The Ninth Enemy: An Inspector Knollis Mystery (The Inspector Knollis Mysteries Book 4) by Francis Vivian

Author:Francis Vivian [Vivian, Francis]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2018-10-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter X

The Evidence of Dickens

They discovered Dickens, or Froggatt as he was now known to be, in a small office partitioned from the grinding shop. He looked up with surprise as they came upon him so unexpectedly, and a momentary flash of alarm came into his eyes, as a result of which Knollis changed his plans. Then Dickens was smiling, and inviting them to be seated.

“Didn’t expect you to-day, Inspector. Anything I can do for you, or are you just taking a look round the works?”

“I don’t know whether you can help us or not,” Knollis replied doubtfully. “We’ve come upon what seems to be a very peculiar state of affairs, and there is the odd chance that you may be the one man who can straighten it out for us.”

“Anything I can do” Dickens said uneasily.

“It concerns your—er—brother, known as Walter Froggatt,” Knollis said ambiguously.

Dickens shot him a sharp glance. “Oh! My brother!”

“Your brother,” Knollis repeated, as if relishing the word. “It would seem that a ghastly mistake was made in identifying the body which was found at the foot of the Seven Sisters.”

Dickens winced, and hurried to make an explanation.

“Jean identified the body, Inspector,” he protested. “I don’t see how any mistake could have been made. I mean, the coroner was satisfied!”

“Yes, that is the peculiar part of the business,” said Knollis. “It is queer that Jean Montague should have recognized the remains as those of her—husband.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see what you are driving at, Inspector,” Dickens shrugged.

“A clerk by the name of Telsen vanished on the same day, Mr. Dickens.”

Dickens drew in his breath sharply.

“Never heard of him, of course, Mr. Dickens?”

“What, me?” Dickens jerked out. “Not me. Never heard the name in my life—except as the name of a famous researcher in electrical history.”

“Ah! I was afraid of that,” said Knollis. “Now your brother, Mr. Dickens; did he carry any scars or other mutilations?”

“He was badly battered, Inspector. They think he must have caught several jagged rocks on the way down.”

“I am referring to operation or accident scars,” Knollis said patiently. “He never had any accidents?”

Dickens shook his head. “No, I’m certain of that. His body was as whole as my own.”

“And you can really swear to that?” asked Knollis as if with great relief.

“Well, I should know the state of my own brother’s body, Inspector!”

Knollis grunted. “That rather settles the matter, doesn’t it, Ellis? Telsen was minus one big toe, and Froggatt had no scars or mutilations. The body found at the foot of the cliffs was complete but for one toe. Now once the body is exhumed the Home Office pathologist can—”

Dickens rose slowly from his chair, both hands tightly clutching the edge of the table. “Exhumed!” he shouted. “You mean that you are going to dig him up? You can’t do it without my permission, and I refuse to allow my brother’s grave to be desecrated. I definitely refuse to allow it!”

“Tell me, Mr. Dickens,” Knollis said quietly; “why were you absent from the inquest?”

“I wasn’t absent.

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