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Updated: June 3, 2025
At noon on the following day Trendall had an interview with Josef Blot, alias Weirmarsh, in his cell at Chelmsford, whither he had been conveyed by the police. What happened at that interview will never be known. It is safe to surmise, however, that the tragic letter of Harry Bellairs was shown to him Enid having withdrawn her request that no use should be made of it.
He could not doubt a single word that Trendall had told him, for the latter's information was beyond question. Well he knew with what care and cunning such an inquiry would have been made, and how every point would have been proved before being reported to that ever active man who was head of that Department of the Home Office that never sleeps.
"You seem to keep pretty close at the heels of your friend, the doctor of Vauxhall Bridge Road!" laughed Trendall, the director of the department, as they stood together in the big, airy, official-looking room, the two long windows of which looked out over Westminster Bridge. "You've been in France, Montgomery says. What was your friend doing there?"
"Yes; she was the woman who loved him so passionately," replied Trendall "Enid Orlebar." "Then you really suspect her?" asked Fetherston breathlessly. "Only as far as certain facts are concerned; and that since Harry's death she has been unceasingly interested in the career of the man Barker." "Are you quite certain of this?" gasped Fetherston. "Quite; it is proved beyond the shadow of a doubt."
Upon the steps stood four men in thick overcoats, all of whom Walter instantly recognised. With Trendall stood Sir Hugh Elcombe, while their companions were two detective-inspectors from Scotland Yard. "Hallo! Fetherston!" gasped Trendall. "I I expected to find Weirmarsh here! What has happened?" "The doctor is already here," was the other's quick reply.
Walter went on. "But," he added after a pause, "we did not arrive at any definite conclusion regarding the tragic death of Bellairs. What about that letter of his?" Trendall was thoughtful for a few minutes.
"My own idea is that a woman killed him." "Why?" cried Walter quickly. "What causes you to make such a suggestion?" "Well listen, and when I've finished you can draw your own conclusions." "HARRY BELLAIRS was an old friend of mine," Trendall went on, leaning back in his padded writing-chair and turning towards where the novelist was standing.
Had the plot succeeded, a very serious state of things must have resulted, for the whole of our paper currency would have been suspected. For that reason the authorities have, I understand, now that they have arrested the gang and seized their presses, decided to hush up the whole matter." "You know this?" asked Sir Hugh, suddenly brightening. "Yes, Trendall told me so this morning." "Ah!
"Well well, to tell the truth, our inquiries are not yet complete. When they are, we may be in a better position we probably shall be to put to her certain pointed questions. But," he added quickly, "perhaps I ought not to say this, for I know she is a friend of yours." "What you tell me is in confidence, as always, Trendall," he replied quickly.
"And you have succeeded, Sir Hugh," declared Trendall. "Indeed you have!" Shortly afterwards the excitement among the crowd waiting outside in the light of the head-lamps of the motor-cars was increased by the appearance of the doctor, escorted by two Maldon police officers in plain clothes.
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