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Updated: July 25, 2025
After munching his sandwich and drinking his ale at the Highmarket Arms, Mallalieu had gone away to Hobwick Quarry and taken a careful look round. Just as he had expected, he found a policeman or two and a few gaping townsfolk there. He made no concealment of his own curiosity; he had come up, he said, to see what there was to be seen at the place where his clerk had come to this sad end.
"Well," replied the superintendent, reluctantly, "of course I get to hear everything. If you must have it, the prevailing notion is that both you and Mr. Mallalieu had a hand in Kitely's death. They think his murder's at your doors, and that what happened to Stoner was a by-chance.
The two partners appreciated Stoner, and they had gradually increased his salary until it reached the sum of two pounds twelve shillings and sixpence per week. In their opinion a young single man ought to have done very well on that: Mallalieu and Cotherstone had both done very well on less when they were clerks in that long vanished past of which they did not care to think.
He explained his objections to the scheme they Were considering; he pointed out this and urged that finally, he said that he was so little satisfied with the project that he would go and see the Mayor of the sister town that very evening, and discuss the matter with him to the last detail. Mallalieu stepped out of the committee-room to find the superintendent awaiting him in the corridor.
"Doesn't it say here that he was treasurer?" retorted Cotherstone, laying his hand on the open scrap-book. "He was he'd full control of the money. He drew me into things drew me into 'em in such a clever way that when the smash came I couldn't help myself. I had to go through with it. And I never knew until until the two years was over that Mallalieu had that money safely put away."
Stoner emerged from Mallalieu & Cotherstone's office at his usual hour of half-past five on the afternoon of the day on which the reward bills were put out. It was his practice to drop in at the Grey Mare Inn every evening on his way to his supper, there to drink a half-pint of bitter ale and hear the news of the day from various cronies who were to be met with in the bar-parlour.
I have already arranged with Mr. Strawson, furniture remover, to send up a couple of vans tomorrow morning, very early. Into those vans the furniture will be placed, and the vans will convey it to Norcaster, whence they will be transshipped bodily to London, by sea. Mr. Mallalieu you'll leave here, sir, in one of those vans!" Mallalieu listened, considered, began to see possibilities.
"So that's the line you're taking?" said Tallington quietly. "A good one for him." "Every man for himself," remarked the Norcaster practitioner. "We're not concerned with Mallalieu we're concerned about ourselves. See you when Cotherstone's brought before your worthies next Tuesday. And a word in your ear! it won't be a long job, then."
No fencing, said this inward monitor, no circumlocution get to it, straight out. And Stoner thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a copy of the reward bill. He opened it before his employer, watching Mallalieu's face. "That!" he said. "Just that, Mr. Mallalieu." Mallalieu glanced at the handbill, started a little, and looked half-sharply, half-angrily, at his clerk.
When several days had gone by and the police investigations seemed to have settled down into a concentrated purpose against the suspected man, both Mallalieu and Cotherstone believed themselves safe from discovery their joint secret appeared to be well buried with the old detective.
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