‘Good. Then let’s get at it.’
They did not, however, cross the wall as Brand had imagined they would. King utterly refused to allow the weight of one of themselves and the body on the ladder at the same time.
‘You ass,’ he said petulantly, ‘the thing’ll break. I designed it to carry one person only. You don’t want to be found here in the morning with the body and a broken leg?’
In the end they tied the body to the rope ladder, and when both of them were on the top of the wall, pulled it up, lowering it outside in the same way.
King was extraordinarily thorough. He would not leave until they had examined with their torches the scene of the tragedy and every other place they had been, lest some trace of their presence should remain. But nowhere could they find any.
The walk along the shore took it out of them, for while one carried the body, the other had to bear the whole of the remaining impedimenta. Fortunately the fog, while still persisting, was much thinner and they were able to find the launch without difficulty. King waded out and brought it in, the body was lifted aboard, and with muffled sculls they rowed due north. Then the engine was started and Brand once again took charge of the navigation.
The clearing of the fog enabled them to see the navigation lights from a reasonable distance. They had no trouble therefore in reaching the Hamble, and by nosing gently along the coast they were able to make out the wharf and so find their way unnoticed into the boathouse.
They left the body in the launch while completing their alibi at the works. As before they climbed up to King’s office, pulled up the rope, came out through the laboratory, said good morning to the watchman, incidentally calling his attention to the time, and then returned to the boathouse. From there with much labour they carried the body and their apparatus to the boarding-house yard, placing the former in the garage and the latter in King’s workshop.
While King agreed that the garage was an excellent hiding place, he had further ideas which puzzled and annoyed Brand. First he insisted on the outer clothes being stripped off the body, a revolting job which nearly made Brand sick. Then he would not allow the body to be laid on the back seat of the car, as Brand had intended. Instead he placed it on the driving seat with its feet on the pedals and its hands on the steering wheel. It had to be propped up in this position, a job which Brand loathed almost as much as the other. But King was not satisfied till an elaborate system of supports had been devised to give it as nearly as possible the position of a man driving the car.
He would not explain what was in his mind, however, merely saying that they had to remember that the remains would stiffen, and that they must therefore be left to stiffen in the proper position for the scheme. ‘Now,’ said King, when at last the horrible business was done, ‘I’ll be away all day. Some things have to be seen to. You keep those two fellows working on at the same experiments. And if you’re talking to Tasker you may give him a hint that things are going all right: no more than that. Then tonight I’ll want you to lend a hand with getting rid of the body.’
‘How are you going to do it?’ Brand asked uneasily.
‘We haven’t time to discuss that now,’ King returned. ‘We must get to bed in case someone in the house notices the time we come in and it is checked up with the watchman’s statement. Now, Brand, listen carefully to what you have to do. Carry on today as if nothing had happened. Then tonight go to bed at the usual time. Ruffle up your bed as if you had slept in it and at once slip into my room. Of course put out your light first and lock the door, taking the key. I’ll either be in my room or I’ll come in shortly. You better hide under the bed in case someone else should go in. You’ll want your rubber gloves and your torch. I should bring two torches if I were you. That all clear?’
‘All clear.’
‘We’ll leave about two. The job should take a couple of hours. Then all our troubles will be over. You’re sure that garage of yours is properly locked?’
‘Positive.’
‘Then see you don’t let the key out of your possession. Oh, and by the way, you should know I’m going to Town early this morning.’
With this Brand had to be content. Letting themselves softly into the boarding-house, they crept on tiptoe to their respective bedrooms.
In spite of his excitement, Brand’s head no sooner touched the pillow than he fell into a dreamless sleep. Nothing is physically more wearisome than mental anxiety, and in addition to that Brand had recently had a lot of night work in the laboratory. He woke refreshed and in a more normal frame of mind, though the horror of his and King’s position still weighed heavily upon him.
He took an early opportunity of seeing Radcliff and Endicott.
‘King won’t be in this morning,’ he told them. ‘He’s gone to Town. He and I came back last night and you see we got the acid reaction finished. He wants you to go on with the second stage of that aluminium salt.’
‘He’s a most desperate swotter, and so are you,’ Endicott returned. ‘How many nights have you been working at that blessed salt?’
‘The whole thing’s nearly done,’ Brand answered. ‘He says he expects to get all he wants in a day or two.’
‘But what does he want?’ Radcliff asked. ‘I never could see that he was getting anywhere with all these experiments. Is it a very profound secret?’
‘No secret at all in a sense,’ declared Brand. ‘I don’t understand it myself, but it’s some idea that he’s got. He thinks he can find a way of cheapening the cement-making process. He put it up to the directors and convinced them to the extent of allowing him to carry on these experiments.’
‘That’s the yarn he told us when we came. I don’t think much of it myself.’
‘What do you mean? You don’t suppose, Radcliff, he’d let you know enough to put two and two together, do you?’
‘Well,’ Endicott shrugged, ‘it’s no business of ours. So long as we’re paid for what we do, that’s all we want. I suppose if he’s nearly finished, that means the end for us?’
‘It was to be a temporary job, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh yes, we’re not grumbling. It’s been interesting enough and the money’s been all right.’
All through the day time dragged terribly for Brand, and as it slowly passed, his nerves grew more and more on edge. He did his utmost to control himself and to act as if nothing abnormal had occurred, but he found it a dreadful strain. However his work kept his mind to some extent occupied and at last he turned homewards from the works.
At dinner he had a shock.
‘Did you hear of the theft at Chayle?’ his neighbour asked, a bank official on sick leave.
‘Theft?’ Brand returned. ‘No. What was that?’
‘It’s in the evening paper. It seems they’ve had a theft in the cement works. About four hundred pounds was stolen from their safe last night.’
A hand seemed to grip Brand’s heart. ‘Good Lord!’ he said, he hoped not tremulously. ‘From their safe? You mean burglars with safe breaking appliances?’
‘No,’ the bank official returned, ‘nothing so exciting as that. The safe was unlocked, not broken open. It seems the night watchman has disappeared too. He must have somehow got hold of a key and taken the money.’
In spite of the need for caution, Brand could not repress a shiver. So this was what King was doing when he left to inspect the offices! No doubt the key of the safe was one of those of which he had obtained mouldings. Evidently that had been his scheme, to remove something valuable, so as to account for the absence of Clay and make it appear it was voluntary. A clever idea, yes: but, stealing money! Oh, how Brand hated the whole thing! It was utterly and absolutely loathsome!
And King should have told him. He should not have allowed such a piece of news to be sprung on him. King was much too—
Brand hastily pulled himself up. He must not fall into a reverie in this way. Already he thought his companion was looking at him strangely.
‘I say,’ he went on,
‘that’s a mysterious business! How on earth could a night watchman get hold of the key of a safe?’
‘So you might say. However, they’ll find him quickly. It seems he’s lame. A lame man could never get away with a job like that.’
‘A fool to try,’ Brand considered.
‘No doubt. Still, you never know what these fellows will do for a bit of money. And four hundred would be a pretty big sum to a man like that.’
‘That’s true.’
Brand thought he did not acquit himself too badly in the ensuing conversation. Talk about the theft became general, belief that the culprit would have a short run for his money being universal. Then to Brand’s overwhelming relief, someone said something about cricket, and the subject dropped.
Later in the evening King came in. In a loudish voice he declined the landlady’s suggestion to serve up dinner, saying he had dined in the train coming down. At this someone said: ‘Been in Town today, King?’ which was evidently what he wanted. He answered that he had been up on some chemical business for the firm, and dilated on the heat in the city.
‘Did you see your neighbours at Chayle have been having excitements?’ said someone else.
‘I saw that,’ King returned in interested tones. ‘Nothing very big though: four hundred, it said.’
Brand marvelled at the natural way in which he spoke. He had had no idea that King was so good an actor. Without the slightest trace of self-consciousness and with just the correct amount of detached interest, King added his remarks to the conversation until presently the subject was changed.
Time crawled slowly on, and at last bedtime came. In his usual way Brand said good night and went up to his room. There he did as King had told him. He ruffled up the bed, turned out the light, locked the door and silently made his way into King’s room. King was not there, but he entered shortly. He saw Brand, nodded, and when Brand would have spoken, put his finger to his lips.
‘Wait till we go out,’ he whispered softly.
Brand watched his preparations with interest. King took from his clothes cupboard the rope ladder which they had used at Chayle. It was now fastened to a crossbar of wood. King opened the window, fixed the bar across it, and let down the ladder. This window overlooked the cobbled yard in which was the garage, which, no doubt, explained King’s choice of his own room rather than Brand’s. Brand’s room was round the corner of the house, looking out in front towards the Hamble, and beneath it was a flower bed of soft earth which would have taken excellent footprints. Having set out the gloves, torches and one or two other appliances, King lay down on his bed. Brand took the only armchair the room contained.
King left the light on for a time which he fixed by his watch, probably, Brand imagined, for the time that he usually read. Then he turned it off, the bed creaked as if he was settling down to sleep, and silence followed. It was not till a torch shone out that he saw King seating himself on a chair in the window.
Once again time dragged in the most dreadful way. Again and again Brand thought his watch had stopped. But always he found the hands had moved infinitesimally since the last time he had looked at them. He was still horribly upset at the idea of the theft. This was quite deliberate evil-doing which nothing could excuse. It was quite different from the theft of the process, if they had been able to accomplish that. That somehow was, or could be conceived of as being, all in the way of business. But to steal four hundred pounds of actual money was an entirely different proposition. The very idea was hateful.
And there was also its hideous consequence. This poor Clay had been an honest man. Now by their action he was branded a thief. It was utterly abominable. Of course in a way no one would be hurt. As King had said, the man himself was dead and he had no relatives. Still Brand felt that to have blackened the character of a dead man was a thing which would always weigh on his mind.
And yet from his own point of view, nothing better could have been done. This plan of King’s would certainly do what it was intended to—it had done it already. The man was gone—and no suspicion of murder had been raised. Granted that the rest of the horrible affair could be carried out as efficiently, no suspicion of murder should ever be raised. And if so, no suspicion would ever fall on them …
After incredible ages King made a move. Quarter to two showed on Brand’s watch when a torch shone out. Then taking the gloves and torches, first Brand and then King swung themselves out of the window and carefully climbed down to the yard.
Once again the weather suited them. Tonight also the sky was heavily overcast, and while in the diffused moonlight they could see their way about, their figures were not too obvious should anyone chance to look out. They landed on the cobbles and silently crossed the yard.
‘We’ve got to get out that car without it being known,’ said King. ‘If we push it a hundred yards along the road, no one’ll hear it starting up.’
Noiselessly they let themselves into the garage. As King had foretold, rigor mortis had set in, and they had some difficulty in moving the stiffened body from before the wheel to the adjoining front seat. A more difficult and much more horrible job was re-clothing it in its own garments, which King had brought, tied up into a bundle. However, the revolting work was done at last and they pushed the car down the road, out of earshot of the house. King produced a large scale map of the district.
‘Do you see this road leading from Southampton through Swaythling to Fair Oak? Now just there,’ he pointed, ‘a little farm road comes in. I want you to drive there now. You can go through Bursledon and by Thornhill Park in the direction of Swaythling, turning left before you come to the Itchen. I’ll go with you as far as Bursledon, where I’ll pick up a car I hid there during the afternoon and follow you to the farm road.’
‘Then you weren’t in Town?’ Brand asked in surprise.
‘Of course not: I was fixing up for tonight. But never mind that now. If you’re sure of the way, go ahead.’
‘I know the road,’ Brand returned. ‘I’ve driven over it several times.’
‘Right.’
King got into the back and Brand, with his awful passenger beside him, started the engine. In a moment he was able to slip in the clutch and they moved off. He drove in silence for a time, then he could bear his thoughts no longer.
‘I say, King,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘what about that four hundred pounds?’
King leaned foward. ‘I know, Brand. I see it’s distressing you. Well, I may tell you I absolutely hated it, but what could I do? It was the only way out. It didn’t hurt Clay himself, and he has no living relatives. All the same I loathed it. But you see it has worked.’
‘It was a hideous thing to have to do.’
‘I know. But it was that or us. Nothing but a theft of money would have accounted for the man going. But don’t let’s talk of it now. Time enough when we’re out of the wood.’
Brand felt slightly comforted by King’s expressions of regret, though he realised that his feeling was irrational, as these did not in any way alter the facts. He wished King would be less secretive as to his plans. Brand shrewdly suspected that his silence was due to distrust of himself: that King wished him to be so completely committed to the undertaking before he knew its details, that he would be unable to withdraw if later he wished to do so.
Presently they passed Bursledon, and on a deserted stretch of road King got out.
‘I’ll follow you at once,’ he said. ‘I hid the car in an old sandpit. When you get to the farm road just pull up and wait for me.’ With a nod he vanished and Brand once again let in his clutch.
That drive was the most terrible Brand had ever taken. Though he could scarcely see it, he was all the time profoundly conscious of the silent form at his elbow. Owing to the stiffening, the figure sat up on the seat as if it were alive, but occasionally when the car lurched it swung over against Brand. When he had pushed it back three or four times he was in such a condition of nerves that he could have screamed. His mind also was full of
dread lest for some reason he should be stopped. If for instance some smash-and-grab raid had taken place in Southampton or elsewhere, the police would stop and examine all cars. How he wished he had insisted on the figure being placed on the back seat and covered with a rug, as he had suggested. But King had not agreed to this, saying that if by some unlikely chance he should be stopped, such a rug-covered object would inevitably be examined, while the body on the front seat might in the dark be taken for a living passenger. Brand had given way, but now he bitterly regretted it.
However the drive was accomplished without incident. In due course he reached the rendezvous. Brand pulled in to the side, switched off his headlights, and settled down to wait. It occurred to him that he must account for his stop, and he had just decided to get out and open the bonnet, when King arrived.
He was driving an old and battered Austin Seven, which he manœuvred close to the edge of the road, just ahead of Brand. Immediately he jumped out.
‘Turn the car, Brand, and park behind me,’ he said in a low voice, ‘and switch out your lights. This is a very deserted road and we’ll take the risk of no one passing.’
Brand turned the car to head south and backed towards the Austin, King motioning him on till the two cars were almost touching.
‘Now we’ve got to get the body into the Austin and sitting at the wheel. It’ll be a bit of a squeeze, but it should be possible. Come on, Brand: we’re nearly through.’
This proved another dreadful and horribly difficult job. However at last it was accomplished. Brand’s forehead was running sweat when they had done.
‘Now the notes and the key of the safe into the pockets and I think we’re ready.’
King took a roll from his breast pocket and thrust it into that worn by the body, then he put a key into the trousers’ pocket.
‘That’s all, I think.’ He stood for a moment buried in thought. ‘No, by Jove! I was just going to make a mistake.’
As he spoke he lifted a tin of petrol from the back of the Austin and put it into the Triumph. ‘That’s all at last. Now for our great effort.’
Mystery on Southampton Water Page 8