'That's all very well, young man, but if they're criminals, as you say, they might murder us both in our beds one night.'
'No, no! Their business is smuggling silks and other dutiable goods over from France and I feel certain that they won't do you the least harm. There's another point too, if you leave at once you'll be out of a job again, whereas if you're prepared to stay on and give us your help I think I can promise we'll be able to find a comfortable billet in a decent family for you, when it's all over, through the police organisation.'
Mrs. Bird considered for a moment. 'It'd be a big load off my mind if you could. All right, I'll stay then.'
'Splendid.' The Inspector stood up. 'Well now, I haven't got a search warrant but since you're going to give us your help you won't mind if I have an unofficial look round the house, will you? I just might spot something which would be useful to us later on.'
Mrs. Bird nodded agreement, but Gregory shrugged. 'As they only use this place for secret landings, and never stay here more than an hour or two, I doubt if you'll find anything of interest. Anyhow, I'm going to leave you to it and get back to London. Poor old Rudd looks as though he could do with an hour or two's sleep.'
Rudd yawned. 'You've said it, sir, but you're looking fresh as a daisy yourself. How you manage to keep going at times like this has always bin a poser ter me.'
Wells came out to see them on their way and accompanied them through the shrubbery at the side of the house round to its front. It was past four o'clock and in the faint light of the early summer dawn the coppices and broad meadows of the park now showed up clearly. To their left, from a group of trees a few hundred yards away, a turret rose, crowned by an openwork steel spire which looked like a small replica of the Eiffel Tower or a wireless mast, adding an extra fifty feet to its height. On the fringe of another group of trees, a little nearer, to their right, they could now see a big wooden shed.
Gregory jerked his head towards it. 'That's the hangar where they house the plane. Having all those trees "behind it explains why I failed to spot it last night.'
'They've certainly got the very place for their job here,' Wells commented. 'That steel mast above the tower must be visible for miles. It's perfect for a signal light to bring in other planes that don't know the lie of the land.'
'Well, what does A. do now?' asked Gregory, preparing to move off.
The young Inspector laughed. He was in high good humour as a result of his night's work. 'A., being you, calls at the Carlton tomorrow and endeavours to make contact with B., the lady in the case. It looks like more than even chances she's staying there again and I daren't go near the place. She'd flit at the bare sight of me, knowing now that I'm a policeman, while C, being myself, returns to dull routine, sending a junior here to keep in touch with Mrs. Bird and the Park under observation.'
'Right, then. So long, Inspector.' Gregory turned away with Rudd beside him and set off down the east drive towards the field where he had left his plane.
Wells went back into the house and his inspection of it soon assured him that Gregory's view had been correct. It was only used as a port of call from which Lord Gavin and his associates came and went without arousing the suspicions of the residents in Birchington. No papers which might throw further light upon the conspiracy seemed to be kept there. The drawers of all the desks and bureaux were unlocked and empty and there was no safe in the house.
The two tall windowless buildings behind the conservatories to the west, which Gregory had thought might be squash or tennis courts, proved to be the Museum holding the magnificent collection of Major Powell Cotton, the absent owner of the estate. Vast cases, occupying in some instances the fall length of the walls and twenty feet or more in height, contained jungle scenes where the great stuffed beasts, elephant, rhino, sable antelope, baboon, kudu, giraffe, and countless other varieties of wild beasts were mounted in lifelike postures, plunging through tall grass or wallowing in muddy streams, so that they could be seen in all the splendour of their natural habitation.
On other walls of the buildings were ranged smaller cases containing native costumes and weapons, the grotesque masks, of African witch doctors, collections of fearsome looking beetles and a thousand other items of interest, brought from every corner of Africa, India and Tibet by the great hunter.
As Wells could make no further move of importance in his investigation until he learned whether Gregory had managed to get in touch with Sabine, he saw no necessity to hurry back to London, so he spent over an hour admiring the great beasts and studying the curiosities in the smaller cases. It was half past six before he got back to Mrs. Bird's kitchen again and with her he found Milly.
The girl had been woken early by the crunch of his feet on the gravel under her window an hour before. Looking out and seeing a strange man in the grounds she had rushed to tell her foster mother who told her of the surprising events which had happened during the night.
Milly was dressed now in a light blue summer frock that enhanced the blue of her eyes and set off to perfection her delicate colouring and golden hair. When Wells was introduced she was agog with excitement at meeting a real detective from Scotland Yard.
Mrs. Bird, who was cooking breakfast for the girl, suggested that the Inspector could do with another cup of tea before he left and that, while she was getting it ready, the pair of them should go out and pick some fresh raspberries in the garden.
Nothing loath, the Inspector left the house again with Milly and she took him along a path behind the Museum buildings to a big walled garden.
She seemed a shy young creature and he found himself unaccountably tongue-tied, although he had an inward desire to start a conversation which might prolong the pleasure of being with her alone in the great garden, now made more lovely by the hush of the early summer morning.
'Your work must be awfully interesting,' she said at last.
'Rather,' said Gerry Wells. 'I've been lucky, too. I'm the youngest Inspector that's ever been seconded to the Special Branch.'
'You must be very clever then,' she said shyly.
He found himself blushing as he met the candid gaze of her large admiring eyes. 'Oh, no,' he hastened to protest, 'lucky that's all. I did quite well at school though, managed to get a scholarship and, as a matter of fact, I owe a great deal to my dad. He was a mechanic in the R.A.F. in the Great War. Now, he's a clever fellow if you like; so good at his job they kept him on afterwards in the technical department where the new planes are designed. He taught me all I know about engines and how to fly when I was quite a boy. That's one of the things that's led to my promotion because, you see, we haven't got a great many pilots in the force, but nowadays we have to move with the times and flying comes in useful.'
'It must be wonderful to fly,' she murmured.
'Take you up sometime,' said Gerry, 'that's if you'd care to go.'
'I've always thought I'd be frightened to fly but I wouldn't be frightened with you. If you'd like to take me.'
A happy grin spread over his freckled boyish face. 'That's a date then, although I may not be able to take you up for a bit yet, not till this business is over.'
'Is it a very dangerous business?'
'Well, perhaps you might say so in a way, but I've seen a good few rough houses in the last ten years and I can look after myself fairly well. Three crooks set on me a few nights ago over in Trouville but I managed to get away.' The Inspector felt a twinge of conscience as he failed to mention Gregory's assistance; but he refrained from doing so from the very human desire to impress the girl.