Temple Tower by Sapper

Author:Sapper [Sapper]
Format: epub
Tags: detective, bulldog, drummond, crime, sapper, boulogne
ISBN: 9780755123377
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2010-06-12T23:00:00+00:00

“‘Le moulin à Bonneval.’

“The mill at Bonneval, and Bonneval was the name of a village between Chateaudun and Chartres. Moreover, it was the nearest village to the quarry where the motorcar had been hidden during the day. Isn’t it an astounding fact how sometimes, after months and years of fruitless labour, a stray remark casually overheard may provide a clue? As it stood, of course, there was nothing in it – but the coincidence attracted my attention. It was well it did so: amazing though it seems that a chance remark was destined to end our search.

“I stole a glance at the Nightingale: he, too, had caught the phrase, and was listening intently. And after a while, as the full significance of their conversation sank into his mind, he began to quiver like a terrier when it sees a rat. Sometimes the men lowered their voices, but for the most part what they said was clearly audible. And one fact was soon established definitely. These two sailors owned the ketch Rose Marie, and they had recently smuggled over a cargo consisting of three large wooden cases, which had been landed on Romney Marsh somewhere between Rye and Dungeness. Further, that these cases had something to do with the mill at Bonneval.

“I give you my word that by this time I was almost as excited as the Nightingale himself. I remembered that there was an old disused mill, standing a little back from the road, about a kilometre north of Bonneval.

“Was it possible that that was the hiding-place which we had searched for in vain? And if so, who was the recipient of the cases on Romney Marsh?

“Then another thought struck me: was le Bossu Masqué present? I glanced round the room: there were only some fisher-folk and a pale youth who looked as if he served in some shop. Honestly I could not think he was there, and yet–”

He waved his hand at the tree behind me.

“However,” he continued, “it may be that he wasn’t. The Nightingale is an easy man to track, and that may easily account for it. To return to that evening. The two sailors didn’t say much more, but what they had said was quite enough to send the Nightingale flying over to England. He has one gift which you probably noticed the night before last – he speaks English fluently. And that was a considerable help to him. It was impossible for him to tell, of course, if the cases had been landed on Romney Marsh because the Toad was near at hand, or simply because it is an admirably situated locality for smuggling.”

“Hold hard a moment,” said Hugh. “How long ago did you overhear this conversation in the wine shop?”

“About six weeks,” answered Matthews. “Rather more. Well, I can’t tell you when the Nightingale first discovered that the man he wanted was your next-door neighbour. He’s no fool, and presumably his suspicions at once fell on a house fortified like Temple Tower. So did mine.

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