Part 4 (1/2)

Suddenly I found myself fully awake. Here and now, if ever in my life, was my chance. Someone had entered the club-room where the corpse of young Rogers lay. Perhaps his object was to steal something from it. Perhaps he meant to remove the body itself. Whatever his plan, he must be prevented and identified. Catching him would probably clear up the whole mystery which faced Beef. And to me had been given the opportunity of actually contributing something to the investigation-

I slipped quietly from my bed, and pulled on a dressing-gown. I wondered whether to put shoes on. Being without them would give one a feeling of unprotectedness, but wearing them would make one's approach noisy. I left them behind, slowly and silently crossed the room, and got safely to the landing. Then I started to go downstairs.

It is not often that the mere chronicler of crime gets a thrill. His work is usually to attend, as unintelligently as possible, the dreary post-mortems, and to listen, without too much ac.u.men, to the elucidation offered by the masters. But during those few minutes I knew all the excitements of the chase. I was about to do my own partand an important part it would be.

My imagination played some curious tricks. Before I opened the door I was prepared to find that the dead had risen, that young Rogers himself had left that rickety sofa and was facing me across the room. I myself had seen his livid face, and touched his stone cold flesh, and knew with absolute security that he was dead. But at three o'clock in the morning, roused from sleep by a noise in the room where his corpse lay, I was prepared to believe anything.

I had my hand on the k.n.o.b of the club-room door, and began, very gently, to turn it. I did not know exactly where the switch of the electric light was, but when I began to push the door open I saw that there would be enough light from the street lamp to see across the room. Suddenly I pushed the door wide open, and looked in.

The lace curtains in front of the window were blowing into the room, and the window was wide open, but no one was in sight. I found the light switch and used it, and the strong electric light failed to reveal any more. On the sofa the corpse seemed undisturbed, and I crossed to it, and pulled back the rug. Young Rogers lay as he had done when we left him. I turned away, feeling rather disturbed.

Only the open window was unusual. I went across to it and looked out on the street. There was no one in sight, and the rain blew angrily in as I stood there. I hurriedly pulled the window down, and slipped the catch across.

Someone had been in the roomthere could be no doubt of it. But who? And with what object? If they had hoped to get something from the dead man's pockets they had been disappointed, for we had emptied these ourselves in the bar. Perhaps they had had some other object in view, and I had disturbed them.

On the whole I thought it best to telephone to Beef. He wouldn't like being disturbed at this hour, but he ought to know what had happened. I went through into the sitting-room where the instrument was, and quietly, so as not to disturb any of the Simmons family, asked for his number.

I could hear the bell ringing for a long time before there was an answer. Then I heard the Sergeant's voice, sounding blurred and resentful. Wha's it? he asked.

Beefthis is Townsend. Someone has just broken into the club-room of the Mitre.

'V'you got 'im?

No.

'Ow d'you know, then?

I heard him from my room upstairs and came down. There was no one here, but the window which overlooks the street was open.

Did Simmons leave it open?

Of course he didn't. You were with him when we brought the corpse in.

That's funny.

I was. tired and irritable. I don't know about its being funny, I said. I don't see much fun in being woken up at this time of night. What are you going to do?

Do? What 'you mean, do?

Well. ...

It wasn't a very lucid conversation. I don't see what I can do. You say 'e's cleared off. What can be done?

I was about to slam down the receiver in disgust when Beef spoke again.

Tell you what, he said, as though he had just had an inspiration, I'll send a constable round. 'E'll look after it. You wait there. ...

And before I could answer, he, and not I, had replaced his receiver.