Mystery on Southampton Water

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  This, delivered in a grave and almost menacing tone, had its desired effect. Brand paled and looked alarmed.

  ‘What does that mean, Chief-Inspector?’ he asked nervously. ‘It doesn’t mean that you’re going to—to—arrest me?’

  ‘I haven’t said anything about arrest,’ French returned. ‘You may be able to satisfy the Superintendent and myself, in which case no harm is done. But, subject to the official warning which it was my duty to give you, we should like to get some explanations of certain matters from you.’

  French had wanted to make the man uneasy and he had certainly succeeded. That he had some evil secret on his conscience, French was more than ever convinced.

  ‘I’ll tell you anything I can,’ Brand declared, a trifle unsteadily. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘We want to know,’ said French sternly, ‘if you would care to make a statement as to your part in the murder of Messrs Haviland and Mairs?’

  Brand’s face changed. A look of absolute horror appeared in his eyes. He stared, apparently rendered motionless by distress aad fear. The three police officers watched him without speaking.

  ‘Murder!’ he gasped. ‘You don’t say they were murdered?’ He swore brokenly.

  It was not put on, the surprise. At least so French thought. And yet it was not altogether surprise either. Brand looked as if a blow had fallen which he had already feared. The silence began to run into minutes. Drops of sweat appeared on the man’s forehead. He made no attempt to wipe them away. At last he went on, in a voice which had suddenly grown husky.

  ‘I didn’t know it was murder,’ he declared shakily. ‘I swear I didn’t! I swear it!’

  ‘Well,’ said French, ‘we want your statement—subject to my warning. If it’s your statement that you know nothing about it, that will be taken down and we’ll ask you to sign it. But I may as well say that we shall not be satisfied unless we get a lot more information than that. We should want a detailed account of your actions throughout the whole business, from the original theft of the Chayle process right up to the present time.’

  From Brand’s start and look of absolute consternation, French saw that he had got home. It was the original affair, the theft of the secret, and possibly the murder of Clay, in which the man had been involved. French felt sure he knew nothing about the later crime.

  ‘As you know,’ French went on, ‘the theft of the process is a serious matter, because of the murder of Clay. And all that faking of the car accident is also very serious. We don’t want to force your confidence, Mr Brand, but I suggest you would be well advised to tell what you know. Now we don’t want to take you at a disadvantage. Would you like some time to think it over?’

  The man looked so driven and worried that French felt sorry for him, though he did not allow this to appear in his face. Brand made several attempts to speak, without success. Then at last he murmured that he had nothing to say.

  French slapped his notebook shut. ‘Think it over, Mr Brand. Don’t make a stupid mistake which may do you more harm than good. Think it over.’ He turned to Carter. ‘Show Mr Brand to a room where he can think this matter over.’

  Carter rose, and tapping the witness on the shoulder, motioned him to follow. Without another word both men disappeared from the room, Brand walking as if in a dream.

  ‘He’s mixed up in the theft, but innocent of the launch affair. What do you think, Super?’ said French, when the door closed.

  ‘That’s my idea, too,’ Goodwilly answered. ‘How long shall we keep him, French, if he won’t speak?’

  ‘He’ll speak all right. There’s nothing he wants so much, and he’ll not be able to resist his own desire. He’ll see he’s done for about the theft, but he’ll think that doesn’t matter compared with a possible charge of murder. Send him some dinner and we’ll have him in again about nine o’clock.’

  When Brand was brought in about nine, he attempted to bluster. He wanted to be released at once. If not, he wanted to know was he arrested, and in this case he would like to see the warrant.

  ‘You’re not arrested, Mr Brand,’ French answered coolly. ‘You’re what is technically known as “detained”. We should like to avoid arresting you, but we can’t let you go until this matter is cleared up. You must see that for yourself.’

  ‘If I make a statement will you let me go?’

  ‘I can’t promise that, sir. If you can satisfy the Superintendent and myself that you are not guilty of these crimes, yes. If not, no.’

  ‘Well, my hotel people must be told I’m here.’

  ‘Yes, sir, that’s reasonable. We’ll send any message you wish. You needn’t say you’re here unless you like.’

  At his prisoner’s request French telephoned that Mr Brand was staying over in Southampton until further notice.

  Brand would not, however, make any statement. French expected him to demand the presence of a solicitor, but he didn’t do this either. After a short interview he was led away and locked up for the night.

  Next day it was the same. French saw him in the not uncomfortable room in which he had slept, and once again suggested that he might care to make a statement. But Brand shook his head.

  ‘Well,’ said French, ‘there’s a bell, and if you want to see the Super or myself, all you’ve got to do is to ring it.’

  All that day matters remained in the same condition. Brand still wouldn’t speak. French was getting very worried about the case. He had gone just about as far as he could. It would not be possible to hold the man longer than another night. Though the ‘reasonable time’ during which a suspect could be detained often went up to as much as a week, that was usually while his statements were being tested. French could not use detention as a sort of mental third degree.

  However next morning his doubts were dissolved, and his opinion justified. Brand evidently could not face another day. He sent word that he wished to make a statement.

  ‘I think you’re wise, Mr Brand,’ French assured him when they were once again seated in Goodwilly’s room. ‘The truth seldom does anyone any harm.’

  ‘Not if they’ve not broken the law, Chief-Inspector,’ Brand returned. ‘As a matter of fact I have come within measurable distance of breaking it, though not really with evil intentions. I’m going to tell you about it, because I’m absolutely innocent of murder or serious crime, and I want you to believe that.’

  ‘We’ll give your statement the most careful consideration. It will be taken down and you can read it over before signing it, so as to make sure it is correct. Now, sir, will you go ahead.’

  Brand began at the beginning. He told his hearers about the financial condition of the Joymount Works and the fear that they would have to close down, involving loss of employment for all those connected with it. Then he described their finding that Chayle was underselling them and getting their trade, followed by King’s investigation and the discovery that Chayle were putting out a new cement. He recounted King’s efforts to deduce the process, his failure, the temptation to visit the Chayle Works and learn the secret by observation, as usual stressing the fact that they did not wish to injure Chayle, but only to save themselves from ruin. He told his story in a convincing way, and French hadn’t the slightest doubt that he was listening to the truth.

  He remained convinced of Brand’s truthfulness even when the latter reached the point at which Clay was killed. Whether it was murder or manslaughter in the eyes of the law, French believed that the deed had not been intentional. And though French knew that the young men should instantly have reported the occurrence to the police, he could well understand the reasons which prompted them to hide it.

  Brand gave the whole history of the disposal of the body, so far as he knew it. He did not try to put more responsibility on King than he took on himself, though stating that the idea was King’s. He convinced his hearers that he had loathed and feared the whole operation, but that he had joined in it for the simple reason that he did not think his statement would be bel
ieved, and to get rid of the body as they had done, was better than being charged with murder.

  Except to ask an occasional question, French did not interrupt the narrative. It was all coming out just as he had expected it would. Indeed he was somewhat surprised to find how close to the truth had been his surmises.

  Brand then went on to tell about Chayle’s discovery of the theft of the secret, and their resultant proposals, which, he pointed out, amounted to practical blackmail. He told in detail of the negotiations between the two firms, leading up to the agreement which was initialled on the night of the explosion. He admitted that after the launch disaster both the Joymount men and Samson had kept back the fact that a second sheet had been included in the agreement, explaining the reason.

  To the very end French believed the statement. Brand had weakly allowed himself to be made a party to theft, but French did not think he was guilty of murder. He spoke aside to Goodwilly.

  ‘According to your own statement, Mr Brand,’ he said, when at last Goodwilly had nodded agreement, ‘you’re guilty of complicity in a theft. Whether you’ll be charged with that or not I can’t say at present, and we shall have to detain you till the question is settled.’ He hesitated, then his good nature got the better of his caution, and he added: ‘While I can’t bind myself, I may say, for your comfort, that it is not at present our intention to charge you with murder.’

  His mind somewhat relieved, Brand was taken back to his room.

  23

  French Gets Help from the Enemy

  With the details of Brand’s confession added to the proofs he already had in his possession, French felt that the arrest of King and Tasker could no longer be delayed. He put the point to Goodwilly.

  ‘Certainly, Chief-Inspector,’ the Super agreed, ‘I don’t see what else we can do. I think we should go out there tonight and bring them in.’

  ‘And what about Brand?’

  Goodwilly shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to say about him,’ he admitted. ‘I rather incline to the view that if we get those other two for the launch murder, we might drop the Clay case. As to the theft, if Chayle won’t prosecute, as I’m sure they won’t, I question if the charge would be proceeded with.’

  ‘That’s my idea also,’ French returned. ‘I think we’ll have to hold him till the Public Prosecutor is consulted, but I expect the charge will be dropped in the end.’

  This was certainly to be a red-letter day in the case. While Goodwilly was obtaining warrants for the arrest of Tasker and King, another of the lines of research French had initiated, produced unexpected but highly gratifying results.

  The Superintendent at Portsmouth rang up to say that he had traced the sale of the cyclometer. One of his men, in going round the cycle shops in a comparatively poor quarter of the town, had found a salesman who remembered selling one of the kind described. He remembered the transaction, because the purchaser had seemed somewhat more well-to-do than most of his customers. The man had explained that he had promised a cyclometer to his little son, who had recently been given a new bicycle. The customer was a middle aged man, very well dressed, with a clean shaven and slightly foxy face, and the salesman would recognise him if he saw him again. The constable had reported to headquarters, and having obtained a copy of the Joymount group, he had returned to the shop and asked the salesman if it contained his customer. Without hesitation the man had picked out Tasker, saying he would swear to him anywhere.

  This seemed to French the best news that he had yet received. To have obtained proof that King had bought the cyclometer would have been good; but to find that Tasker had done so was many times better. That King was guilty French could already prove, but he had not been convinced that the gramophone episode was sufficient evidence against Tasker. This new discovery just supplied the deficiency.

  Admittedly there was still no proof that the cyclometer sold to Tasker was the one found in the launch. But if it were shown that Tasker’s son was grown up and did not possess a bicycle, as French believed could be done, Tasker would be hard put to it to explain the purchase.

  That night, separately and without knowledge of one another’s predicament, Tasker and King were arrested and brought to Southampton. After being charged, they were cautioned and asked if they wished to make a statement. Tasker said that except for formally stating his innocence, he had nothing to say until he had had an opportunity of consulting his solicitor. King however raged at the officers and swore he could prove his innocence and would there and then answer any questions they liked to put. But French said that, as it was late, they would postpone the discussion until the following morning and King, protesting volubly, was removed to the cells.

  It was not, however, because it was late that French declined to hear King. Frequently after an evening arrest interrogations lasted through the whole night. French wanted to be prepared: he wanted first to search the man’s rooms and examine his papers. He much regretted the need for this, as he feared that King’s desire to talk would have cooled after a few hours’ detention, but of the two evils it seemed the lesser.

  Next day French and Carter made a detailed search of both King’s and Tasker’s rooms, with the result that a good many papers and documents were transferred to Southampton. These French set himself to go through. Till late in the evening he studied his catch without result, then at last, as he was rather despairingly looking over the firm’s order book, a sudden idea occurred to him and he remained motionless, lost in thought.

  There were a number of items for machinery. He wondered what they were. If they were for the ordinary work of the firm, he was no further on. But if they were for new plant to work the process, he rather thought he had got King. Slowly a smile of somewhat unhappy satisfaction twisted his features. He wanted to get his man, but he hated the final stages of the process.

  Presently he got up and went across the passage to Goodwilly’s room. The Superintendent was, as it happened, working late on another case.

  ‘What about having King in now, Super?’ French suggested. ‘I’ve been through his papers, and if he wants to make a statement we ought to hear it.’

  Goodwilly agreed and the simple scene was set. French, Goodwilly and Carter sat down at one side of a table in the Super’s room, while a chair was set for King at the other. Then the prisoner was brought in.

  ‘Last night, Mr King,’ French began, ‘you said you wished to make a statement on this matter, and that you could answer any questions that you were asked. Last night you were not unnaturally somewhat upset, and tonight you may have thought over things and be of a different mind. We should like to know whether you still wish to make the statement and be questioned?’

  ‘Yes,’ King answered truculently, ‘I can clear myself and I don’t see why I shouldn’t be let.’

  French nodded gravely. ‘It is my duty to warn you once again that what you say will be taken down and may be given in evidence. Also that you needn’t speak unless you like. Is it still your wish to do so?’

  ‘Of course it is,’ King retorted. ‘I don’t want to stay here longer than I need, and I take it that if I explain everything you can’t hold me.’

  ‘If you give a satisfactory explanation of the facts and convince the Super and myself that you are innocent, we won’t want to hold you, but you must remember that you may do the opposite.’

  King laughed scornfully ‘Not I, Chief-Inspector. Go ahead.’

  ‘Very well, sir; we’ll hear your statement. I don’t wish to influence you, but I suggest you give us an account of this whole affair, from your point of view, from the beginning up till the present time. By the beginning, I mean when it was first discovered that the Joymount profits were going down.’

  This businesslike speech seemed somewhat to sober King. He thought for some moments, then began to speak.

  His story, at least in the earlier stages, was identical with that of Brand’s. He told of the losses of Joymount and of his instructions to investigate the position. He expl
ained how he had tested the Chayle cement and found that it was a new product, which must therefore have been produced by a new process. He stated that the board had instructed him to try to discover the process, ending up by declaring that he had done so.

  ‘You did so?’ said French. ‘How did you manage that, Mr King?’

  ‘By hard work,’ King returned. ‘I made experiment after experiment till I got it.’

  ‘Chemical experiments?’

  ‘Yes. First I analysed the Chayle stuff and found its composition. That was easy. It contained some unusual ingredients. Then I devised methods to put the same ingredients into our cement. That was difficult, but I managed it at last.’

  ‘Now,’ said French, ‘that’s the first point on which you’ll have to convince us. It has been suggested, you know, that you went to the Chayle Works and copied the process from a document in a safe in Mr Haviland’s office.’

  King put on an expression of injured innocence. ‘That’s an absolute fabrication,’ he said indignantly. ‘Nothing of the kind! The whole thing was worked out in the Joymount lab.’

  ‘Well, but can you prove that?’ French went on. ‘How are we to know that you really did carry out such experiments?’

  ‘I have a record of them in my safe at Joymount.’

  French pointed to a side table. ‘We brought up some of your papers today. Just look if it is among them?’

  King ran quickly through the pile and abstracted some sheets clipped together. ‘This is it,’ he declared, handing the bundle over.

  French took the papers and made a show of examining them. Then he shrugged. ‘Unfortunately,’ he pointed out, ‘I’m not a chemist. How can you prove that you carried out these experiments and that they produced the result that you say?’