The Missing Bank Manager

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 156, 22 September 1927, Page 13

The Missing Bank Manager

SERIAL

STORY

By

J. S. FLETCHER

Chapter XXIII (Continued). “And all this helps,” answered Easlebj. "Haven’t you got anything?” “Don’t know that I have,” admitted Starmidge, “just now, had a dozen; but; they’re a b*t mixed, at PfMent. Have you—tofter what we’ve found out?” ‘What sort of banking business is it tha Chesterm trices carry on down there a.t Scarnham asked Easleby. ‘T suppose you’ve got a general idea.” “Correct tiling in a small country town,” replied .Stannidge. “Highly respectable, county family business, I should say, fr >m what I saw and heard.” “All the squirt's, and the parson; 5, and the farmers, i nd better sort of tradesmen go to ’em, I suppose?’ suggested ftwleby. “And all the nice old adiee and that sort; an extra respectable connection, eh?” "Just as I say—regular country-town husdeess.” said Starmidge, half iin patiently .

“Una!" remarked Easleby. “Now, if you were a highly respectable country - town banker, with a connection of that sort, among very proper people, and if if so happened that you were living a double Hfe, and running a money-lend- | n S business n London, do you think Jou’d want your banking customers to Know what you were after when you banking?” “what are you getting at?” asked starmidge. Tm not quite sure,” replied Easleby, candour "But I think I shall J* t&ire, all the same. Now didn’t •°u say from all accounts supplied to em U this Mr * * r ° ,ln Horbury was an Jhhwntly proper sort of person? Very

well. Supposing it suddenly came to his knowledge that his employer, or employers, for I expect both Chestarmarkes are in it —were notorious money-lenders in London, and that they carried on this secret business in the greedy and grasping fashion, what do you suppose he’d do, especially if he was, as you say Horbury was, a man of some considerable means?”

“What do you think he’d do?” asked Starmidge.

“I think it's quite on the cards that he’d chuck his job there and then,” said Easleby, “and not only that, but that he’d probably threaten exposure. Men of a very severe type of commercial religion would, my lad! —I know ’em! ’’ “you’re suggesting—what?” inquired the younger detective. “I'm suggesting that on that night of Hollis’s visit to Scarnham, Horbury, through Hollis, became acquainted with tlie Ohestermarke secret,” replied Easleby, 'and that he let the Cheatermarkes know it. And in that case—what would happen?” Starmidge walked slowly on at his companion’s side, thinking. He was trying to fit together a great many things; he felt as a child feels who is presented with a puzzle in many pieces and told to put them together. “I know what you’re after,” he said suddenly “You think the Chestermarkes murdered Horbury?” “If you want it plain and straight, replied Easleby, “I do! “There’s the other man—Hollis, suggested Starmidge. “I should say they finished him as well,'' said Easleby. “Easy enough iob that, on the evidence. Supposing one of ’em took Hollis off, alone, across

that moor you’ve told me about, and induced him to look into that old leadmine? What easier than to push him into it? Meanwhile, the other could settle Horbury. Murder, my lad! that’s what all this comes to. I’ve known men murdered for less than + hat.”

Again Starmidge reflected in silence. “There’s only one thing puzzles me on that point,” he said eventually. “It’s not a puzzle, either —it’s a doubt. Do you think the Chestermarkes —or, we’ll say Gabriel, as we’re certain about him—do you think Gabriel would be so keen about keeping his secret as tc> go to that length? Do you think he’s cultivated it as a secret —that it’s been a really important secret?” “We can soon solve that,” answered Easleby. ‘‘.At least—to-morrow morning.” “How?” demanded Starmidge. “By calling,” said Easleby, “on Mr. Godwin Markham, in Conduit Street.” CHAPTER XXIV. MRS. CARSWELL. Starmidge looked at his companion as if in doubt about Easleby’s exact meaning. “According to what the theatre chap said just now,” he remarked, “Markham :is very rarely to be found in Conduit Street.”

“Exactly,” agreed Easleby. “That’s why I want to go there.” Starmidge shook his head. “Don’t follow!’ he said. “Make it clear.”

Easleby tapped his fellow-detective’s arm.

“You said just now—would Gabriel Chestermarke be so keen about keep* ing his secret as to go to any length in keeping it,” he answered. “Now I say we can solve that by calilng at his office. His manager, as Castlemayne told us, is one Stipp—Mr. James Stipp. I propose to see Mr. Stipp. You and I must be fools if, inside of ten minutes, we can’t find out if Stipp knows thaL.Godwin Markham is Gabriel Chestermarke! We will find out! And if we find out that Stipp doesn’t know that, if we find that Stipp is utterly unaware that there is such a person as Gabrial Chestermarke, or, at any rate, that he doesn’t connect Gabriel Chestermarke with Godwin Markham—why, then ” He ended with a dry laugh and waved his hand as if the matter were settled. But Starmidge had a love of precision and liked matters to be put in plain words- . “Well—and what then?” he demanded. »

“What then?” exclaimed Easelby. “Why, then* we shall know, for a certainty, that Gabriel Chestermarke is keen about his secret! If he keeps it from the man who does his business for him here in London, he’d go to any length to keep it safe if it »vas threatened by his manager at Scarnham. Is that clear, my lad?” The two men in the course of the slow strolling away from the Adalbert Theatre had come to the end of Shaftesbury Avenue, and had - drawn aside from the crowds during the last minute or two to exchange their confidences in private. Starmidge looked meditatively jit the thronging multitudes of Piccadilly Circus, and watched them awhile before he answered his companion’s last observation. “I don’t want to precipitate matters,” he said at last. “I don’t want an anticlimax. Suppose we found Markham—or Chestermarke —there? Or supposing

“Excellent—in either case,” replied Easleby. “Serve our purpose equally well. If he’s there, you betray the greatest surprise at seeing him- —you can act up to that. If he should come in, you’re equally surprised—see? We haven’t gone there about any Chestermarke, you know —we aren’t going to let it out there that we know what we do know —not likely!” “What have we gone there for, then?” asked Starmidge. “We’ve gone to say that Mrs. Helen Lester, of Lowd&le Court, near Chesham, has informed us (the police) that she placed a certain sum of money in the hands of her friend, Mr. Frederick EtoLis, for the purpose of clearing off a debt contracted by her son, Lieutenant Lester,‘with'"Mr, God-

win Markham; that Mr. Hollis has been found dead under strange circumstances at Scarnham, and that we should be vastly obliged to Mr. Markham if he can give us any information or light on the matter, or hints about it,” replied Easleby. “That, of course, is what we shall say-—and all that we shall say—to Mr. James Stipp. If, however, we find Gabriel Chestermarke there—well, then, we shall say nothing —at first. We shall leave him to do the saiying—it’ll be his job to begin.” “All right,” assented Starmidge, after a moment’s reflection. “We’ll try it! Meet you to-morrow morning, then—corner of Conduit Street and New Bond Street—say ten-thirty. Now I’m going home.” Starmidge, being a bachelor, tenanted a small flat in Westminster, within easy reach of headquarters. He repaired to it immediately on leaving Easleby, intent on spending a couple of hours in ease and comfort before retiring to bed. But he had scarcely put on his slippers, lighted his pipe, mixed a whisky and soda, and picked up a book, when a knock at his outer door sent him to open it, and to find Gardam standing in the lobby. Gardam glanced at him with a smile which was half apologetic and half triumphant. ‘Tve been to the office after you, Mr. Starmiidge,” he said. “They gave me your address, so I came on here.” Starmidge saw that the mah was full

of news, and he motioned him to enter and led him to his sitting-room. “You’ve heard something, then?” he asked. “Seen something, Mr. Starmidge,” answered Gardam, taking the chair which Starmidge pointed to. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear anything—l wish I had!” Starmidge gave his visitor a drink and dropped into his own easy chair again. “Chestermarke, of course?” he suggested. “Well, What?” 1 “1 happened to catch sight of him this evening,” replied Gardam. “Sheer accident it was—but there’s no mistaking him. Half-past six, I was coming along Piccadilly, and I saw him leaving the Camellia Club. He—” “What sort of club’s that, now?” asked Starmidge. “Social club —men about town, sporting men, actors, journalists, so on,” replied Gardam. “I know- a bit about it —had a case relating to it not so long ago. Well, he went along Piccadilly, and of course I followed him —I wasn’t going to lose sight of him after that set-back of last night, Mr. Starmidge! He crossed the Circus and went into the Cafe Monico. I followed him in there. Do you knpw that downstairs saloon there?” (To be Continued.)