The Man They Couldn't Arrest

"why not?"

"well, I knew that he had gone out to Hendon, you see."

"oh!" Delbury looked his surprise. "And how did you know that?" he asked.

"A man rang up---- somebody I've never seen or heard of before rang up and asked me if dad had got home yet from Hendon. That was the first I knew that he had not gone to bed all night."

"What?" Delbury jumped. "A man rang up?" he snapped.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. I'd tell you if I did. A coarsely spoken man; he referred himself as the gent from Notting hill."

"Good Lord! Tansy," breathed Delbury. "so that's where he got the wire from. miss Lyall, do you know that by answering that telephone you have let one of the worst criminals in London slip through our fingers?"

"I wasn't aware of it, but I couldn't help it even if I did. But in what way does all this concern my father? I think I have answered quite enough of your questions. And really I cannot tax my anxiety any longer. something has happened to dad. something dreadful. I know it has. I knew it the moment I opened my eyes this morning. And if you won't tell me I shall ring up Mr. Dain and find out myself."

"No, you won't miss. Mr. Dain won't answer any phone calls from you or anyone else. I've learned all I want to know, thank you. There will be a warrant out for the arrest of Mr. Valmon Dain within an hour of my leaving this house."

"A warrant? But, good Heavens, what on Earth for?"

"Murder, miss. just that.... must I say anything more?"

Mercia looked at him, standing there in front of her chair, cold and deadly, the very embodiment of the law in all it's callous, brutal Reality. in one horrified moment she held her gaze to his eyes, then, without a sound except a deep, heart wrenching sigh, she relaxed in a limo heap in her chair.

Delbury went over quietly and rang the bell. He had altered every single opinion he had ever held regarding Mercia Lyall during the short ten minutes of that interview.

Mercia, throughout that cross examination, had spoken nothing but the truth. she had spoken it innocently, frankly, sometimes disarmingly. And the only fact that emerged from the chaos of jumbled thoughts in the detective's mind was that he was still as far from a solution to the murder of williard Lyall as ever he was. if anything, this case had become even more complicated.

A servant appeared, one of the maids, with her head wrapped in a dusting sheet. it was evidently "turning out" day at Greydene.

Mercia was in the armchair just behind the door. The maid could not see her. she paused in the doorway in slight surprise. apparently the maid who had let him in had not dare to spread the news through Greydene that a Scotland Yard man was in the house.

"will you please ask your mistress to see me for a moment?" asked Delbury. The maid gave a half scared peep inside the door and saw Mercia sitting in the chair like a dead thing. her face white as chalk and her eyes staring dully ahead in a vacancy of horror and unbelief.

The maid nodded and hurried out.

In a few moments Mrs. Lyall appeared. she had been waiting for the summons to the library. she bowed slightly as she came in.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lyall" said Delbury respectively, "I think you knew I had arrived.?"

"my daughter informed me before she came down to see you. she gave your card... inspector Delbury, I believe?"

"yes, madam. if you will excuse me a moment I will speak to one or two of your servants. I think miss Lyall requires your presence alone for a little while. she has had a very bad shock, and I think she would rather tell you about it herself than let you hear it from me. I would like to assure you that I sympathise deeply with you both in this matter, and anything my department can do to help you will be done Willingly. will you please ring when you feel you can talk to me? much as I regret it, I'm afraid I must have a few minutes with you before I go."

The detective turn away abruptly and went out of the room. the dumb poignancy of those two helpless women had jarred the hardness out of him to a greater extent than he knew.

"Mercia my darling, what can have happened? please, please tell me what all this means." Mrs. Lyall was on her knees besides Mercia's chair, her hand clutching convulsively at the girl's arm, a look of unutterable dread in her face.

mercia whispered the shocking news to her. she did not look at her mother's eyes. she could not. the shock, the calamity of it, was still scorching the very soul of her. for her it was almost as though the end of the world had come. what it meant to her mother she dared not think.