“What has he done?”
“He’s identical with a fashionable rogue and swindler who, under the name of Delancey, kept a night club and a gambling hell in Piccadilly, during the first year of the war. We had reasons for closing the place without a prosecution, and Delancey, instead of being sent to gaol, was allowed to enlist. He returned to England a few months ago, invalided out of the army, where he was known under the name of Powell. Since then he has been employed by the Government in secret service work: mixing with the Germans who are still at large in this country, and getting information about German spies. He was given this work to do because he speaks German so fluently that he can pass as a German amongst Germans.
“I suppose this girl Maynard will try to join him wherever he is,” resumed Gillett, after a pause. “It’s a queer thing, don’t you think, for a well-brought-up English girl of good family to make such a fool of herself over an unmitigated scoundrel like Delancey or Brett, or Powell, or whatever he calls himself? From what I have learnt up at Staveley this girl first met Brett about three months ago. I do not know how they came to know each other, but from her visit to Cliff Farm on the night of the murder I think that Lumsden must have introduced them. There was some bond between Brett and Lumsden which I have been unable to fathom. It is true they knew each other through being in the army together, but that fact doesn’t account for their continued association afterwards, because there was nothing in common between the two men: Brett was a double-dyed scoundrel, and Lumsden was a simple, quiet sort of chap.
“It may have been the attraction of opposites, or, it is more likely that Lumsden knew nothing about Brett’s past,” continued Gillett. “Brett was certainly not likely to reveal it, more especially after he met the girl, because then he would keep up his friendship with Lumsden in order to have opportunities of meeting her at Cliff Farm. She also used to visit Brett at Staveley; they’ve been seen together there several times. Apparently it was Brett’s idea to keep his meetings with this girl as secret as possible, and for that reason he used to see her at Cliff Farm with Lumsden’s connivance. Nevertheless, he was not altogether successful in keeping his love affair dark. On two occasions he was seen walking with the girl on Ashlingsea downs, not far from her mother’s house, and there’s been some local gossip in consequence—you know what these small country places are for gossip.”
“You’ve put this part of the case together very well,” said Crewe.
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Gillett laughed complacently. “Of course it was Scotland Yard that fished up all that about Brett’s antecedents. I flatter myself that we do that kind of thing better in London than anywhere: it’s difficult for a man to get rid of a shady past in England. However, I’d be more satisfied with my work if I had Brett under lock and key. What a fool I was not to go straight across to that girl’s house last night after I saw you, instead of waiting till the morning!”
“It wouldn’t have made much difference: I think she was warned by telephone, and probably the person who warned her knew you did not intend to look her up until the morning. If you had altered your plans she would have altered hers.”
“I could have telephoned to have her stopped at Victoria or London Bridge.”
“Not much use,” responded Crewe, with a shake of the head. “She wouldn’t have revealed Brett’s hiding-place.”
“I’d have kept her under lock and key to prevent her warning him,” said Gillett viciously.