Part 40 (1/2)
”I didn't require that a.s.surance,” Willis went on. ”It is sufficient that you understand the gravity of the situation. Well, after the inquest I set to work,” and he briefly related the story of his investigations in London and in Hull, his discoveries at Ferriby, his proof that Archer was the actual murderer, the details of the smuggling organization and, finally, his suspicion that the other members of the syndicate were privy to Mr. Coburn's death, together with his failure to prove it.
His two listeners heard him with eager attention, in which interest in his story was mingled with admiration of his achievement.
”So Hilliard was right about the brandy after all!” Merriman exclaimed.
”He deserves some credit for that. I think he believed in it all the time, in spite of our conclusion that we had proved it impossible. By Jove! How you can be had!”
Willis turned to him.
”Don't be disappointed about your part in it, sir,” he advised. ”I consider that you and Mr. Hilliard did uncommonly well. I may tell you that I thought so much of your work that I checked nothing of what you had done.”
Merriman colored with pleasure.
”Jolly good of you to say so, I'm sure, inspector,” he said; ”but I'm afraid most of the credit for that goes to Hilliard.”
”It was your joint work I was speaking of,” Willis insisted. ”But now to get on to business. As I said, my difficulty is that I suspect the members of the syndicate of complicity in Mr. Coburn's death, but I can't prove it. I have thought out a plan which may or may not produce this proof. It is in this that I want your help.”
”Mr. Inspector,” cried Madeleine reproachfully, ”need you ask for it?”
Willis laughed.
”I don't think so. But I can't very well come in and command it, you know.”
”Of course you can,” Madeleine returned. ”You know very well that in such a cause Mr. Merriman and I would do anything.”
”I believe it, and I am going to put you to the test. I'll tell you my idea. It has occurred to me that these people might be made to give themselves away. Suppose they had one of their private meetings to discuss the affairs of the syndicate, and that, unknown to them, witnesses could be present to overhear what was said. Would there not at least be a sporting chance that they would incriminate themselves?”
”Yes!” said Merriman, much interested. ”Likely enough. But I don't see how you could arrange that.”
Willis smiled slightly.
”I think it might be managed,” he answered. ”If a meeting were to take place we could easily learn where it was to be held and hear what went on. But the first point is the difficulty--the question of the holding of the meeting. In the ordinary course there might be none for months.
Therefore we must take steps to have one summoned. And that,” he turned to Madeleine, ”is where I want your help.”
His hearers stared, mystified, and Willis resumed.
”Something must happen of such importance to the welfare of the syndicate that the leaders will decide that a full conference of the members is necessary. So far as I can see, you alone can cause that something to happen. I will tell you how. But I must warn you that I fear it will rake up painful memories.”
Madeleine, her lips parted, was hanging on his words.
”Go on,” she said quickly, ”we have settled all that.”
”Thank you,” said Willis, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket. ”I have here the draft of a letter which I want you to write to Captain Beamish. You can phrase it as you like; in fact I want it in your own words. Read it over and you will understand.”
The draft ran as follows:
”SILVERDALE ROAD,
”EASTBOURNE.