“It was Mr. Rodney who advised me to consult you. As a civil lawyer with no experience of criminal practice, he felt hardly competent to deal with the case. That was what he said. It sounds rather ominous; as if he thought there might be some criminal element in the affair.”
“Not necessarily,” said Thorndyke. “But your husband is missing; and a missing man is certainly more in my province than in Rodney’s. What did he suggest that you should ask me to do?”
“I should wish, of course,” replied Margaret, “to get into communication with my husband. But if that is not possible, I should at least like to know what has become of him. Matters can’t be left in their present uncertain state. There is the future to think of.”
“Precisely,” agreed Thorndyke, “and as the future must be based upon the present and the past, we had better begin by setting out what we actually know and can prove. First, I understand that on the 23rd of June, your husband left Sennen, and was seen by several persons to leave, on a yacht in company with Mr. Varney and that there was no one else on board. The yacht reached Penzance at about half-past two in the afternoon and your husband went ashore at once. He was seen by Mr. Varney to land on the pier and go towards the town. Did any one besides Mr. Varney see him go ashore?”
“No—at least I have not heard of any one. Of course, he may have been seen by some fisherman or strangers on the pier. But does it matter? Mr. Varney saw him land and he certainly was not on the yacht when Mr. Rodney arrived half an hour later. There can’t be any possible doubt that he did land at Penzance.”
“No,” Thorndyke agreed; “but as that is the last time that he was certainly seen alive and as the fact that he landed may have to be proved in a court of law, additional evidence would be worth securing.”
“But that was not the last time that he was seen alive,” said Margaret; and here she gave him an account of Varney’s expedition to Falmouth, explaining why he went and giving full particulars respecting the steamer; all of which Thorndyke noted down on the note-book which lay by his side on the table.
“This is very important,” said he, when she had finished. “But you see that it is on a different plane of certainty. It is hearsay at the best and there is no real identification. What luck did Mr. Varney have at Ipswich?”
“He went down there on the evening of the 27th—the day after his visit to Falmouth. He went straight to the quay-side and made inquiries about the steamer Hedwig, which he learned had left about noon, having come in about nine o’clock on the previous night. He talked to various quay loafers and from one of them ascertained that a single passenger had landed; a big man, carrying a large bag or portmanteau in his hand and a coat of some kind on his arm. The passenger landed alone. Nothing was seen of any woman.”
“Did Mr. Varney take the name and address of his informant at Ipswich or the one at Falmouth?”