The Eames-Erskine Case (Musaicum Vintage Mysteries). Dorothy Fielding

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      CHAPTER II

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      POINTER liked to be up with the lark though he spent his time somewhat differently. It was barely six o'clock next morning when he took himself to the Marvel Hotel.

      "Look here, Gay"—the Detective Inspector was well-known to the booking-clerk, who had a brother at the Yard—"strictly between ourselves, there's some trouble in a balcony room next door. Something's missing. Who have you got in your rooms that open on to the same balcony?"

      The clerk ran a finger up his register.

      "Number two left early this morning, the rest are still abed I take it."

      Pointer swung the book around. Number two was registered to a James Cox of Birmingham. Profession—Medical student.

      "At what hour did he leave?"

      "About four."

      "Room empty?" asked the other quickly. "Good, I'll go up and have a look at it." Reaching for the key, he was half-way up the stairs before the clerk had finished his nod.

      Pointer found the room still untouched by the chambermaid, and he locked the door behind him with an air of relief. The bed had not been slept in. On the corner of the table lay a wax vesta, the counterpart of the ones already reposing in the Detective Inspector's black bag.

      The linoleum in front of the French window showed where muddy boots had walked up and down. Both the length of the stride and the size of the marks spoke for a tall man. On the balcony outside, the rain had washed away all chance of tracks on the stone, but on the waist-high grating, which was all that separated the rooms of the Marvel from those of the Enterprise, were a few small mud-clots close in by the wall, and under the shelter of the iron roof. Room number fourteen was nearest to the Marvel, and in front of its window even the rain had not been able to remove all traces of the muddy feet which had apparently stood first on one side and then on the other, as though a man had been trying to peer in through the blind.

      Looking in, Pointer saw Watts talking to Miller, who had been left on duty in the room all night. Yet even so, those tracks on the balcony could not have been made many hours before the rain stopped. Someone had walked from one window to the other after he and Watts had left the place.

      He tapped on the pane, and Watts joined him outside. He had already seen the marks.

      "And look there, sir," he pointed to a sodden heap of canvas, apparently an awning, which, judging by its appearance, must have lain for months between the windows of number fourteen and number twelve of the Enterprise. There were a couple of deep indentations on it, one beside the other. Pointer took out the sheet of tracings he had made yesterday at the door leading out into the street from the service-stairs. He and Watts tried them carefully. They could have been made by the same feet.

      "Smallish feet. They just fit Miller, sir, as I was pointing out to him when you tapped," observed Watts facetiously, and the two Scotland Yard men stepped into the room where Miller was waiting to make his report. He had been dozing in the easy chair when he had heard a couple of light taps on the pane. Very carefully he had pushed the blind aside and looked out. Instantly a torch was flashed in his eyes, blinding him. When he got the window open, no one was to be seen.

      "Of course, I couldn't hear anything, sir. You know what the wind was like, though the rain had pretty fair stopped by them. It was exactly twenty minutes past three o'clock."

      "Did you get any idea of who held the torch?"

      "Only that he was a big chap, sir. Big as you."

      "Did you see anyone on the opposite side of the window?"

      "No, sir."

      "Could you have seen anyone there?"

      The detective was positive that he could and would, as he had looked up and down the balcony, which was fairly well lit by the street lights. He had not tried to investigate further, as his orders had been not to leave the room.

      On the balcony outside, the Chief Inspector stood for a second by the heap of canvas. "Just run the blind down inside there, and turn on the light."

      After a moment Pointer tapped, as a signal that the window was to be opened again. "You can see better into the room from the other side—the side nearest the Marvel."

      "You think it was someone from the Enterprise, sir, who wanted to be sure of getting back unnoticed?"

      "Looks that way."

      "You don't think that two men could have been out there together, sir?"

      Pointer did not reply as he stepped into the room again, and sent Miller off for breakfast and sleep.

      "Now, about that morphia taken. Of course we shall know for certain in the morning, but I take it that there's no doubt but that it was morphia all right. It's an odd thing that we couldn't find any cup or glass from which the stuff was drunk. From what the doctor said as to the amount, it's not likely that Eames could have washed up after his drink, nor can СКАЧАТЬ