“Well, he was wandering about the room clearing up his papers, and there was a despatch-box open on the table, and a suitcase on the floor. And, as I knew he was due to be at the funeral, I thought this was rather a funny time for him to want to leave. Especially as he’d given no notice to Mrs. Davis. So I wondered whether, perhaps, there was anything behind it.”
“You did well to wonder,” said Bredon. “So what did you do?”
“Well it stuck in my head that Mottram, when he came down here, came in a motor-car. Mrs. Davis, though her trade announcement advertises good accommodation for man and beast, does not run to a garage. There is only one in Chilthorpe; you can just see it down the road there. Now, thought I, if by any chance Mr. Brinkman is meditating a precipitate disappearance, it would be like his caution to have made all arrangements beforehand. And if I went down to the garage and had a look at the car, it might be that I, though heaven knows I am no motorist, should be able to see whether he had got the car in proper trim for a journey.”
“You must have talked very nicely to the garage people,” suggested Angela. “It would never do if you were suspected of being a motor-thief.”
“Well, I had to do my best. I changed my mind about going to the funeral, and made the excuse that I wanted to go fishing. I heard you gasp, Mr. Eames; but Brinkman knows nothing about fishing. Then, when you had started, I went off to the garage by myself. Fortunately, very fortunately for my purpose, it proved that there was nobody in. There are only two men, in any case, and they neglect their business a good deal. I had an excuse if one was needed, but when I found myself alone in the garage I flung caution to the winds. There was a cardcase inside which shewed me which was Mottram’s car. My investigations led me to the conclusion that the car was in readiness for an immediate and secret departure for some considerable journey.”
“Do tell us what they were,” said Angela demurely. “Just for the interest of the thing.”
“Well, I removed with some difficulty a kind of cap from that thing behind, which put me in a position to examine the interior of what is, I suspect, called the petrol-tank. The careful insertion of a pencil shewed that the tank was quite full; which suggested that a refill had been obtained since they arrived.”
“They might have run short on the journey down, a mile or two out,” suggested Angela. “But this was not all?”
“No, there was a map lying on the driver’s seat, somewhat carelessly folded up. I thought it a point of interest that this map did not include Pullford, and seemed to contemplate an expedition to the west or southwest.”
“There’s not a great deal in that,” said Bredon. “Still, it’s suggestive. Anything else?”