They were still about five miles from the open sea, but approaching a great area of lakes, creeks and islands known as Hansford Water. To their left there were still occasional farms and coppices, but to their right was only an almost trackless waste of marshes. The road was straight, flat and empty; so they could see a considerable way along it, and about two miles out of Thorpe le Soken they sighted a lorry coming towards them. As it came nearer C. B. exclaimed
`By Jove ! I believe this is it. Pull into the centre of the road, John, and signal it to stop.'
As the two vehicles pulled up within a few yards of one another, C. B. got out. A glance showed him that the lorry was empty, but it answered the description he had been given, as did also the small ferret faced man who was the sole occupant of its cabin. Walking up to him, C. B. said:
`Good afternoon. You are Joe Cotton, aren't you?'
`Yes, guvnor.'
`I thought so.' C.B.’s smile was a triumph of candid innocence. `You have done the job quicker than we expected. Canon Copely Syle will be pleased about that, providing you've done it all right. But he is nervous as a cat on hot bricks about the safe delivery of his stuff, so he sent us after you to make certain the big crate had come to no harm.'
Cotton gave C. B. a rather doubtful stare. `Why would 'e do that, when 'e sent the other gent wiv me so as 'e could help wiv the unloading 'isself?'
`Because that crate is very valuable. The Canon wanted confirmation that everything was O.K. as soon as possible.' `Well, I'm giving it you, ain't I?
'All the same, I think you'd better turn round and come with us, so that we can vouch for it to him that we have seen that everything is all right for ourselves.'
`What d'you want me to come wiv you for?' Cotton's close set eyes showed sudden suspicion.
`He told us the road to take; but we are strangers in these parts, and we'll lose a lot of time if we miss our way across the marshes.'
`So that's the lay, is it? You don't know where I bin an' want me ter take yer there. Nothin' doin', guv'nor.'
As Cotton spoke his ferrety face had become taut with something between fear and anger.
C. B, saw that his bluff had failed; but he showed no resentment. As he had nothing on the man he decided that bullying him would get him nowhere; so he shrugged and said with a smile
`You're a fly one, Cotton. It didn't take you long to see through me, did it? Still, there's no harm done, and I've private reasons for wanting to know where you delivered that crate. How about a tenner to take us near enough to point out the house; and we won't let on afterwards that it was you who put us wise?'
`Not for ten quid, nor for twenty,' came the prompt reply. `I ain't done nothin' wrong; but, all the same, I ain't tellin' no tales.'
Starting up his engine, Cotton swung one wheel of his lorry on to the grass verge, scraped past the car and drove off down the road.
`Blast the fellow!' exclaimed John angrily. `That's the second trick we've lost to day.'
`We didn't lose it altogether,' C. B. murmured more philosophically. `When a man like that says “I ain't done nothin' wrong”, you can be quite certain that he has. He wouldn't have refused a tenner without a good reason, either, and a suspicion that we might be connected with the police.'
`Even if he knew what the crate contained, there is nothing illegal in delivering it to a house.'
`No. You noticed, though, that the woman in Thorpele Soken, who put us on his trail, was right about there having been two men in the cabin of the lorry when it passed her. Any guess who the other was?'
'Upson?' said John, after a second.
C. B. nodded. `Any guess where the crate has got to?' `Hell's bells!' John exclaimed. `They've put it aboard that blasted seaplane.'
`Well done, Watson! You see now why friend Cotton was too scared to take a bribe to say where he had offloaded it. Seeing Upson's aircraft moored in some quiet creek miles from anywhere would have told him that it had come down there to evade the authorities, and he would know darn' well that to help load anything into it that had not been passed by the Customs was a serious offence.'
`Of course! But let's get on. We may be able to find the seaplane and stop it before it takes off.'
`Not much hope of that, I'm afraid. This group of creeks covers an area more than twice the size of Birmingham, and Cotton was over two hours ahead of us; so he may have taken the crate to a stretch of water miles from here.'
`What filthy luck!' Exasperation made John almost spit with rage. `Then that swinish Canon has got the best of us again! He's put it out of our power to get hold of his homunculus and destroy it, anyhow for the next twentyfour hours. What a cunning move to have Upson fly it out to the Riviera, then bring it back in time for the ceremony, with Christina if they get her. But let's pray to God they won't. The only bright spot so far to day has been finding that he is still here, instead of having gone to France to work his filthy spells on her jailers.'
`That is one thing that has been puzzling me,' C. B. said as he got back into the car. `The creation of fully functioning homunculi is Copely Syle's life work; so you can be certain that up to the very last moment he will strive to seize this chance of pulling it off. When I told him that Christina was in prison he immediately decided that he must go out there, and he changed his mind only when I persuaded him that I could do the necessary for him. His discovery that I was an impostor ruled that out; so why hasn't he gone himself? I can't believe for one second that he's chucked his hand in.'
`No; but think of the work involved in getting that private hell of his cleared up in anticipation of a possible visit. It must have taken him all night and probably well into the morning to burn or bury all his animals and those awful deformed creatures he created. Obviously his first concern would be with that and getting his prize homunculus out of danger.'
`That's true; and it gives me a nasty thought. As he was so fully occupied himself he may have decided to get somebody else to do what I offered to do for him. Since he is head of a coven he might have got in touch with one of his pals during the night. If so, they could have gone up to London first thing this morning and caught an aircraft from Northolt to Nice.'
John groaned. `I never thought of that. If you're right, and they caught the earliest one, they will be in Nice by now.'
`It's a possibility; so we can't ignore it, although I think it would take a pretty high grade Black to use effectively what amounts to hypnotism at a distance on several people he has never seen, with only their soiled garments as a medium. Anyway, we still have a choice of strong cards left. Earlier on you were arguing that we could save Christina by depriving the Canon of his homunculus. That is true, of course, but not the best way of expressing the core of the matter. To put it in a nutshell, we win out on the big issue if we can prevent any one of those three factors from joining up with the other two for the next thirty six hours. Our object in trying to get a summons against the Canon was to keep him from going to Nice. We failed to get the summons; but as it turns out he has remained here of his own accord. The homunculus will be brought back here, and possibly Christina. By keeping a watch on the Canon we should be able to cut in at the last moment and prevent their reaching him. Alternatively, by making full speed for London, we can still get on a Paris plane and be in Nice late this evening. We could then get Malouet to try to find out where Uison has brought his seaplane down, with the object of destroying the homunculus; and, should we fail in that, we might anyhow lend a hand in preventing Christina from being whisked out of prison. My own feeling is that our chances are pretty good either way; but this is really your party, John; so I'm going to leave the choice to you.'
After a moment's thought, John said, `It will be dark before we can get to Nice; so if Copely Syle has sent a brother wizard down there, he may get Christina out before we arrive on the scene; and Malouet's chances of finding out at short notice where Upson comes down seems pretty problematical. Of course, that is taking the worst view. All the same, a bird in the hand is worth two in the