He showed me a picture of a man taken with his head upon a pillow. But it was not that of Stanley Audley, but of a round-faced man with a small moustache—evidently the man who, when home in Half Moon Street had assumed the name of Audley, while the real Audley lived as Mr. Graydon.
Sight of those photographs staggered me. What message did the false Audley wish to convey to Thelma? Was it concerning the whereabouts or movements of her husband?
So Ruthen had been one of the rapidly moving party which had gone to France in order to pass the spurious notes, and with such disastrous results. It was true that Stanley Audley had been killed, but he was not the man of whom I was in such diligent search, not the man to whom Thelma had been married!
That afternoon I sent a telegram to Thelma at Bexhill, assuring her that her husband was not dead, and that same evening I left Saumur for London.
Next evening when I arrived at Russell Square, I saw upon my table one of those now familiar envelopes. It had been sent by express messenger from Crouch Hill, and not from Hammersmith. On tearing it open I read—
“You are still beating the wind! As you will not heed any warning and are still trying to meddle with affairs that do not concern you, do not be surprised if you receive a sudden shock. Your visit to Saumur was a perilous one for more reasons than one. The truth is too deeply hidden for you ever to discover it. Why court death as you are daily doing?”
So my enemies already knew of my rapid journey to the Loire, though I had not told a soul, except my partner Hensman! Evidently a close watch was being kept upon my movements.
Ruthen was back in town, glad I suppose to escape from a very embarrassing position, for it was clear that both men had immediately made themselves scarce, leaving their friend to his fate.
At the office next day I told Hensman of what I had discovered, and showed him the note that I had received on the previous night.
“Really, Rex, the puzzle seems to grow more and more complicated every day, doesn’t it? The change of names, from one man to the other seems so very curious. And yet, of course, Audley must have married in his own name.”