Back Aa

Charing Cross Mystery

Close

<h3> CHAPTER XIX </h3> <h4> THE LONDON ROAD </h4> Some fifty minutes later, the big, powerful car, which Penteney had commissioned in Kingsway, dashed up to Riversreade Court. Hetherwick found that there had been no exaggeration in Lady Riversreade's telephone message. She herself came hurrying out to meet them; there were men standing about the terrace outside and others visible in the park; a couple of uniformed policemen followed Lady Riversreade from her study, where Hetherwick supposed her to have been in consultation with them. And her first glance was directed on Hetherwick himself; she addressed him before Penteney could go through any hurried introduction. "I've seen you before!" she exclaimed abruptly. "You were with my secretary, Miss Featherstone, at Victoria, Sunday morning. Are you engaged to her?" "No!" replied Hetherwick. "But we are close friends." "Well, Miss Featherstone's been run away with—and so has my sister, Madame Listorelle," continued Lady Riversreade. "That's the long and short of it! You seemed almost incredulous when I rang you up," she continued, turning to Penteney, "but there's no doubt about it—they've been kidnapped, under my very windows. And we haven't a single clue, a trace of any sort." "So far, you mean," answered Penteney coolly. "But come—but let me hear all about it. What are the details?" "Details!" exclaimed Lady Riversreade. "We don't know any details! All I know is this—my sister came here from Hampshire yesterday evening, to stay a few days. This morning, after we had breakfasted, she and Miss Featherstone set out across the park for the Home, leaving me here—I meant to follow in a few minutes. I did follow!—I wasn't ten minutes behind them. But when I got to the Home, they weren't there, and Mitchell, the man at the door, said they hadn't come. They didn't come! Eventually, I came back here, to find out if something had happened and they'd returned by some other way. But they weren't here. Then I began to make some inquiry. One of the housemaids, who'd been looking out of a top window, said she'd seen a car go at a great rate down the middle drive in the direction of the high road soon after Madame Listorelle and Miss Featherstone left the house. And of course there's no doubt about it—they've been carried off in that! This is more work of that man Baseverie's!" "You said something over the 'phone about strange men being seen in the car," remarked Penteney. "Oh, that?—yes, the same girl said she thought she could see two men sitting in the car," answered Lady Riversreade. "Of course they'd be strange." Penteney turned to the policemen, at the same time tapping Hetherwick's arm. "I think we'd better go across the park and see for ourselves if there are any signs of a struggle at any particular place," he said. "I don't think either Madame Listorelle or Miss Featherstone likely persons to be carried off without making a fight for it. Have you been across the grounds yet?" he added, to the elder of the two men. "I mean by the path they took?" "Not yet, sir; we've only just arrived," answered the man. "Come along, then," said Penteney. He lingered a moment as Hetherwick and the policemen left the hall, and said a few words to Lady Riversreade; then he hurried out and headed his party. "This way," he continued, leading Hetherwick along the terrace, "I know the usual route to the Home—plain sailing from here to there, except at one spot, and there, I conclude, whatever has happened did happen!" Hetherwick paid particular attention to the route along which Penteney led his party. The path went straight across the park, from the end of the terrace at the Court to near the front entrance of the Home, and from the Court itself it looked as if there was no break in it. But about half-way between the two houses there was an important break which could not be seen until pedestrians were close upon it. Transecting the park from its southern to its northern boundaries was a sunk roadway—the middle drive to which Lady Riversreade had referred—gained from the park above, on each side, by ornamental steps. Whatever happened in that roadway, Hetherwick saw at once, could not have been seen from the higher ground above, save by anyone close to its edge. But two or three hundred yards or so from the steps, which made a continuation of the path, the embankments of the sunk road flattened out into the lower stretches of the park, and there the road itself could be seen from the top windows of the Court, and from those of the Home also. Penteney paused at the top of the ornamental steps. "If these two ladies have been carried off, as they certainly seem to have been," he said, turning to his companions, "this is the spot! Now, just let me explain the lie of the land. The main road edges the park at the northern end, as you all know. But there is a good road at the southern extremity, and the sunk road runs down from it. A car could come down from there, be pulled up here, and kept waiting until the two ladies came along. They would have to descend these steps, cross the road, and ascend the steps on the other bank to get to the other half of the park. Now suppose they're forced into a car at the foot of the steps—the car goes off for the main road and gets clear away within a minute or two of the kidnapping taking place! There's the difficulty! The thing would be easy to do—granted force. Probably, the two captives were forced into the car at the point of revolvers." "That's about it, sir!" agreed the elder of the policemen. "No choice in the matter, poor things! And, as you say, they'd be in and off—miles off—before they fairly knew what had happened." "Come down and let's see the roadway," said Penteney. But there was nothing to see at the foot of the steps. The road, like all roads and paths on the Riversreade Court property, was in a perfect state of repair, and there was scarcely a grain of dust on its spick-and-span, artificially treated and smoothed surface; certainly there were no signs of any struggle. "That's how it's been, you may depend upon it," observed Penteney to Hetherwick as they looked about. "The men were waiting here with revolvers. They'd force them into the car and get in after them; a third man, an accomplice, would drive off. If only we had some more definite information about the car and its occupants!" "There's an old chap coming down the road who seems to have his eye on us," remarked Hetherwick, looking round. "He may have something to tell. After all, some of the people hereabouts must have seen the car!" The old man, evidently a labourer, came nearer, looking inquiringly from one to the other. He had the air of one who can tell something on occasion. "Be you gentlemen a-enquirin' about a moty-car what was round here this mornin'?" he asked, as he came up. "I hear there was somebody a-askin' questions that way, so I just come down-along, like." "We are," answered Penteney. "Do you know anything?" The old man pointed up the sunk road to a part of the park where it was lost amongst trees and coppices. "Lives up there, I do," he said. "My cottage, it be just behind they trees, t'other side o' the road what this here runs into; my garden, it runs down to the edge o' that road. And when I was a-gardenin' this morning—mebbe 'bout half-past-nine o'clock, that was—I sees a moty-car what come along from your way, and turns into this here sunk road. Mebbe that's what you're a-talkin' 'bout?" "No doubt," agreed Penteney. "And we're much obliged to you. Now what sort of a car was it? Closed, or open?" "Oh, 'twas closed up, same as one o' they old cabs what us don't see no more now," said the old man. "But I see inside it, for all that. Two gentlemen." "Two gentlemen, eh?" repeated Penteney. "Just so. And a driver outside, of course." "Oh, aye; there was a driver outside, to be sure. In livery, he was—like a gentleman's servant. Smart feller!" "Could you describe the gentlemen?" "No, surely—two gentlemen, though; a-sitting back, I sees 'em! And sees the moty-car, too, turn down this here very road." "What sort of car was it?" inquired Penteney. "What colour was it painted?" "Well, now, you beats me! It med be a sort o' greyish colour—or again, it med be a sort o' yaller, lightish yaller, or it med be drabbish—I couldn' 'zac'ly go to for say what it was, proper. But a lightish colour." "Lightish—grey, yellow, or drab—something of that sort?" "Surely! Her wasn't a dark 'un, anyhow. But the feller what drove, now he were in a dark livery—I took partic'lar notice of he, 'cause he was so smart as never was. Green! that was his colour, and gold lace. Looked like a duke, he did! And I thought, hearin' as there was them in the park as was inquirin', like, as 'ow I'd come and tell 'ee." Penteney rewarded the informant with some silver, and turned to his companions with a shake of the head. "A light-coloured car with two men in it, driven by a man who wore a dark-green livery with gold lace on it!" he remarked. "That's about all we're likely to get. And—if this has been a carefully-planned affair, the chauffeur would change his livery before they'd gone far—slip another coat on! However——" They went back to the Court, consulting together; obviously, there was nothing to do but to send out inquiries in the surrounding country. Penteney was sceptical about the success of these. "When one considers the thousands of cars to be seen in any given area during one morning," he said, "how can one expect that anybody, even rustics, should give special attention to any particular one? There's no doubt about it—they've got clean away!" It seemed as if nothing could be done but to give the kidnapping full publicity through the police and the press. In the neighbourhood of the Court nobody beyond the housemaid and the old cottager appeared to have seen the car and its occupants. But during the afternoon, as Hetherwick and Penteney were about to set out for London, a man came to the house and asked to see Lady Riversreade. Lady Riversreade went out to him; the two men accompanied her, and found at the hall door an elderly, respectable-looking fellow who had driven up in a light cart. He had heard, he said, of what had happened at Riversreade Court that morning, and he believed he could tell something, for he was sure that he had seen a car, such as that the police were inquiring after, pass his house. "And where is that?" asked Lady Riversreade. "About two miles the other side of Dorking, my lady, on the London Road. I'm a market gardener—name of Thomas Chillam. And I was outside my garden gate this morning, about, as near as I can reckon, ten o'clock, when I saw a car, light-coloured, coming from Dorking, at a particularly high speed—a good deal faster than it had any right to do! I watched it careful, my lady. But just as it got near to my place, there was a man drove some sheep out of a by-lane, a few yards past my garden and the car was obliged to slow down. And so I saw the folks in it." "Yes?" said Lady Riversreade. "And—who was in it?" "There was a couple of men, my lady, on the front seat, and a couple of ladies in the back. Of course, it was a closed car, but I saw 'em, plain enough, all four. It seemed to me as if they were all either quarrelling or having high words—they were all talking together, anyway. But though the car had slowed down 'cause of the sheep, it was still moving at a fair pace, and, of course, they were past and gone, London way, in a minute, as it were. All the same, I saw 'em clearly enough to see that one of the men inside was a man I've seen before." "About here?" exclaimed Lady Riversreade. "No, my lady," answered Chillam. "In London. It's this way, my lady—me and my missis, we've a grown-up daughter what's in service in London—Grosvenor Gardens. Now and again we go up to see her, and stop a night or two close by. And of course we take a look round. Now I've seen that man two or three times about Victoria Station way—I knew him at once when I saw him this morning, and——" "Just tell us what he's like, will you?" interrupted Penteney. "As near as you can." "Well, sir, I ain't good at that, but he's a tall, good-looking, smart-dressed gentleman, with a beard and moustache—taller nor what you and that other gentleman is, sir. I seen him in Victoria Street—mebbe it was his height made me notice him." "And you're sure that was the man you saw in the car this morning?" "Make no doubt on it, sir! I'm as certain as that I see yourself. Oh, yes!" Hetherwick put in a question. "The second man in the car? Did you notice him? Can you remember him?" Chillam reflected for awhile. "I remember that he was a white-faced chap," he said at last. "Wore a top-hat, silk." When Chillam had gone away, Hetherwick turned to his companions. "That sounds like Ambrose, for one man, and Baseverie for the other," he said. "What devilry are they up to now? Penteney—we must get back to London!" <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2