Money for Nothing (17 page)

'How do you mean, only in a manner of speaking?'

'Well, it was like this, Mr John . . .'

'Look here,' said John. 'Tell me the whole thing right from the start.'

Sturgis glanced cautiously at the door. When he spoke, it was in a lowered voice, which gave his delivery the effect of a sheep bleating with cotton-wool in its mouth.

'I was awake with my rheumatism last night, Mr John, and at last it come on so bad I felt I really couldn't hardly bear it no longer. I lay in bed, thinking, and after I had thought for quite some time, Mr John, it suddenly crossed my mind that Mr Hugo had once remarked, while kindly interesting himself in my little trouble, that a glassful of whisky, drunk without water, frequently alleviated the pain.'

John nodded. So far, the story bore the stamp of truth. A glassful of neat whisky was just what Hugo would have recommended for any complaint, from rheumatism to a broken heart.

'So I thought in the circumstances that Mr Carmody would not object if I tried a little. So I got out of bed and put on my overcoat, and I had just reached the head of the stairs, it being my intention to go to the cellarette in the dining-room, when what should I hear but a noise.'

'What sort of noise?'

'A sort of sneezing noise, Mr John. As it might be somebody sneezing.'

'Yes? Well?'

'I was stottled.'

'Stottled? Oh, yes, I see. Well?'

'I remained at the head of the stairs. For quite a while I remained at the head of the stairs. Then I crope . . .'

'You what?'

'I crope to the door of the picture-gallery.'

'Oh, I see. Yes?'

'Because the sneezing seemed to have come from there. And then I heard another sneeze. Two or three sneezes, Mr John. As if whoever was in there had got a nasty cold in the head. And then I heard footsteps coming towards the door.'

'What did you do?'

'I went back to the head of the stairs again, sir. If anybody had told me half an hour before that I could have moved so quick I wouldn't have believed him. And then out of the door came a man carrying a bag. He had one of those electric torches. He went down the stairs, but it was only when he was at the bottom that I caught even a glimpse of his face.'

'But you did then?'

'Yes, Mr John, for just a moment. And I was stottled.'

'Why? You mean he was somebody you knew?'

The butler lowered his voice again.

'I could have sworn, Mr John, it was that Doctor Twist who came over here the other day from Healthward Ho.'

'Doctor Twist!'

'Yes, Mr John. I didn't tell the policeman just now, and I wouldn't tell anybody but you, because after all it was only a glimpse, as you might say, and I couldn't swear to it, and there's defamation of character to be considered. So I didn't mention it to Mr Mould when he was inquiring of me. I said I'd heard nothing, being in my bed at the time. Because, apart from defamation of character and me not being prepared to swear on oath, I wasn't sure how Mr Carmody would like the idea of my going to the dining-room cellarette even though in agonies of pain. So I'd be much obliged if you would not mention it to him, Mr John.'

'I won't.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'You'd better leave me to think this over, Sturgis.'

'Very good, Mr John.'

'You were quite right to tell me.'

'Thank you, Mr John. Are you coming downstairs to finish your breakfast, sir?'

John waved away the material suggestion.

'No. I want to think.'

'Very good, Mr John.'

Left alone, John walked to the window and frowned meditatively out. His brain was now working with a rapidity and clearness which the most professional of detectives might have envied. For the first time since his cousin Hugo had come to him to have his head repaired he began to realize that there might have been something, after all, in that young man's rambling story. Taken in conjunction with what Sturgis had just told him, Hugo's weird tale of finding Doctor Twist burgling the house became significant.

This Twist, now. After all, what about him? He had come from nowhere to settle down in Worcestershire, ostensibly in order to conduct a health-farm. But what if that health-farm were a mere blind for more dastardly work? After all, it was surely a commonplace that your scientific criminal invariably adopted some specious cover of respectability for his crimes. . . .

Into the radius of John's vision there came Mr Thomas G. Molloy, walking placidly beside the moat with his dashing daughter. It seemed to John as if he had been sent at just this moment for a purpose. Whathe wanted above all things was a keen-minded, sensible man of the world with whom to discuss these suspicions of his, and who was better qualified for this rôle than Mr Molloy? Long since he had fallen under the spell of the other's magnetic personality, and had admired the breadth of his intellect. Thomas G. Molloy was, it seemed to him, the ideal confidant.

He left the room hurriedly, and ran down the stairs.

Mr Molloy was still strolling beside the moat when John arrived. He greeted him with his usual bluff kindliness. Soapy, like John some half-hour earlier, was feeling amiably disposed towards all mankind this morning.

'Well, well, well!' said Soapy. 'So you're back? Did you have a pleasant time in London?'

'All right, thanks. I wanted to see you....'

'You've heard about this unfortunate business last night?'

'Yes. It was about that. . . .'

'I have never been so upset by anything in my life,' said Mr Molloy. 'By pure bad luck Dolly here and myself went over to Birmingham after dinner to see a show, and in our absence the outrage must have occurred. I venture to say,' went on Mr Molloy, a sternlook creeping into his eyes, 'that if only I'd been on the spot the thing could never have happened. My hearing's good, and I'm pretty quick on a trigger, Mr Carroll – pretty quick, let me tell you. It would have taken a right smart burglar to have gotten past me.'

'You bet it would,' said Dolly. 'Gee! It's a pity. And the man didn't leave a single trace, did he?'

'A finger-print – or it may have been a thumb-print – on the sill of the window, honey. That was all. And I don't see what good that's going to do us. You can't round up the population of England and ask to see their thumbs.'

'And outside of that not so much as a single trace. Isn't it too bad! From start to finish not a soul set eyes on the fellow.'

'Yes they did,' said John. 'That's what I came to talk to you about. One of the servants heard a noise and came out and saw him going down the staircase.'

If he had failed up to this point to secure the undivided attention of his audience, he had got it now. Miss Molloy seemed suddenly to become all eyes, and so tremendous was the joy and relief of Mr Molloy that he actually staggered.

'Saw him?' exclaimed Miss Molloy.

'Sus-saw him?' echoed her father, scarcely able to speak in his delight.

'Yes. Do you by any chance know a man named Twist?'

'Twist?' said Mr Molloy, still speaking with difficulty. He wrinkled his forehead. 'Twist? Do I know a man named Twist, honey?'

'The name seems kind of familiar,' admitted Miss Molloy.

'He runs a place called Healthward Ho about twenty miles from here. My uncle stayed there for a couple of weeks. It's a place where people go to get into condition – a sort of health-farm, I suppose you would call it.'

'Of course, yes. I have heard Mr Carmody speak of his friend Twist. But . . .'

'Apparently he called here the other day – to see my uncle, I suppose, and this servant I'm speaking about saw him and is convinced that he was the burglar.'

'Improbable, surely?' Mr Molloy seemed still to be having a little trouble with his breath. 'Surely not very probable? This man Twist, from what you tell me, is a personal friend of your uncle. Why, therefore . . . Besides, if he owns a prosperous business . . .'

John was not to be put off the trail by mere superficial argument. Doctor Watson may be slow at starting, but, once started, he is a bloodhound for tenacity.

'I've thought of all that. I admit it did seem curious at first. But if you come to look into it you can see that the very thing a burglar who wanted to operate in these parts would do is to start some business that would make people unsuspicious of him.'

Mr Molloy shook his head.

'It sounds far-fetched to me.'

John's opinion of his sturdy good sense began to diminish.

'Well, anyhow,' he said in his solid way, 'this servant is sure he recognized Twist, and one can't do any harm by going over there and having a look at the man. I've got quite a good excuse for seeing him. My uncle's having a dispute about his bill, and I can say I came over to discuss it.'

'Yes,' said Mr Molloy in a strained voice. 'But—'

'Sure you can,' said Miss Molloy, with sudden animation. 'Smart of you to think of that. You need an excuse, if you don't want to make this Twist fellow suspicious.'

'Exactly,' said John.

He looked at the girl with something resembling approval.

'And there's another thing,' proceeded Miss Molloy, warming to her subject. 'Don't forget that this bird, if he's the man that did the burgling last night, has a cut finger or thumb. If you find this Twist is going around with sticking-plaster on him, why then that'll be evidence.'

John's approval deepened.

'That's a great idea,' he agreed. 'What I was thinking was that I wanted to find out if Twist has a cold in the head.'

'A kuk-kuk-kuk . . .?' said Mr Molloy.

'Yes. You see, the burglar had. He was sneezing all the time, my informant tells me.'

'Well, say, this begins to look like the goods,' cried Miss Molloy gleefully. 'If this fellow has a cut thumb
and
a cold in the head, there's nothing to it. It's all over except tearing off the false whiskers and saying "I am Hawkshaw, the Detective!" Say, listen. You get that little car of yours out and you and I will go right over to Healthward Ho, now. You see, if I come along that'll make him all the more unsuspicious. We'll tell him I'm a girl with a brother that's been whooping it up a little too hearty for some time past, and I want to make inquiries with the idea of putting him where he can't get the stuff for awhile. I'm sure you're on the right track. This bird Twist is the villain of the piece, I'll bet a million dollars. As you say, a fellow that wanted to burgle houses in these parts just naturally would settle down and pretend to be something respectable. You go and get that car out, Mr Carroll, and we'll be off right away.'

John reflected. Filled though he was with the enthusiasm of the chase, he could not forget that his time today was earmarked for other and higher things than the investigation of the mysterious Doctor Twist of Healthward Ho.

'I must be back here by a quarter to one,' he said.

'Why?'

'I must.'

'Well, that's all right. We're not going to spend the weekend with this guy. We're simply going to take a look at him. As soon as we've done that, we come right home and turn the thing over to the police. It's only twenty miles. You'll be back here again before twelve.'

'Of course,' said John. 'You're perfectly right. I'll have the car out in a couple of minutes.'

He hurried off. His views concerning Miss Molloy now were definitely favourable. She might not be the sort of girl he could ever like, she might not be the sort of girl he wanted staying at the Hall, but it was idle to deny that she had her redeeming qualities. About her intelligence, for instance, there was, he felt, no doubt whatsoever.

And yet it was with regard to this intelligence that Soapy Molloy was at this very moment entertaining doubts of the gravest kind. His eyes were protruding a little, and he uttered an odd, strangled sound.

'It's all right, you poor sap,' said Dolly, meeting his shocked gaze with a confident unconcern.

Soapy found speech.

'All right? You say it's all right? How's it all right? If you hadn't pulled all that stuff . . .'

'Say, listen!' said Dolly urgently. 'Where's your sense? He would have gone over to see Chimp anyway, wouldn't he? Nothing we could have done would have headed him off from that, would it? And he'd have noticed Chimp had a cut finger, without my telling him, wouldn't he? All I've done is to make him think I'm on the level and working in cahoots with him.'

'What's the use of that?'

'I'll tell you what use it is. I know what I'm doing. Listen, Soapy, you just race into the house and get those knock-out drops and give them to me. And make it snappy,' said Dolly.

As when on a day of rain and storm there appears among the clouds a tiny gleam of blue, so now, at those magic words 'knockout drops', did there flicker into Mr Molloy's sombre face a faint suggestion of hope.

'Don't you worry, Soapy. I've got this thing well in hand. When we've gone, you jump to the 'phone and get Chimp on the wire and tell him this guy and I are on our way over. Tell him I'm bringing the kayo drops and I'll slip them to him as soon as I arrive. Tell him to be sure to have something to drink handy and to see that this bird gets a taste of it.'

'I get you, pettie!' Mr Molloy's manner was full of a sort of awe-struck reverence, like that of some humble adherent of Napoleon listening to his great leader outlining plans for a forthcoming campaign; but nevertheless it was tinged with doubt. He had always admired his wife's broad, spacious outlook, but she was apt sometimes, he considered, in her fresh young enthusiasm, to overlook details. 'But, pettie,' he said, 'is this wise? Don't forget you're not in Chicago now. I mean, supposing you do put this fellow to sleep, he's going to wake up pretty soon, isn't he? And when he does won't he raise an awful holler?'

'I've got that all fixed. I don't know what sort of staff Chimp keeps over at that joint of his, but he's probably got assistants and all like that. Well, you tell him to tell them that there's a young lady coming over with a brother that wants looking after, and this brother has got to be given a sleeping-draught and locked away somewhere to keep him from getting violent and doing somebody an injury. That'll get him out of the way long enough for us to collect the stuff and clear out. It's rapid action now, Soapy. Now that Chimp has gummed the game by letting himself be seen we've got to move quick. We've got to make our getaway today. So don't you go off wandering about the fields picking daisies after I've gone. You stick round that 'phone, because I'll be calling you before long. See?'