Fear and Trembling: An Anthony Bathurst Mystery (The Anthony Bathurst Mysteries Book 19) by Brian Flynn

Author:Brian Flynn [Flynn, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2020-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

THE THIRD SOMERSET

If Anthony Lotherington Bathurst were destined to remember for a considerable length of time the day that brought to his flat the beautiful but mysterious lady, he was destined to remember the day that followed it even more so. Sir Austin Kemble telephoned him about a quarter to five in the afternoon. Anthony, who had been out for the better part of the day, picked up the receiver, when the summons came, rather wearily. But the Commissioner’s opening words dispelled his weariness and stung him into something like activity.

“That hurts me, sir,” he said eventually. “I don’t know how you feel about it. But it definitely hurts me. I feel humiliated about it. What’s that?—you’re coming over to me now? Good! I was just going out again, but I’ll wait here for you.”

Anthony settled himself down to wait for the Commissioner. This latest piece of news was terrible. He refused to think until he was in possession of more data. Sir Austin’s car was outside the flat in quick time. Emily let the Commissioner in, and Anthony turned from his chair to see both him and Inspector MacMorran crossing the threshold.

The Commissioner got down to business immediately.

“This is a bad business, Bathurst.”

“Sit down, sir, and give me all the details.”

Sir Austin Kemble turned to Inspector MacMorran.

“You start, MacMorran, do you mind? You know more about it than I do. You had the first news—before I got it.”

The Inspector nodded.

“Very good, sir.” He then addressed Anthony. “Our first intimation at the ‘Yard’ was at about a quarter past one this afternoon. Young Somerset’s confidential clerk ’phoned through to us. Digby, I fancy his name is. The gist of what he had to say to us was this. His guv’nor had disappeared during the morning. That was the message he gave us, exactly as we received it.”

He looked at Sir Austin Kemble.

“Shall I keep on, Sir Austin—or will you?”

The Commissioner shook his head.

“You carry on, Inspector.”

“Just a minute.” The interruption came from Anthony. “This is important. Where were your men at the time? The men that were detailed to look after Somerset?”

“In their usual place, in his outer office. When he was on the premises, they were there. They had been there since he arrived in the morning. I arranged that with Sir Austin here.”

“What happened, then?” Anthony’s tones were crisp and curt.

“Digby’s story was roughly this. Somewhere about eleven o’clock, he said, young Somerset came into his room, closed the door carefully, and informed him that he had just had a mysterious telephone message. ‘Mysterious’ was the word that was used. I sounded Digby thoroughly on the point. I guessed you’d ask me about it, so I made sure of matters beforehand.” MacMorran’s voice was dry-toned. Anthony noticed it and smiled at the thrust.

“Go on,” he contented himself with saying.

“Digby then stated that the young guv’nor had told him that the person who had ’phoned, wanted to meet him on the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral at noon exactly, because there was vital information ‘to be passed on to him’.

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