“And whom did you see first?” asked Crewe.
“I went to the garage first to learn about the motor-car Brett hired,” said Gillett. “I had a look at their books, and found that he had the car on Friday afternoon. Gosford will not only swear by his books, but he remembers quite distinctly that it was on Friday that Brett had the car. As he told you, the next thing he heard of it was that it was lying in the ditch about six miles away. He says Brett, when telephoning, said he was speaking from Lewes—but that is probably a lie. As Brett was making his escape he would not be likely to say where he was. But I can easily find out from the telephone exchange where the call came from. It was a trunk call, and the only trunk call Gosford received that day, so there will be no difficulty in getting it from the records of the exchange. Then I went to Brett’s lodgings in Whitethorn Gardens. This woman, Mrs. Penfield, tried to bluff me—she said she was certain that Brett had left on Thursday, and that Gosford was mistaken in thinking Brett had the car on Friday. But, when I threatened to arrest her for being an accessory, she broke down and admitted that Brett left her place after lunch on Friday to drive to Cliff Farm, and that she has not seen or heard of him since.”
“Not seen or heard of him?” echoed Crewe meditatively.
“By this time I felt that I was getting on,” continued Detective Gillett.
Sergeant Westaway nodded to himself in sour depression at the deliberate exclusion of himself from the story of progress.
“I next called at Grange’s shop. Westaway showed me the place.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the sergeant, as if he were in pain.
“I explained to Grange who I was, and he nearly fell through the floor with fright. I saw there would not be much difficulty in dealing with him. But the ugly little dwarf upstairs was a different proposition. She protested that she and her husband knew nothing about Cliff Farm, or what had happened there. Even when I produced the hat you gave me she would not give in. But when I produced the comb—it is exactly similar to the one she was wearing—it made an impression, and then when I followed that up with a threat to arrest them both——”
“Ah!” interrupted Crewe with a smile, “that is where you Scotland Yard men have the advantage. And I must say that you don’t neglect to use it on every occasion. If I could only threaten people with arrest I should be able to surmount many of the difficulties which confront me from time to time.”
“It is a good card,” admitted Detective Gillett, with the pride of a man who holds a strong hand which he has dealt himself. “It enabled me to get their story out of them, and a most interesting story it is.”