The Greatest Murder Mysteries - Dorothy Fielding Collection. Dorothy Fielding

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      Pointer signed to Watts to open the trunk. Leaving him to guard the prisoner, the Chief Inspector himself searched it. One of the first things he picked up was a London telephone directory; after that came a list of Paris bankers. Just the literature to expect from a man of "Green's" reputation. He ran his fingers among the clothes. His practiced tips encountered something in the lining of a coat. He drew it out, made a slit, and, inserting a finger, brought out a long string of pearls with an antique emerald fastening. He laid it beside him without a word. Carter had risen from his chair and was watching intently. When the pearls lay on the table he made a curious gesture with his hands, and, sinking back on to his chair, covered his face, which had turned livid. Pointer went on methodically. Several rings, a diamond necklace, and a jeweled pendant were discovered. Finally the trunk was turned upside down, and on the very bottom he pounced on a twist of newspaper. Inside were a few screws. The two officers examined them closely, then the Chief Inspector took out an envelope and fastened them carefully inside.

      "Any explanation you wish to offer, Carter? I have cautioned you already?"

      Carter shook his head.

      The police finished their work, and in silence, arm in arm, like the best of friends, the three walked to the station in plenty of time to catch the Calais express. Pointer left Mr. Beale and Watts to sit beside Carter in the reserved compartment Mr. Beale had ordered, and went off to have a cup of coffee. A man selling postcards approached him and saluted with an odd little jerk. The Englishman glanced over his wares and picked out two. "Can you put them in an envelope for me?"

      "But yes, monsieur, but yes," and the man slipped the cards into one and passed on. Outside the café the Chief Inspector drew out a sheet of thin paper. It was a record of Mr. Beale's movements from the time he left Carter's room. "X went from Rue Sentier to the post. Sent telegram to 'M. Garnier, Notaire, Rue Bizet, Genève': 'Series accepted. Editor.' After that, X lounged the time away till he joined you at the station."

      Pointer wired to Geneva for full particulars as to M. Garnier, and took his seat in the train. Carter would be tried first in London for the murder of Erskine, and, if acquitted, would be sent to Canada to stand his trial there for embezzlement and, doubtless, robbery. The young man seemed quite conscious of his position. For the most part he sat with his eyes closed, only the tense look of his jaw and the pulse hammering in his temples showing that he was not asleep. As for Mr. Beale, Pointer would have gladly dispensed with his company, for there was a gloating triumph in the American's whole attitude which seemed to the police-officer positively indecent.

      Back at the Yard, where he reported at once to the Assistant-Commissioner, he found a cable identifying the photographs of both Robert Erskine and John Carter as that of the two men, respectively, who were wanted under a warrant taken out in New York by the President of the Amalgamated Silk Mills, a huge concern which practically held a monopoly of the silk spinning and weaving industry. Defalcations extending over many years were spoken of, and cooked balance-sheets, but up to the present the exact amount supposed to have been taken by the Toronto manager and his assistant was not known.

      The Chief Inspector filed the information, and made his way to his rooms, where, as he hoped, he found another cable, a private one from a friend of his in the Canadian police. It was in answer to a long cable from himself asking him to find out all he could about the warrant for Erskine and Carter. Pointer raised his eyes at its length. Wright was absolutely reckless of expense when he wanted to be clear. The cable read:

      We must stand well with Yank police because of coming Burton affair. Warrant issued New York on Heilbronner's sworn deposition. Heilbronner millionaire chairman of Amalg. Spotty reputation. Warrant gives no facts. Can. police passive. If Carter arrested by Yanks or you, and sent here, proofs of defalcations, etc., will be demanded before Can. police hand him over.

      The Burton affair, as Pointer knew, concerned a murderer who had escaped into the United States and was very much "wanted" in his home. So, like the robberies in which Carter, as Green, was supposed to be implicated, there were no actual proofs of embezzlement made public. Pointer had very little to say that night even to O'Connor, and early next morning visited Carter in his cell. The Canadian had refused as yet to see a lawyer. The long vacation was on, and his case could not come up till the autumn. He seemed sunk in depression. And the case against him was certainly black enough. The screws found in his trunk were the mates of those which fixed the screwed-on panels to the wardrobe. He gave no explanation of them. He gave no explanation of anything, not even of the jewelery, which was to be identified by a couple of American detectives who were coming over on purpose. The Heads at the Yard were quite certain of his guilt on both counts, murder and theft, but the Chief Inspector said as little as possible. He had asked the Canadian to at least help him to trace what might have been wrapped up by Erskine in that strip of green and white paper, but after a second's flash of hope in the accused's sombre eyes he had shaken his head and refused to speak.

      Pointer had no sympathy whatever with this kind of an attitude. He considered it not fair to the accused and not fair to the police. It was all very well for his superiors to be so certain of Carter's guilt. When the case came up for trial it was he and not they who would have to pay for any mistake, and apart from this personal consideration, the Chief Inspector had a high standard of fair play, and the idea that he might be a party to injustice was intolerable to him. Not that he by any means thought Carter innocent. As the Canadian would not give any alibi, he apparently had had the opportunity to commit the murder. The will was considered to be an additional motive, besides wanting to get rid of an inconvenient accomplice, but what had Erskine to leave? Mr. Russell had not been able to trace any "available" funds. Yet the dead man would hardly have alluded to a stolen hoard without giving any indications as to where such a hoard might be found.

      "And where does Beale come in, and what of the manager, whose back garden you've been digging up so carefully?" O'Connor demanded rhetorically one night, after enduring his friend's silence as long as he could.

      "The manager—humph! Mr. Beale?—He certainly must have a very strong feeling against Carter. Yet he looks the last man to let his feelings alone carry him very far. And why is he so keen on seeing Carter? He makes every sort of an effort to get an order. I think he was amazed when he found out that even a letter from his ambassador wouldn't be of any use if Carter refused to see him, and refuse he does. You know, O'Connor, I'd give a good deal to place Mr. Beale in all this."

      "You surprise me!" murmured the Irishman sarcastically.

      "What gain is it of his if Carter is hung or locked up in jail? I've tried to get to the bottom of his game—for that he's playing one I'm still as certain as ever, but I can't find a hook to hang anything on. I've had report after report about him from America. He seems to be beyond suspicion. He is on the board of that Silk Company which owned Erskine's Toronto Mills, but that doesn't throw any light on his feeling towards Carter."

      "Didn't he say that he had his knife into him because of some family jewels Carter had stolen?"

      "He did. Mr. Beale always has an explanation for anything. Why doesn't he write to Carter if he's so keen on seeing him? He won't. Of course, he may be quite straight in all this. That telegram of his to Geneva, now—the man he sent it to is one of the most respected solicitors in the town. I've absolutely nothing to go on—"

      "What about Watts' idea that the crime might be political?"

      Pointer shook his head. "Not a shred of evidence to bear that out. Quite the other way. Well, I'm thinking of taking my holiday, which is due this month, abroad. I shouldn't wonder if it led me to Geneva and home by way of Nice."

      "Do you think you could pick up anything there?"

      "Doubtful. Still, I like to cover the whole ground."

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