The Spirit Murder Mystery (6 page)

A few villagers with time on their hands for adventure soon appeared, but were sternly ordered not to leave the highway. With the habitual regard for authority characteristic of countrymen, they gathered together in a group and tried to elicit some information from Mr. Ephraim Noy, who, calmly smoking his pipe, had taken up his position on a five-barred gate leading into a meadow opposite Cobbler's Corner.

Mr. Ephraim Noy, they discovered, was a man of few words. He told them briefly that he had found the two bodies, lying in their present positions, as he crossed the Corner on his way into Yarham, an hour or so previously. He refused to discuss the matter further. It wasn't his business, and he plainly hinted that it was theirs in a much less degree. Leaving him perched on the gate, calmly observant but uncommunicative, they fell to discussing the tragedy among themselves. In this occupation, somewhat arid at the moment owing to meagreness of detail, they were quietly engaged, when Constable Godbold returned in company with Doctor Cornard. 

Godbold at once relieved Vereker of his command and thanked him, adding that the sergeant and inspector would arrive later, accompanied by an official with his photographic equipment. Feeling that the proceedings were now in order, and that the weight of responsibility was slowly but smoothly moving from his own broad but diffident shoulders to those of his superiors, Godbold's face had resumed its habitual expression of official dignity and smug competence.

Vereker, having chatted for a few minutes with Doctor Cornard, whose acquaintance he had made shortly after his arrival in Yarham, decided to return to the village inn for breakfast. He was hungry. Besides, he was well aware that, not being acquainted with Sergeant Pawsey or Inspector Winter, he would have little chance of acquiring any further information about the tragedy than his own sharp eyes had already given him.

“Good morning, Doctor,” he said as he picked up his bicycle, which was lying on the grass at the roadside.

“You're not going, Vereker?” asked the doctor, who had just glanced at the bodies and satisfied himself that life was extinct. “I thought you said you were interested in detective work.”

“So I am, but not as a mere onlooker. I've seen all I want to see at present, but I'd like to have a chat with you later, strictly
sub rosa
of course.”

“Come in any evening. I have a meal at seven o'clock sharp; I can't call it dinner. You'll be welcome. The padre was telling me about your fame as an amateur sleuth, and I'd like to hear your views.”

Thanking him for his proffered hospitality, Vereker mounted his machine and left the strange little group of people that had gathered and stood curious and expectant at Cobbler's Corner.

On his way back to the inn, his thoughts were actively engaged on the subject of Miss Eileen Thurlow, John Thurlow's niece. She was the first person he would like to see and question, but he was conscious of the difficulties attendant on such a delicate task. She would certainly be interrogated later by the police, an unpleasant enough experience for a young woman, possibly prostrate with grief, without the preliminary intervention of one whom she might consider a meddlesome stranger, or a hustling newspaper correspondent. Chance, however, was to smooth his oath in an unexpected manner, for as he ran into the outskirts of the village, whom should he encounter but the Rev. William Sturgeon.

James Sturgeon, son of the rector, had been a college friend of Vereker's, and his father on hearing of Vereker's arrival in Yarham had soon made himself known. On now recognizing Vereker, he at once hailed him and asked him where he had been sketching during the morning.

“I haven't been sketching, Padre,” replied Vereker. “I've just been to Cobbler's Corner on a much more exciting business.”

“So you've heard all about it. When I received the news this morning, my thoughts immediately turned to you. If there's anything mysterious about this affair, I said to myself, young Vereker will soon be up to his neck in the game of detection, instead of getting on with his work. Tell me, what do you think of it?”

“I can tell you nothing yet beyond the fact that I think it's a murder, perhaps a double murder. I've merely glanced at the bodies and the scene of the crime.”

“Terrible, very terrible! I'm now on my way to Old Hall Farm to see Miss Thurlow about the whole affair and offer what consolation I can. Why not accompany me? She's a very charming young lady. I'm sure you'll like her, and perhaps you'll learn something to help you in your work of investigation, if such is going to be necessary in the case.”

“I should like to see and speak to Miss Thurlow very much, Rector, and was just wondering how I could get round to her diplomatically.”

“Then I'm the very man you want. Can you come along now?”

“Certainly. I hope Miss Thurlow will be able to see us. She may be too upset.”

“She's a young woman of great force of character, Vereker. She'll not take this blow lying down. If my judgment of her is correct, she'll be very much on the spot and eager to help clear up the terrible affair. Let's waste no more time.”

With these words, the Rev. William Sturgeon looked at the bicycle on which Vereker was leaning as he stood talking.

“D'you think you could give me a lift, if I stand on the mounting step?” he asked. “I was only a light weight when I was at college, and no one could put on weight in a living like Yarham.”

“It's a borrowed bicycle,” remarked Vereker dubiously.

“Then you needn't hesitate!” exclaimed the rector with the prodigious laugh that he always reserved for his own jokes.

A few minutes later, Benjamin Easy's disreputable bicycle was coasting down the hill towards Old Hall Farm, Vereker grimly steadying it, and the Rev. William Sturgeon standing on the step of the back axle, with an almost seraphic smile on his face and his coat tails fluttering gaily in the morning breeze.

On arriving at Old Hall Farm, the Rev. William Sturgeon and Vereker found Eileen Thurlow about to set out for Cobbler's Corner in her uncle's car. Though ostensibly suffering from the shock which the recent news had inflicted on her, she was completely in command of herself, and there was an air of resolution about her whole bearing. That fortitude was shaken considerably by the rector's words of sympathy and condolence, and tears rose to her eyes in spite of her determined effort to suppress them. She soon recovered her composure, however, and, treating the rector as a trusted friend, she briefly narrated everything that had occurred at Old Hall Farm, pertinent to the disaster which had overtaken her relative.

Vereker had been introduced to her as the well- known artist and amateur detective, and during her narration, she almost unconsciously addressed herself to him, as if desirous of helping him in every way in his task of investigating the case. On mentioning the subject of the spirit manifestation which she believed to have occurred on the night previous to her uncle's disappearance, she was particularly pleased at Vereker's very patient hearing and sympathetic questions about the details of that singular experiment; the more so, because the Rev. Sturgeon clearly showed his strong disapproval.

“I warned you, Eileen, to have nothing to do with this cult of spiritualism. It's a very dangerous cult in my opinion,” he had interrupted.

A little later, she departed for Cobbler's Corner, escorted by the Rev. Sturgeon, after giving Vereker a very cordial invitation to call on her at Old Hall Farm at any time, should he wish to consult her about any-thing connected with the mysterious tragedy. Thanking her sincerely, and congratulating himself on his ability to attain access to Old Hall Farm and probe further into Miss Thurlow's strange story of the spirit manifestation, Vereker took his departure and returned to his rooms at “The Walnut Tree.”

To say that he was beginning to be interested in the new case that had so unexpectedly thrust itself upon him, would be to understate the effect that it had on his restlessly inquisitive mind. He was filled with an excitement which manifested itself in the rapid and preoccupied manner in which he paced up and down his sitting-room in the inn, when alone and surveying the various details already known to him.

His thoughts reverted to Miss Eileen Thurlow. Susceptible, as an artist, to feminine beauty, he admitted to himself that she was a very attractive young woman. Apart from her physical charms, there was something very engaging in the distinction and frankness of her mind. From fear of the general ridicule which any reference to the supernatural arouses in matter-of-fact, ordinary people, she might have been excused if she had omitted to mention the subject of the experiment in spiritualism which had prefaced the unaccountable disappearance of her uncle. She had described it very clearly and courageously in her determination to be explicit and comprehensive. On this controversial topic Vereker was very much in sympathy with her. He had always been interested in occult phenomena, and had gradually passed from a state of obstinate scepticism thereof to an admission of agnosticism. Lack of conversion, his spiritualistic friends had often assured him, was due to his habit of weighing evidence from a purely material point of view and to his almost hostile inquisitiveness. These characteristics had rendered him an unfavourable participant in any séance, and had led him eventually to drop his investigations into the phenomena altogether. The sudden resurgence of the subject of spirit manifestation in connection with a case of murder at once revived all his interest, and he felt that he was on the fringe of one of the most exciting experiences of his career.

He recalled to his mind the appearance of many of the mediums whose stances he had attended, and at once recognized the peculiar mystical aspect of Eileen Thurlow's eyes. They were to him a distinctive feature of the genuine psychic. However ordinary the general appearance and deportment of the mediums he had encountered, they had invariably possessed that strange, detached look in the eyes, a look suggestive of seeing through outward forms to some hidden reality beyond. Then he suddenly realized that he was anticipating matters. Perhaps this strange experience of Eileen Thurlow's on the night of the disappearance of her uncle had nothing whatever to do with the tragedy that had followed. The violent deaths of John Thurlow and Clarry Martin might resolve themselves into one of the complicated murder mysteries which had engaged his detective powers on so many previous occasions. He must be patient and await developments without forming theories on insufficient data.

The next two days he spent in a state of restless impatience, listening to the various and contradictory stories of the case as retailed to him by his acquaintances in the village. On the morning of the third day, his friend Manuel Ricardo wrote to him, saying that his visit to Yarham must be postponed, owing to unforeseen circumstances and that Gertie Wentworth certainly came under that category. He added that Vereker's investigator's outfit had been forwarded by L.N.E.R., and had been replenished with an extra electric torch, three batteries, and twopence worth of gum arabic. These had been purchased out of his own money, as Albert had refused to advance more than one pound without a confirmatory note from his employer. He affirmed that he would do his utmost to put in an appearance at Yarham before the murder quest reached the stage of a pitched battle with sub-machine guns. The letter, one of Ricardo's habitually flippant effusions, concluded with the important news that the services of Scotland Yard had been called in to deal with the Yarham murder mystery, and that Inspector Heather, who had been detailed to take charge of investigations on their behalf, had rung up the flat and was on his way to the village.

This final piece of information at once mollified Vereker's annoyance with Ricardo's irrelevancies, and removed his sense of exasperation at his own forced inactivity. He felt that he would now be able to take an active part in this new battle against the forces of crime, and renew the old and exciting rivalry that accompanied his former investigations in conjunction with his friend Heather of the Yard.

During this waiting for developments, Vereker had refrained from taking advantage of the invitation he had received from Miss Thurlow, but he had called on Doctor Cornard and discussed the case very thoroughly with him. He had also been kept in touch with the local police movements by his friend, Constable Godbold, under a promise of the strictest secrecy.

Vereker had just thrust Ricardo's letter in his pocket, when a railway van arrived with the case containing his investigator's equipment. As he was about to take possession of this case, a police car suddenly ran into the cobbled square in front of “The Walnut Tree” Inn, and Inspector Heather stepped out. After an appreciative glance at the quaint architecture and beautiful setting of the old tavern, the inspector advanced towards Vereker with an expression of mock gravity on his round good-natured face.

“This is not playing the game, Mr. Vereker. You've got a long start of me this time.”

“I need it. Since our last duel, they've added the Hendon College to help you out of your little difficulties.”

“You mean ‘The Brain Box'? Well, we'll say we start equal then. What's the beer like in ‘The Walnut Tree?'”

“There's no bad beer in Suffolk.”

“Dear me, and yet they call it Silly Suffolk.”

“The word in its old sense meant blessed or fortunate, Heather.”

“Then it still holds good. I'm getting hungry. What's for lunch?” 

“Cold lunch to-day. Have you ever tasted a haslet?”

“Never. I hope it's not a cocktail.”

“No. I believe it's made of pork. But let's go in for lunch and you can sample a Suffolk haslet. Over it we can discuss this affair at Cobbler's Corner.”

The two men entered the inn, and when lunch had been served and they were alone, Heather at once brought the conversation to the business on which they were both engaged.