that Joan failed to see her stepfather before the inquest opened. She was greatly relieved to see that he was present, and promising herself that she would talk to him as soon as it was over, she did nothing while the inquest was actually in progress. She passed a note to him asking him to come round and see her at Liskeard House immediately the court rose, and he nodded to her in reply across the room. She therefore felt no anxiety when he rose and left his seat before the proceedings came to an end. Thus it came about that he was arrested without her having a chance to ask him to tell his story of the events of Tuesday night.