The Hangman (Trevor Lowe Book 2) by Gerald Verner

Author:Gerald Verner [Verner, Gerald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-05-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen – the arrest

Owing to the small staff at Hill Green police station, the two men whom Shadgold had brought down with him from London were put temporarily at the service of the local police. Larson was therefore given the job of examining the Nethcotts’ car, and reporting on the state of the tyres. And Nares towards evening was sent to relieve the man who was watching the Nethcott house.

Whatever slight doubt Trevor Lowe might have had regarding Harold Nethcott’s guilt had been completely dispelled by the discovery of the key. Every fresh clue, small though they were, pointed to the fact that he was the murderer. After returning from the cross roads and learning of the finding of the key, Shadgold, the chief constable and Inspector Lightfoot had had a short conference to which the dramatist had been invited; and the result of that conference was to send Lightfoot in search of a certain Mr. Crablett, who was also the chief magistrate for the district, to swear out a warrant for the arrest of Harold Nethcott.

“We’ll take him to-night,” mumbled Shadgold, his mouth full of beef sandwich which had been sent in to the station.

Lowe nodded, but his face was a little troubled.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Lowe?” demanded the Scotland Yard man, “you look pretty glum.”

The dramatist helped himself to a sandwich from the heaped pile, and shrugged his shoulders. They were alone, for Payton had taken his departure with Lightfoot.

“I don’t like it at all, Shadgold,” he admitted after a pause.

The stout inspector stared at him in surprise.

“Don’t like what?” he said with difficulty.

“The whole business,” answered Lowe, shaking his head. “It’s nasty. I wish I wasn’t mixed up with it.”

“Do you mean that you don’t think that this man Nethcott is guilty?” asked Shadgold.

“No, no,” replied the dramatist quickly. “I don’t think there’s any doubt of that. But I’m equally convinced that he’s not responsible for his actions.”

“That’s nothing to do with us,” growled the inspector. “That’s for the doctors, and the judge and the jury to decide. Our job was to find the man responsible for these murders, and we’ve done it.”

Lowe smiled wryly.

“There wasn’t much to do, was there?” he said. “It was all done for us. Anyway, I’m glad it’s over, it’s been a most unsavoury business and the worst part’s to come.”

In his mind’s eye he saw the little harassed, nervous man who was the brother of the man they were going to arrest. It would be a terrible shock to him, and to that girl. They had suspected, of course, that was why they had been so scared. But that wouldn’t mitigate the force of the blow.

“I suppose you’ll be going back to town to-night, Mr. Lowe,” said Shadgold presently.

“Yes, I think so,” replied the dramatist. “I’ll give you a lift if you like.”

“I shan’t go back till to-morrow, thanks all the same,” said the Scotland Yard man. “I’d like to thank you, Mr. Lowe, for coming down and giving me a hand.

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