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Updated: June 5, 2025
"No," answered Starmidge after a moment's reflection, "but manage to find out where he goes." He sat and thought a long time after his visitor had left, and his thoughts all centred on one fact: the undoubted fact that Gabriel Chestermarke and Mrs. Carswell had met. The offices of Mr.
"Then come on," said Starmidge, dropping into a chair by the editorial desk. "I'll tell you all about it." Polke listened admiringly while the detective carefully narrated the facts of what was henceforth to be known as the Scarnham Mystery. Nothing appeared to have escaped Starmidge's observation and attention.
Finally, he supplemented his account with a full description of John Horbury, carefully furnished by the united efforts of Polke and Parkinson, and wound up by announcing the five hundred pounds reward. "All over England, tonight, and tomorrow morning, sir," said Parkinson, gathering up his copy. "Now I'm off to wire this at once. Great engine the Press, Mr. Starmidge!
He was sleeping soundly when a steady knocking at his door roused him, to hear the voice of his landlady outside. And at the same time he heard the big clock of the parish church striking midnight. "Mr. Starmidge!" said the voice, "there's a policeman wanting you. Will you go round at once to Mr. Polke's? There's a man come from London about that piece in the newspapers."
"There's no doubt he came down here to see one or other of them Horbury, most likely." "And who's to tell us anything?" asked Polke. "Miss Fosdyke's a relation of Horbury's," replied Starmidge. "She may know Hollis by name. Mr. Neale's always been in touch with Horbury he may have heard of Hollis. And so may the bankers." "The difficulty is to make them say anything," said Polke.
I got a taxi-cab driver to pull up by the kerb and wait for me, and told him who I was and what I was after, and that if those two got into a cab he was to follow wherever they went cautiously. Gave him a description of the man, you know. Then I hung round till they came out. They parted at once she went off up Regent Street " "I wish you'd had another man with you!" exclaimed Starmidge.
"I'll take this short cut back," said Starmidge. "I want to get to the post-office. Yes, sir!" he went on, as he and Neale slowly walked towards Betty. "I say he knew him! knew him, Mr. Neale, knew him! as soon as ever he clapped his eyes on him!" "You're very certain about it," said Neale. "Dead certain!" exclaimed the detective. "I was watching him purposely. I've taught myself to watch men.
It was growing near to dusk when all their necessary arrangements had been made, and Starmidge was free to seek his long-delayed dinner. He had put himself up, of his own choice, at a quiet and old-fashioned inn near the police-station, where he had engaged a couple of rooms and found a landlady to his liking.
You needn't be astonished if he suddenly stops and begins reading his book in the open street it's a habit of his." But the antiquary apparently had other business. He turned into the police-station, and when the three visitors followed him a moment later, he was already in Polke's private office, and Polke and Starmidge were gazing speculatively at him.
Starmidge was a young man of ideas as well as of ability, and without exactly shaping his thought in so many words, he felt vaguely perhaps, but none the less strongly that just as you can size up some men by the clothes they wear, so you can get an idea of others by the outer look of the houses which shelter them. Cornmarket in Scarnham lay at the further end of the street called Finkleway.
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