There's just one point I'd like to hear you on. What about Staveley's resuscitation after his being killed in the war? Did you get to the bottom of that by any chance?”
Sir Clinton hesitated a little before answering.
“I don't much care about pure guesswork, squire; but, if you'll take it as that, then I don't mind saying what I think. Suppose that is what happened. Staveley and Derek Fordingbridge went into action together; and Staveley was under a cloud at the time. He'd probably had enough of the war, and was looking for a way out. Derek Fordingbridge gets killed in that battle, and is probably badly damaged in the process—made unrecognisable we may suppose. Staveley sees him killed, and grasps at the chance offered. He takes Derek's identity disc off the body and leaves his own instead. Probably he takes the contents of the pockets too, and puts his own papers into the dead man's pockets. They were friends; and, if anyone saw him at work, he'd have his excuse ready. No one would think he was robbing the dead. Then he goes on—and simply hands himself over to the enemy. He's a prisoner of war—under Derek's name.
“He manages to escape, and the escape is put down to Derek's credit. But, of course, Derek never turns up again; and naturally people suppose that he must have died of exposure in his last attempt, or been shot at the frontier, or something of that sort. Meanwhile Staveley, once out of Germany, drops his borrowed identity, probably changes his name, and disappears. I suspect he was in very hot water with the military authorities, and was only too glad of the chance to vanish for good.
“After the war, he evidently got in amongst a queer gang, and lived as best he could. Billingford's evidence points to that. And somewhere among this shoal of queer fish he swam up against our friend Cargill. My reading of the thing is that somehow Staveley gave away—perhaps in his cups—something of what I've given you as my guess; and Cargill, remembering his disfigured brother, saw a grand scheme to be worked by putting forward his brother as claimant to the Foxhills property.
“It wasn't half so wild a plan as the Tichborne business, and you know how that panned out at the start. So the three of them set to work to see the thing through. Staveley, I suspect, got hold of Aird, who had invaluable information about all the affairs at Foxhills in the old days. Then they went to work systematically with their card-index and noted down everything that Aird and Staveley could remember which would bear on the case.
“That accounts for the delay in the claimant turning up. It probably was quite recently that Staveley fell in with Cargill. And evidently the delay points to the fact that Staveley wasn't the originator of the notion, else he'd have got to work much earlier. It was only when he fell in with Cargill, who had a brother suitable to play the part of the claimant, that anything could be done. Then they must have spent some time in unearthing Aird.
“Well, at last they're ready. They come down to Lynden Sands with their card-index handy. Now, the claimant doesn't want to appear in public more than he can help, for every stranger is a possible danger to him. He might fail to recognise some old friend, and the fat might be in the fire. Nor does Staveley want to show himself; for his presence might suggest the source of the claimant's information. Aird's in the same position. And when they learn that the Fordingbridges are at the hotel, Cargill is detached there to keep an eye on them. Thus they need a go-between; and Billingford is brought down to serve that purpose. Also, as soon as the claimant makes his first move there will be sure to be a lot of gossip in the village, anecdotes of the claimant's history floating round, and so forth; and Billingford will be able to pick them up and report them to the rest of the gang. They'd have been safer to leave Staveley and Aird in London; but I suppose they were afraid something might be sprung on them and they wanted their references handy.
“Peter Hay, I suspect, they fastened on as being the most dangerous witness. Probably Aird made an appointment for the claimant, and they called at the poor old chap's cottage at night. He evidently refused to have anything to do with them; and he was too dangerous to leave alive; so they killed him. Then they went after the diary—probably Aird knew about that, or else Peter may have let the information out somehow—and they took Hay's keys to get into Foxhills. The silver plant was an obvious muddle. They hadn't Cargill at the back of them at the time, and they made that mistake on the spur of the moment.
“By that time they'd got in touch with Miss Fordingbridge. Aird would know all about her spiritualistic leanings, and they played on that string. But soon they learned they were up against Paul Fordingbridge; and they began to see that it would be easiest to put him out of their road.