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Nobody's Man, a novel by E. Phillips Oppenheim |
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Book One - Chapter 4 |
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_ BOOK ONE CHAPTER IV Mr Inspector Gillian of Barnstaple had no idea of denying his profession. He had travelled over in a specially hired motor-car, and he was wearing his best uniform. He rose to his feet at Tallente's entrance and saluted a little ponderously. "Mr. Andrew Tallente, sir?" he enquired. Tallente silently admitted his identity, waved the inspector back to his seat--the one high-backed and uncomfortable chair in the room--and took an easy-chair himself. "I have come over, sir," the man continued, "according to instructions received by telephone from Scotland Yard. My business is to ask you a few questions concerning the disappearance of the Honourable Anthony Palliser, who was, I am given to understand, your secretary." "Dear me!" Tallente exclaimed. "I had no idea that the young man's temporary absence from polite society would be turned into a melodramatic disappearance." The inspector took mental note of the levity in Tallente's tone, and disapproved. "The Honourable Anthony Palliser disappeared from here, sir, on Tuesday night last, the night of your return from London," he said. "I have come to ask you certain questions with reference to that disappearance." "Go ahead," Tallente begged. "Care to smoke a cigar?" "Not whilst on duty, thank you, sir," was the dignified reply. "You will forgive my cigarette," Tallente observed, lighting one. "Now you can go ahead as fast as you like." "Question number one is this, sir. I wish to know whether Mr. Palliser's abrupt departure from the Manor was due to any disagreement with you?" "In a sense I suppose it was," the other acknowledged. "I turned him out of the house." The inspector did not attempt to conceal his gratification. He made a voluminous note in his pocketbook. "Am I to conclude, then, that there was a quarrel?" he enquired. "I do not quarrel with people to whom I pay a salary," Tallente replied. "When you say that you turned him out of the house, that rather implies a quarrel, doesn't it? It might even imply--blows." "You can put your own construction upon it," was the cool reply. "Had you any idea where the honourable Anthony Palliser was going to?" "I suggested the devil," Tallente confided blandly. "I expect he will get there some time. I put up with him because I knew his father, but he is not a young man to make a fuss about." The inspector was a little staggered. "I am to conclude, then," he said, "that you were dissatisfied with his work as your secretary?" "Absolutely," was the firm reply. "You have no idea what a mess he was liable to make of things if he was left alone." The inspector coughed. "Mr. Tallente, sir," he said, "my instructions are to ask you to disclose the nature of your displeasure, if any, with the Honourable Mr. Anthony Palliser. In plain words, Scotland Yard desires to know why he was turned away from his place at a moment's notice." "I suppose it is the duty of Scotland Yard to be inquisitive in cases of this sort," Tallente observed. "You can report to them the whole of the valuable information with which I have already furnished you, and you can add that I absolutely refuse to give any information respecting the--er--difference of opinion between the young man and myself." The inspector did not conceal his dissatisfaction. "I shall ask, you, sir," he said with dignity, "to reconsider that decision. Remember that it is the police who ask, and in cases of this sort they have special privileges." "As soon as any criminal case arises from Anthony Palliser's disappearance," Tallente pointed out, "you will be in a position to ask me questions from a different standpoint. For the present I have given you just as much information as I feel inclined to. Shall we leave it at that?" The inspector appeared to have become hard of hearing. He did not attempt to rise from his chair. "Being your private secretary, sir," he said, "the Honourable Anthony Palliser would no doubt have access to your private papers?" "Naturally," Tallente conceded. "There might be amongst them papers of importance, papers whose possession by parties in the other camp of politics--" "Stop!" Tallente interrupted. "Inspector Gillan, you are an astute man. Excuse me." He crossed the room and, with a key which he took from a chain attached to his trouser button, opened a small but powerful safe fitted into the wall. He opened it confidently enough, gazed inside and remained for a moment transfixed. Then he took up a few little packets of papers, glanced them through and replaced them. He still stood there, dangling the key in his hard. The inspector watched him curiously. "Anything missing, sir?" he asked. Tallente swung the door to and came back to his chair. "Yes!" he admitted. "Can I make a note of the nature of the loss, sir?" the man asked, moistening his pencil. "A political paper of some personal consequence," Tallente replied. "Its absence disquiets me. It also confirms my belief that Palliser is lying doggo for a time." "A hint as to the contents of the missing paper would be very acceptable, sir," Inspector Gillian begged. Tallente shook his head. "For the present," he decided, "I can only repeat what I said a few moments ago--I have given you just as much information as I feel inclined to." The inspector rose to his feet. "My report will not be wholly satisfactory to Scotland Yard, sir," he declared. "My experience of the estimable body is that they take a lot of satisfying," Tallente replied. "Will you take anything before you go, Inspector?" "Nothing whatever, thank you, sir. At the risk of annoying you, I am bound to ask this question. Will you tell me whether anything in the nature of blows passed between you and the Honourable Anthony Palliser, previous to his leaving your house?" "I will not even satisfy your curiosity to that extent," Tallente answered. "It will be my duty, sir," the inspector said ponderously, "to examine some of your servants." "Scotland Yard can do that for themselves," Tallente observed. "My wife and the greater part of the domestic staff left here for London a week ago." The representative of the law saluted solemnly. "I am sorry that you have not felt inclined to treat me with more confidence in this matter, Mr. Tallente," he said. He took his leave then. Tallente heard him conversing for some time with Robert and saw him in the garden, interviewing the small boy. Afterwards, he climbed into his car and drove away. Tallente opened his safe and once more let the little array of folded papers slip through his hands. Then he rang the bell for Robert, who presently appeared. "The inspector has quite finished with you?" his master asked. Robert was a portly man, a little unhealthy in colour and a little short of breath. He had been gassed in the war and his nerves were not what they had been. It was obvious, as he stood on the other side of the table, that he was trembling. "Quite, sir. He was enquiring about Mr. Palliser." His master nodded. "I am afraid he will find it a little difficult to obtain any information round here," he remarked. "There are certain things connected with that young man which may throw a new light upon his disappearance." "Indeed, sir?" Robert murmured. Tallente glanced towards the safe. "Robert," he confided, "I have been robbed." The man started a little. "Indeed, sir?" he replied. "Nothing very valuable, I hope?" "I have been robbed of papers," Tallente said quietly, "which in the wrong hands might ruin me. Mr. Palliser had a key to that safe. Have you ever seen it open?" "Never, sir." "When did Mr. Palliser arrive here?" "On the evening train of the Monday, sir, that you arrived by on the Tuesday." "Tell me, did he receive any visitors at all on the Tuesday?" "There was a man came over from a house near Lynton, sir, said his name was Miller." "Have you any idea what he wanted?" "No certain idea, sir," Robert replied doubtfully. "Now I come to think of it, though, it seemed as though he had come to make Mr. Palliser some sort of an offer. After I had let him out, he came back and said something to Mr. Palliser about three thousand pounds, and Mr. Palliser said he would let him know. I got the idea, somehow or other, that the transaction, whatever it might have been, was to be concluded on Tuesday night." "Why didn't you tell me this before, Robert?" his master enquired. "Other things drove it out of my mind, sir," the man confessed. "I didn't look upon it as of much consequence. I thought it was something to do with Mr. Palliser's private affairs." Tallente glanced at the safe. "I saw this man Miller at the station," he said, "when I arrived." "That would be on his way back from here, sir," Robert acquiesced. "I gathered that he was coming back again after dinner in a car." "Did you hear a car at all that night?" "I rather fancied I did," the man asserted. "I didn't take particular notice, though." Tallente frowned. "I am very much afraid, Robert," he said, "that wherever Mr. Palliser is, those papers are." Robert shivered. "Very good, sir," he said, in a low tone. "Any speculations as to that young man's whereabouts," Tallente continued thoughtfully, "must necessarily be a matter of pure guesswork, but supposing, Robert, he should have wandered in that mist the wrong way--turned to the left, for instance, outside this window, instead of to the right--he might very easily have fallen over the cliff." "The walk is very unsafe in the dark, sir," Robert acquiesced, looking down at the carpet. "It was not my intention," Tallente remarked thoughtfully, "to kill the young man. A brawl in front of the windows was impossible, so I took him with me to the lookout. I suppose he was tactless and I lost my temper. I struck him on the chin and he went backwards, through that piece of rotten paling, you know, Robert--" "I know, sir," the man interrupted, with a little moan. "Please don't!" Tallente shrugged his shoulders. "I took him at no disadvantage," he said coolly. "He knew how to use the gloves and he was twenty years younger than I. However, there it is. Backwards he went, all legs and arms and shrieks. And with him went the papers he had stolen.--At twelve o'clock to-night, Robert, I must go down after him." "It's impossible, sir! It's a sheer precipice for four hundred feet!" "Nothing of the sort," was the cool reply. "There are heaps of ledges and little clumps of pines and yews. All that you will have to do is to pull up the rope when I am ready. You can fasten it to a tree when I go down." "It's not worth it, sir," the man protested anxiously. "No one will ever find the body down there." "Send the boy home to stay with his parents to-night," Tallente continued. "Your wife, I suppose, can be trusted?" "She is living up at the garage, sir," Robert answered. "Besides, she is deaf. I'll tell her that I am sleeping in the house to-night as you are not very well. And forgive me, sir--her ladyship left a message. She hoped you would lunch with her to-morrow." Tallente strolled out again in a few minutes, curiously impatient of the restraint of walls, and clambered up the precipitous field at the back of the Manor. Far up the winding road which led back into the world, a motor-car was crawling on its way up over. He watched it through a pair of field glasses. Leaning back in the tonneau with folded arms, as though solemnly digesting a problem, was Inspector Gillian. Tallente closed the glasses with a little snap and smiled. "The Bucket type," he murmured to himself, "very much the Bucket type." _ |
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