Part 42 (2/2)

”The meeting of a weasel and a badger suggests a sporting interview,”

remarked Jervis. ”But you don't expect Jellicoe to give himself away, do you?”

”He can hardly do that, seeing that there is nothing to give away. But I think he may make a statement. There were some exceptional circ.u.mstances, I feel sure.”

”How long have you known that the body was in the Museum?” I asked.

”About thirty or forty seconds longer than you have, I should say.”

”Do you mean,” I exclaimed, ”that you didn't know until the negative was developed?”

”My dear fellow,” he replied, ”do you suppose that, if I had had certain knowledge where the body was, I should have allowed that n.o.ble girl to go on dragging out a lingering agony of suspense that I could have cut short in a moment? Or that I should have made these humbugging pretences of scientific experiments if a more dignified course had been open to me?”

”As to the experiments,” said Jervis, ”Norbury could hardly have refused if you had taken him into your confidence.”

”Indeed he could, and probably would. My 'confidence' would have involved a charge of murder against a highly respectable gentleman who was well known to him. He would probably have referred me to the police, and then what could I have done? I had plenty of suspicions, but not a single solid fact.”

Our discussion was here interrupted by hurried footsteps on the stairs and a thundering rat-tat on our knocker.

As Jervis opened the door, Inspector Badger burst into the room in a highly excited state.

”What is all this, Doctor Thornd.y.k.e?” he asked. ”I see you've sworn an information against Mr. Jellicoe, and I have a warrant to arrest him; but before anything is done I think it right to tell you that we have more evidence than is generally known pointing to quite a different quarter.”

”Derived from Mr. Jellicoe's information,” said Thornd.y.k.e. ”But the fact is that I have just examined and identified the body at the British Museum, where it was deposited by Mr. Jellicoe. I don't say that he murdered John Bellingham--though that is what the appearances suggest--but I do say that he will have to account for his secret disposal of the body.”

Inspector Badger was thunderstruck. Also he was visibly annoyed. The salt which Mr. Jellicoe had so adroitly sprinkled on the constabulary tail appeared to develop irritating properties, for when Thornd.y.k.e had given him a brief outline of the facts he stuck his hands in his pockets and exclaimed gloomily:

”Well, I'm hanged! And to think of all the time and trouble I've spent on those d.a.m.ned bones! I suppose they were just a plant?”

”Don't let us disparage them,” said Thornd.y.k.e. ”They have played a useful part. They represent the inevitable mistake that every criminal makes sooner or later. The murderer will always do a little too much. If he would only lie low and let well alone, the detective might whistle for a clue. But it is time we were starting.”

”Are we all going?” asked the inspector, looking at me in particular with no very gracious recognition.

”We will all come with you,” said Thornd.y.k.e; ”but you will, naturally, make the arrest in the way that seems best to you.”

”It's a regular procession,” grumbled the inspector; but he made no more definite objection, and we started forth on our quest.

The distance from the Temple to Lincoln's Inn is not great. In five minutes we were at the gateway in Chancery Lane, and a couple of minutes later saw us gathered round the threshold of the stately old house in New Square.

”Seems to be a light in the first floor front,” said Badger. ”You'd better move away before I ring the bell.”

But the precaution was unnecessary. As the inspector advanced to the bell-pull a head was thrust out of the open window immediately above the street door.

”Who are you?” inquired the owner of the head in a voice which I recognised as that of Mr. Jellicoe.

”I am Inspector Badger, of the Criminal Investigation Department. I wish to see Mr. Arthur Jellicoe.”

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