"Good notion!" agreed Polke. "Well—we can watch him."
"I'm beginning to think we must watch him—thought so for the last two hours," said Starmidge. "But in the meantime, why not put the Ecclesborough police on to keeping their eyes open for her? Can you give them a good description?"
"Know her as well as I know my own wife—by sight," answered Polke. "And her style of dressing, too. All right—I'll go and do it, now. Well, there'll be Mr. Batterley coming along in a few minutes—Jones has gone for him. If he can show you any of their secret places he talked about——"
"He's here," said Starmidge, as the old antiquary and the constable entered the hall. "All right—I'll attend to him."
But when Polke had gone, and Batterley had been conducted into the study, or garden-room as he insisted on calling it, Starmidge left the old man with Mr. Pellworthy and Betty and made an excuse to go out of the room after the housemaid, who had just brought in the tea for which Polke had asked. He caught her at the foot of the staircase, and treated her to one of his most ingratiating smiles.
"I say!" he said, "Mr. Polke's just been telling me about what you and the cook told him about Mrs. Carswell—you know. Now, I say—you needn't say anything—except to cook—but I just want to take a look round Mrs. Carswell's room. Which is it?"
The cook, who kept the kitchen door open so as not to lose anything of these delightful proceedings, came forward. Both accompanied Starmidge upstairs to show him the room he wanted. And Starmidge thanked them profusely and in his best manner—after which he turned them politely out and locked the door.
Meanwhile Polke went to the police-station and rang up the Ecclesborough police on the telephone. He gave them a full, accurate, and precise description of Mrs. Carswell, and a detailed account of her doings that morning, and begged them to make inquiry at the three great stations in their town. The man with whom he held conversation calmly remarked that as each station at Ecclesborough dealt with a few thousands of separate individuals every day, it was not very likely that booking-clerks or platform officials would remember any particular persons, and Polke sorrowfully agreed with him. Nevertheless, he begged him to do his best—the far-off partner in this interchange of remarks answered that they would do a lot better if Mr. Polke would tell them something rather more definite. Polke gave it up at that, and went off into the Market-Place again, to return to the bank. But before he reached the bank he ran across Lord Ellersdeane, who, hanging about the town to hear some result of the search, had been lunching at the Scarnham Club, and now came out of its door.
"Any news so far?" asked the Earl.
Polke glanced round to see that nobody was within hearing. He and Lord Ellersdeane stepped within the doorway of the club-house. Polke narrated the story of the various happenings since the granting of the search-warrant, and the Earl's face grew graver and graver.