Mystery on Southampton Water

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  The shed was dimly illuminated and a glance showed that it contained, not one, but two, rotary kilns. They were revolving noisily, but as they automatically fed themselves with slurry and fuel and discharged the clinker, it did not follow that anyone was looking after them. However, Brand slipped behind a tank which stood near the door, while King crossed over to the kilns and disappeared between them.

  He was away only a few moments. ‘There’s no one in the shed,’ he said as he came up. ‘Let’s get out while we can.’

  Cautiously they reopened the door, and after glancing round, they slipped out, closed the door behind them and made their way to the second of the new sheds. Here, again, their luck held. Another of King’s keys opened the door and once again they found the shed untenanted. It also contained two kilns in motion.

  ‘This fairly beats me,’ King declared when he had finished his tour of inspection. ‘The process must be connected with these four secret kilns, but I’m hanged if I can see how. They appear to be perfectly ordinary kilns, except that they’re only about a third the normal length. And then to make the thing worse, they’ve got a full length one outside.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘Come,’ he went on, ‘let’s get out of this. Some of these chaps may come in to do a bit of greasing at any time.’

  Still unobserved they left the shed and retreated round its corner into hiding. King swore in exasperation. ‘It beats me,’ he repeated. ‘I was sure that if we could get into those sheds we would find all we wanted, and I’m blessed if I’m a bit wiser now we’ve done it.’

  Brand was nearly as much upset. ‘That’s a blow, King, I will admit,’ he said. ‘After all our labour and what we’ve risked!’

  ‘I’m not going to leave till I’ve found the darned thing out,’ King went on. ‘Hang it all, if they can invent the process, I can surely follow it when I see it working before my eyes!’ He paused, then went on uneasily: ‘I wonder could I have another peep into the offices? It’s a pity when we’re here not to get all the information possible. One more effort might give us what we want.’

  Brand was not enthusiastic, but King quickly talked him over. ‘I expect one of these keys will open the private door, so that we needn’t go near the watchman’s hut. Come on, Brand. It’s worth an effort.’

  Brand reluctantly agreed, and they moved off along the shed wall. The fog by this time had slightly cleared. It was still thick, but they could now see for fifty or sixty feet. As the vapour thinned, the moonlight had grown stronger, and nearby details were clearly visible.

  Since they started their investigation they had had a streak of wonderful luck, but now they reached its end. Suddenly a dreadful thing happened, so quickly that Brand scarcely realised what was taking place until it was over. As they slipped round the corner of the shed, they all but ran into a man.

  ‘Oh,’ he cried in a high-pitched voice, ‘there you are! I’ve just seen your ladder. The boss will have something to say to you! Put them up, will you!’

  Brand was slightly in advance as they turned the corner and now to his horror he saw that he was looking into the barrel of an automatic pistol. It was the first time he had ever had that view of a pistol, and even in his excitement he found himself thinking how much more sinister that little circle of steel looked than any other single object he had ever seen. Instinctively he raised his hands above his head, feeling as if the end of the world had come.

  But neither Brand nor his adversary had reckoned on the alert mind of King. As the unknown raised his hand King dropped to a crouching position, and before either of the others realised, he had sprung swiftly forward and upward, while his right fist, shooting out, caught the man with the pistol a sharp crack on the point of the chin.

  Brand had never seen anyone so completely knocked out. The man collapsed without a struggle. He fell backwards with a horrid thud on to the ground and lay still.

  ‘Lucky we had our masks on,’ said King, as he dropped on his knees beside him. ‘He’ll be none the worse, but he’ll scarcely come round till we’ve gone.’

  ‘I wonder if he’s alone?’ Brand observed, also kneeling down.

  ‘Sure to be,’ King returned. ‘It’s the night watchman, Clay: the man I talked to in the pub. He’s been on his rounds—’

  King’s voice trailed away into silence. But Brand did not notice. He was not listening. A dreadful misgiving had shot into his mind, and it seemed from King’s sudden stiffening that he was experiencing it too. This man, Clay, was looking very odd. Very still, very ghastly … Brand shone his torch on the ground.

  ‘King,’ he said in a queer, hoarse tone, and pointing with a shaking finger, ‘that stone! He hit his head on it!’

  King for a moment did not answer, then his voice came also strange and toneless. ‘My God, Brand! Get water. There’s some in that barrel.’ He pointed vaguely in the direction in which they had come.

  With his heart thumping painfully Brand hurried away. He found the barrel, filled his cap, and ran back. King moistened his handkerchief and bathed the man’s face.

  ‘More water,’ King muttered.

  Brand, trembling now in every limb, hurried back to the barrel and refilled his cap. When he got back he found that King had opened the man’s clothes and was feeling his heart.

  ‘Well?’ breathed Brand.

  King, his face grown nearly as white as that of the watchman, shook his head. ‘Give me that water.’ He took the cap. ‘Can you feel anything?’

  Brand knelt and put his hand over the watchman’s heart. There was no movement there. Not the faintest trace of a pulse remained. Brand looked up in speechless horror. For some moments there was silence, and then King spoke. ‘We must face it, Brand,’ he said in that same queer, toneless voice: ‘he’s dead!’

  Brand felt almost sick.

  ‘Oh, King, he’s not?’ he whispered, but as he said it, he knew. There was no doubt. Clay was dead.

  Slowly the two men rose from their knees and stood looking down at the inanimate body.

  ‘The poor fellow!’ Brand said desperately. ‘Can we do nothing?’

  King seemed stunned. For once his energy and efficiency had deserted him. He shook his head helplessly.

  ‘The poor chap!’ Brand repeated. ‘And he was only doing his duty. But you couldn’t help it, King. It was the merest accident.’

  King slowly pulled himself together.

  ‘A lot of good that’ll do us,’ he returned, and in his voice there was that same dreadful horror. ‘Who’s going to believe that?’

  Brand started. This was a new point. He had been so taken up with the actual tragedy that the possible consequences to himself and King had not occurred to him.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he gasped.

  ‘What do I mean?’ King retorted, now once more himself. ‘What do you think I mean? If we’re caught here there’s a charge of murder against us. That’s what I mean.’

  Brand was appalled. For the moment he had not seen that this consequence was inevitable, but now it burned itself into his consciousness.

  ‘But it was an accident,’ he stammered, loath to face the hideous truth.

  ‘Don’t I know it was an accident? What’s the good of harping on that? Do you think any jury on this earth would believe it?’

  Instinctively they stepped back a few paces from the recumbent figure and King went on. ‘No; we may make up our minds to it: if we’re caught, we’re as good as hanged! Nothing in this world could save us.’

  Brand shivered. ‘But they wouldn’t believe it was deliberate, King. Our characters.’

  King swore bitterly. ‘Our characters, yes, that would help us a lot! We’re here to steal another man’s property: we’re caught in the act by his servant: we resort to physical force to escape: we kill the servant. Characters, indeed! I tell you, Brand, it doesn’t matter what we meant to do. Don’t be more of a damned fool than you can help. I tell you if we’re caught we haven’t a dog’s chance.’

  Brand took a deep breath
. ‘Then let’s get away quick before we are caught,’ he urged.

  King shook his head. ‘For heaven’s sake, Brand, pull yourself together,’ he growled savagely. ‘We’ve got to do a whole lot more than that. Don’t you see that if we go straight away, we’re certain to be traced? Do use your brains! We’ve got to fix up something better than that. Let’s carry the poor chap to the ladder where no one’s likely to come, and then we’ll think out our plans.’

  With shrinking they moved the remains, then drawing back a short distance, sat down on some old boxes. Action had calmed Brand, but now an overwhelming feeling of horror surged up in his mind. He knew that he must fight it down. He must keep cool and so help King. How thankful he was to have King! King was a tower of strength in an emergency. King would find a way out.

  ‘Now let’s see,’ began King, still in that hoarse, toneless voice, ‘just how we stand. First, we’ll take what’s against us, then what’s for us, and then what we should do. It’s now’—he glanced at his wristwatch—‘just getting on to twelve and if we’re home by four in the morning it will do. Say we take an hour to go home. That means we’ve three hours here to consider things and make a plan and carry it out. So don’t let’s spoil everything by being in too great a hurry. Remember, it’s our lives that are at stake.’

  Brand, feeling that the last thing he could settle to was calm consideration, crushed down his feelings and told King to go ahead.

  ‘The first thing they’ll think of,’ King resumed, ‘will be our motive. They’ve got this secret process and they’ve evidently expected that people might be after it, as they’ve armed their watchman. Therefore they’ll begin by wondering whether whoever killed the watchman was after the process. You see that?’

  ‘Only too well.’

  ‘Next, they’ll ask themselves, Who wants the process? Some other manufacturer of rapid-hardening cement, naturally. What other such is there? Joymount is the only other in the neighbourhood. What about Joymount? You see? I’ve thought about all this because I foresaw—not what has happened—but that we might somehow give ourselves away and have to consider where we stood.’

  Brand moved uneasily. ‘I agree so far. But they couldn’t prove anything. Besides, there’s our alibi.’

  King shook his head. ‘I wonder if you have any idea what a police enquiry is like? The least slip and we’re done for. The ground here is not too hard and it’s a bit damp. If in any one place we’ve left a footprint, it would finish us. If it was someone from Joymount it could only be someone scientific and fairly high up in the concern. They’d probably fix on you and me right away. They would get us to walk across some soft ground by some trick—and there we’d be. You see: it’s practically impossible to do anything without leaving a trace. I mention a footprint only as an example. There are dozens of other ways in which we might give ourselves away.’

  This was about as much as Brand could stand. ‘For goodness’ sake, King, that’s enough. Let’s have what’s for us for a change.’

  ‘There’s much more for us than there is against us,’ King went on. ‘I’ve only mentioned this so that you may agree that all possible precautions are necessary. For us we have the facts that no one else has seen us here: that no one saw us coming: that no one knew we were coming: that so far as we know we have left no traces anywhere. Then besides our own statement, we should have the evidence of our own watchman that we were in the Joymount lab all night, and the evidence of Radcliff and Endicott that we must have been, owing to the work done. We have a good alibi, and it’s particularly good because it’s normal and ordinary and without coincidence. All that’s in our favour.’

  ‘It seems to me complete.’

  ‘It’s not complete by any means. A clever detective could break it down. However, in its way, it’s good. That’s what’s for us.’

  This calm dispassionate discussing of the issues was having its effect on Brand. His first rush of horror and panic was subsiding, and this catalogue of what was ‘for them’ he found definitely reassuring.

  ‘You said you would discuss what was against us, then what was for us, and then what we must do. Have you thought of the last point?’

  King made a grimace. ‘I haven’t, and that’s a fact. I foresaw a good many things that might have happened, but never anything like this. No, you’ll have to keep quiet and let me think. Thank goodness it’s a warm night.’

  For over an hour they sat there in the semi-darkness, till Brand began to feel that unless something happened soon he would get up and scream. Then suddenly, just as he was about to make a move, King stood up.

  ‘Have you thought of a plan?’ he asked sharply.

  Brand admitted that his only plan would be to get away from the works and back to Joymount as soon as possible.

  ‘That’s no good,’ King returned shortly. ‘That means that we’re caught within two days! Now I’ve got a plan. Not a good one, I admit, but better than yours. As you can’t propose an alternative, you’ll have to adopt it. That agreed?’

  ‘Of course, King. What is it?’

  ‘Nothing very pleasant or very easy, I’m afraid. Still, it’s our only hope. In a word, we’ll have to fix things so that it will look as if Clay had disappeared voluntarily. No suggestion that he died here must ever arise. You see?’

  ‘That would be splendid, but how can we do it?’

  ‘I think we can do it. Now first you wait here while I slip into that office for a moment. And while you’re waiting you may think out these two problems. First, how can we most easily get the body to the launch? And second, where can we hide it until tomorrow night? It’ll be my job—with your help—to dispose of it finally: it will be yours to keep it till then. And you needn’t get excited if I don’t turn up for an hour or more. I’ll be back in plenty of time for all we have to do.’

  It was not what Brand wanted, to remain there with that terrible piece of evidence, but King was making himself responsible for their joint safety, and he must do what King asked.

  King vanished silently into the fog and Brand was left alone with the body and his thoughts.

  7

  A Watertight Scheme

  That long hour during which King was working out his scheme had been very trying to Brand. And yet now that King had gone, he realised how much the man’s presence had meant to him. It had been a sort of sheet anchor to keep him from drifting into panic. Now that its restraint was removed, it was all he could do to prevent his nerves from slipping from control. To keep himself in hand he set to work with resolution on the problems King had left him.

  Of the two questions he had to consider, the first seemed to present no difficulty at all. Clay, though a tallish man, was slight. It should be easy to carry the remains to the launch. True there was the getting of them over the wall, but with King and himself, one at each side of the wall, it should be simple enough.

  The second question was more difficult. Assuming they had reached Joymount, what was to be done with the body? It could not be left in the launch: others beside themselves had keys to the boathouse. And the launch could not be left in any place other than the boathouse: no question that it had been out must ever arise. The body would have to be removed from the boathouse, that was clear.

  Brand wished King had been a little more explicit as to his plans. If he had explained how he proposed to get rid of the body, it might have suggested a hiding-place. Was it for instance to be taken by water or overland? By the launch or by car?

  By car? Did not that suggest something?

  He, Brand, had a car, a small Triumph saloon, which he kept in a separate garage, the former harness-room of the boarding-house. He wondered if the garage might be the solution of his problem? No one but himself had a key for it, and once the body was there, he thought it would be safe.

  And there would be no difficulty in getting it there. The ladder and mat had to be carried to King’s workshop in the same yard; the body could be carried also.

  Brand was pleased
with his solutions. If King’s whole scheme was as good as his part of it, they should be all right.

  How he wished King would hurry! He had been gone now for half an hour and it was terribly trying sitting there alone in the fog. Brand wondered what he was doing. Surely not still trying to discover the secret? So far as he, Brand, was concerned, the secret could remain a secret for ever. He hated the very thought of it. Not the secret, but how to get out of their terrible predicament; that was what they must concentrate on.

  Then it occurred to him that they didn’t now want the secret. They couldn’t use it if they had it. If they were to show that they knew it, suspicion would at once be aroused. No doubt its theft would be assumed, and all firms which might profit by it would be watched. No, the secret instead of being an asset to them, would now be a deadly danger.

  What, then, could King be doing? Terribly Brand felt tempted to go in search of him. But he did not know where King was, and he feared he might miss him.

  Suddenly a horrible idea occurred to Brand, only to be banished immediately from his mind. Was King entirely trustworthy? Had he gone off himself, leaving Brand to be caught and to bear the consequences of their joint action? King was a very able fellow and in many ways a good fellow, but Brand had to admit to himself that he had never felt absolute confidence in him. He sometimes wondered what would happen if King’s self-interest were to clash with his duty …

  Then he felt ashamed of himself. He had worked with King for seven years, and King had never once let him down. No, King was doing something for their common good. Of that he was satisfied.

  As if to reward him for his loyalty, the figure of King at that moment materialised through the fog.

  ‘How have you got on?’ Brand asked eagerly.

  ‘Better than I had hoped. Tell you later. We’ve got to get this poor fellow away now and see that we’ve left no traces.’

  ‘Right. I’ve thought it out. There’ll be no difficulty.’