The Case of Elymas the Sorcerer by Brian Flynn

Author:Brian Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

VIII

MacMorran was as good as his word. He reported in the matter of Elmer Oliver and his address in the Leytonstone district in less than the time period which he had stipulated. Anthony sat down in the library at “Palings” (the same room as he had sat in and questioned Drusilla Ives) and listened eagerly. The “Yard” Inspector’s first few words, however, condemned him to disappointment.

“Nothing, Mr. Bathurst,” said MacMorran in his opening remarks; “not a sausage! When Elmer Oliver left Leytonstone after the death of his wife, he cleared himself out and all his belongings (such as they were) lock, stock and barrel.”

“Sure of that, Andrew?”

“Sure as I am of anything on this earth.”

“What did the Olivers have there? Furnished apartments?”

“Yes. That’s just what they did have. When she died and he ‘went’, believe me, they left no trace. We were lucky with Steel, but it turned up the other way as regards the Olivers.”

“H’m. Not so good! Very definitely not so good! Ah well, it means this. I must turn my concentrated attention on to those robberies, including”—and at this moment Anthony’s eyes twinkled—“the particular robbery visited upon Miss Drusilla Ives at Bray. That’s put in to please you, Andrew.”

“I thought it might be,” returned MacMorran, not turning a hair. “I indicated so the day before yesterday.”

“I’ve also,” said Anthony, “since I last saw you, had another interview with the Chief Constable. I’ve put him in touch with the position as we now have it.”

“How did the Colonel take it?” asked MacMorran laconically. “So-so. I’m of the opinion that he’s rather critical of our joint efforts, Andrew. You see, I started off on the wrong foot with him. I was introduced by my host here, with a positive fanfare of trumpets. That’s always a mistake. Buxton, no doubt, looked for big results pronto. He didn’t get ’em. He hasn’t exactly got ’em yet, although we’ve made a move or two. Seeing, therefore, that this is thus, as Reggie Fortune would say, hence these tears.”

“Don’t know where he’d have been if he’d left the case in Kershaw’s hands,” put in MacMorran; “although, of course, I do if we come right down to earth and content ourselves with facts.”

Anthony rose and stretched his shoulders. “Something more may turn up,” he said, “even when we least expect it. We’ll continue to exist, Andrew, in that lively hope.”

MacMorran nodded his agreement. “I’ll go further than you. Seems to me something’s bound to turn up. But it may not be for some little time yet. And in the meantime—?” He paused on the question. Anthony answered it for him.

“In the meantime, I’ll do a little canoe-paddling on my lonesome. I have strong hopes that Drusilla Ives may turn the scales in our favour.”

“Hope you’re right,” replied the Inspector, “in case not.”

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