"That's just where the mystery lies, sir," replied Starmidge. "All the mystery of the affair lies in that man's coming at all! Let me find out who that man was, and what he came for, and if he and Mr. Horbury met, and where they went when they did meet—and I'll soon tell you—what would probably make your hair stand on end!" he muttered to himself, as he pulled a drawer out of the desk and placed it on a centre table before Betty. "Now, Miss Fosdyke, you get to work on that."
For over an hour the four curiously assorted searchers examined the contents of the missing man's desk, of another desk in the study, of certain letter-racks which hung above the mantelpieces in both rooms, of drawers in these rooms, of drawers and small cabinets in his bedroom. Starmidge turned out the pockets of all the clothing he could find: opened suit-cases, trunks, dressing-cases. They found nothing of the nature desired. And just as half-past one came, and Polke was wondering what Starmidge would do next, Jones came back and called him into the inner hall.
"I've got some news of her," he whispered. "She's off—from Scarnham, anyway, sir! I couldn't get any word of her in the town, nor at the cab-places: in fact, it's only within this last five minutes that I've got it."
"Well?" demanded Polke eagerly. "And what is it?"
"Young Mitchell, who has a taxi-cab of his own, you know," said Jones. "He told me—heard I was inquiring. He says that at half-past ten, just as he was coming out of his shed in River Street, Mrs. Carswell came up and asked him to drive her into Ecclesborough. He did—they got there at half-past eleven: he set her down at the Exchange Station. Then he came back—alone. So—she's got two hours' good start, sir—if she really is off!"
CHAPTER XII
THE FIRST FIND
Polke took a step or two on the pavement outside the bank, meditating on this latest development of a matter that was hourly growing in mystery. Why had this woman suddenly disappeared? Had she merely gone to Ecclesborough for the day?—or had she made it her first stage in a further journey? Why had she taken a taxi-cab for an eighteen-miles' ride, at considerable expense, when, at twelve o'clock, she could have got a train which would have carried her to Ecclesborough for fifteen pence? It seemed as if she had fled. And if she had fled, she had got, as the constable said, two hours' good start. And in Ecclesborough, too!—a place with a population of half a million, where there were three big railway stations, from any one of which a fugitive could set off east, west, north, south, at pleasure, and with no risk of attracting attention. Two hours!—Polke knew from long experience what can be done in two hours by a criminal escaping from justice.
He turned back to speak to his man—and as he turned, Joseph Chestermarke came out of the bank. Joseph gave him an insolent stare, and was about to pass him without recognition. But Polke stopped him.