'Well? Master's out.'
'Yes, I know,' said Hamish. 'He's in trouble. He ran down two girls-well, anyway, he tried to run them down.'
'What of it?'
'Nothing. I just thought I'd mention it, that's all.'
'Oh? Oh, well, perhaps you'll wait a minute. I'll see if the mistress can see you.'
But an interview of this sort was beyond Hamish's scope. As soon as she had gone, he unhitched the pony, mounted it, and galloped away. His subsequent adventures had no particular history. He rode back to the hotel. Laura walked beside him to the stables, paid for his outing and took him back to the hotel for tea.
That evening, just as she was going up to get ready for dinner. Dame Beatrice was called to the telephone. It was the Superintendent at the other end.
'Mr Campden-Towne called us up,' he said, 'to report an accident. He says two girls were run down somewhere near here. He doesn't know where, but says that the number of his car was given in error and that he knows nothing about it.'
'Shades of Hamish!' said Dame Beatrice, who had received a concise and truthful account of his outing from the boy.
'I beg your pardon, ma'am?'
'Come over this evening at about half-past eight, if you can. I may have some news for you.'
'It would help a good deal if you have. I don't mind saying that we're getting browned-off with house-to-house questioning. We no longer suspect Mr Richardson, but can't get on to much else. There's no doubt Campden-Towne and his wife were represented by the Maidston couple at that London hotel, and I've questioned them again, but nothing seems to come of it. Campden-Towne says he made the booking but couldn't keep it, and so sent the Maidstons. Using a false name isn't a criminal offence in itself. There's got to be a crime connected with it.'
'I should have thought there were two crimes connected with it,' said Dame Beatrice.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGALS
'Upon my word, a very well-looking house; antique but creditable.'
Oliver Goldsmith
'Things begin to add up, ma'am,' said the Superintendent. 'Following your call, we got the addresses of the two young ladies you mentioned and I sent a uniformed officer to see them. They have asked for police protection.'
'I hardly think they need it, Superintendent, now that the fact of attempted murder is out.'
'What about this young Master Gavin, who seems to have set the cat among the pigeons?'
'He will be safe enough here. He will not be allowed out alone.'
'Campden-Towne is hardly likely to have a line on him, I suppose, but I think it might be wise to keep an eye lifting. There's been something very fishy going on. If only we knew what it was!'
'I can tell you what I think it was,' said Dame Beatrice. 'It was espionage. I have puzzled over the facts so far as we know them, and the most significant, it seems to me, are that Mr Campden-Towne is in shipping and that he pretended to be in London when, actually, he had passed over his booking to the Maidston couple. Have you discovered where the Campden-Townes did spend the night of the murders?'
'No, ma'am, we have not. We've been to every hotel, guest-house and pub in the Forest and beyond. I've come to the conclusion that they must have been staying at a private house, and, if they were, then a needle in a haystack isn't in the picture, is it?'
'Have you tried Mr Campden-Towne's office in Southampton?'
'No, but it's an idea, especially if the two murdered men were in his pay. But where would his wife have been, if she wasn't at home that night?'
'With him. He must have needed some help in moving the bodies from the car, and she is a well-built, strong creature, is she not?'
'I'd better see her again. I shall never break him down, but she might be more vulnerable.'
'I doubt it, Superintendent. She is quite intelligent, I'd say, and she must realise, surely, that her safety, apart from her livelihood, is completely bound up in that of her husband. Besides, I imagine she is in love with him. Of course, she is entirely under his thumb.'
'But this espionage business. It seems far-fetched to me.'
'It may be far-fetched, but let us take the facts. We know that ponies have disappeared. We know that Colnbrook and Bunt were often out on the Lawn here and on the big common at the end of this road, where there are always ponies grazing. Now I thought at first that the ponies were stolen by night and shipped off from Southampton for what they would fetch abroad, particularly in America, although it seemed a big risk to take for the sums of money involved. Then Laura brought back a book on the New Forest which the young women at the riding-stables had lent her, and when she had finished with it I took it up, out of idle interest. However, I read it with an interest which was anything but idle.'
'But-espionage, ma'am. Aren't we perhaps wandering from the point a bit?'
'By no means, Superintendent. My attention was attracted to some diagrams in the essay entitled The New Forest Commoners. [By Sir Barkeley Piggott.] From it I learned that the four Agisters employed by the Verderers mark the tails of the animals in a manner approved by the Court of Verderers, so that if a stallion (in particular-the mares do not travel or stray so much) wanders from his own part of the Forest, he can be returned when the creatures are rounded up for sale.'
'Yes, I know all that, ma'am. Each district has its own special pattern. Right round the tail for Number One District, one cut out of offside for Number Two, and so on.'
'Exactly. Two cuts out of offside for Number Three and one cut out of nearside for Number Four. Not at all unsightly, not cruel, since only the hair is cut, but distinctive and simple. Well, it seemed to me that, with certain alterations and additions, which, I am afraid, would also involve an extra branding of the animals, a code could be worked out.'
'It sounds fantastic to me, ma'am.'
'Oh, would you say that? I don't see why it should not work with remarkable efficiency. There would be no documents, as such, and no telephone calls. The ponies themselves would be the documents. Much less clumsy than the wartime, "John is well again" and all that kind of thing.'
'But with the same purpose in mind, you think?-a way of sending information to, and about, secret agents? If so, it will have to go beyond me, ma'am. I'd better get the Chief Constable on to it.'
'Let us catch our murderers first. From that the rest will stem.'
'I'd rather have it that way, ma'am. Your idea is most ingenious, I admit, but-well, I don't know. It still seems far-fetched to me. Anyway, I'll get on to Campden-Towne's Southampton office and see what comes of that.'
'Well, I can do no more here, Superintendent, so I shall return home. My address is The Stone House, Wandles Parva. That will always find me, even if I go to London.'
'Many thanks, ma'am,' said the Superintendent, writing it down. 'And thanks for your help. It's started a hare, anyway.'
'You might do worse than bully the Maidstons a bit.'
'Now, ma'am, you mustn't suggest that a police officer ever bullies anybody.'
Dame Beatrice cackled.
'By the way, what about Mr Richardson? I should like to invite him and my nephew to stay with me at the Stone House for a while,' she said.
'I see no objection to that, ma'am. Would you let me know if he leaves your home? We should just like to have knowledge of his whereabouts.'
'I thought you no longer suspected him.'
'Well, that's true enough, but we may need him as a material witness later on.'