Body in the Bonfire by Christopher Bush

Author:Christopher Bush [Bush, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt & Company
Published: 1936-08-14T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

THE LAST LAUGH

FOR at least a day or two, according to Wharton, there would be no developments. Possibly by the Monday night there might be information about Henry Luke, but till he was picked up or some informatory connecting link was found, the case would mark time. So on the Sunday afternoon Travers slipped down to his sister’s place as usual, and it was towards seven o’clock on the Monday evening when he called in at the Yard on his way to the flat, having phoned Wharton early.

Wharton was soberly optimistic. He might not have his teeth in a beef-steak but there was a smell of cooking in the air. Things were coming in about Luke, he said—or it looked as if it were Luke. There had been two replies to the SOS, and the first was from Bournemouth.

“Norris is still down there, making inquiries,” he said, “but the facts as supplied seem to be these. Five years ago they had a small crop of burglaries down there, including two jewel robberies. A certain man was suspected—name of Courtney, but that would be an alias—but he turned out to have a perfect alibi and the police down there very nearly landed themselves in trouble. Shortly afterwards he left the district, and he gave the police to understand that they’d made scandal about him which was turning people against him. He left everything in order when he went—paid the rent for the little furnished house and everything—and that was the last Bournemouth heard of him. The curious thing is that he bore a very exact physical resemblance to Luke.”

“What about prints?”

“Ah!” said Wharton, “they never got so far as that. What happened was this. There was a robbery and someone saw a certain person coming in a suspicious manner from where it took place, though he didn’t know till later that a robbery had taken place. He didn’t say a thing to the police, but a day or two later he saw the man and rushed up to a policeman and said there was the man who did the robbery, or something like that. It turned out to be absolutely wrong, as I said, but the informer still swore blind he was right.”

“And what about the second discovery?”

“Ah!” said Wharton again, and his jaws clamped together. “There’s some more of our friend Mott. Four years ago there were two cases of robbery at Garrod’s Heath. In one, a Hatton Garden man who lives there was knocked on the head and his pockets rifled. He claimed a loss of five thousand worth of stones, though what he was paid I don’t know. Just before that there was a burglary at a house about a mile out of the town, and a lot of stuff including some rare old silver went. Both took place within a month, and then there weren’t any more till just over a year when this series started, and they’ve been going on spasmodically ever since. I’ve worked out this tentative time-table.

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