The Man They Couldn't Arrest

"Give me that telephone," said Mercia quietly.

"You're going to play the game straight---- by me?" Asked Delbury, with a searching look into her eyes.

"I am going to play straight--- by my father," replied Mercia, in a voice so faint that the detective bȧrėly heard it.

He surrendered the telephone in silence.

"is that you, Mr. Dain? Mercia speaking. You wanted to speak to me," she said, striving to master the quiver in her voice.

"Yes, this is Valmon Dain, here," The voice at the other end was unemotional, almost coldly precise. Mercia felt an inward shudder at the cold austerity of it. Dain, even in the midst of tragedy, with the black shadow of the law looming great and omnipotent above him, was still the man of frosty restraint, the man with his thoughts and feelings under icy control. "I cannot talk to you personally," he went on steadily. "Something has happened which, were I to show myself at this juncture, would probably lead me to the gallows. That is a dreadfully serious thing to say, but I tell it to you in all honest sincerity. It is vitally necessary that I remain in seclusion for three months at the very least. As soon as I can legitimately break my silence I will. It will be a strange tale I shall have to tell. But untill then, I must ask you to preserve an open mind in your opinions, either of me or of what happened last night."

"But I---- I don't know what happened last night," said Mercia faintly.

"Yes, you do, my dear. Delbury has just told you." The voice had now become infinitely tender; there was a golden thread of solicitous gentleness softening the cold timber of it. "I have been waiting----- waiting here for what seemed hours, till you should have heard the news."

"But, Valmon----- Valmon, won't you please tell me what happened? my heart is almost bursting. please don't keep yourself behind this dreadful veil of mystery. surely you can tell me what the truth of it is."

"You know as much as anyone will know until I am free to talk and prove my innocence, my dear. you know that your father died last night in my house. you know that I am suspected of having murdered him. That, of course, is untrue, absurd. I ask you to believe that. your father came to my house last night with the deliberate intention of murdering me! He was warned that he was going to his own death. He---"

"But why, why, why? oh, for heaven's sake, Valmon, tell me why? why on earth should Daddy want to murder you--- you of all friends?"

"I cannot tell you why, my dear. for one thing, Delbury is there, listening to every words I say---- oh, never mind how I know. I do know, and that's all that matters and for another thing the shock of it would be almost as dreadful for you to bear as the news of his death. Let Delbury tell you that. It's his case, and therefore his job. I have no wish to relieve him of his dirty work. you might tell him that I have no rancour against him; I think he has done his best with a very difficult case. He has done a very delicate business with the utmost discretion. But apart from that, he is on the wrong track in suspecting me, the wrong track entirely. Mr. Lyall died by his own hand. More than that, I am not at liberty to say. Delbury has just told you that he intends issuing a warrant for my arrest. I cannot stop him doing that if course. But I tell him through you that it will be quite useless. The organization does not exist that could effect my arrest. you may even tell him this: That he can call off his watch at the ports. He has got men posted at every steamer gangway. Tell him he can recall them with every safety. I shall stay here in London until such time as my mission is accomplished. Goodbye, Mercia. After this awful business is over, and you understand things a little more clearly than you do now, I shall very anxious to know whether you would care to see me again. until then, of course, you will be hating the very sound of my name. Goodbye."

Mercia wheeled round with a sudden cry.

"He has rung off----"

Delbury shrugged. "I could hear something of his conversation," he said, with a moody frown. "And I'm blessed if I know what to make of it. How the devil did he know I was here? How the devil did he know I was applying for his warrant? This case seems to be full up to the eyes with witchcraft, hoodoo, and black magic."

He took the phone from her.

"Hello, exchange!" he barked. "That the Highgate exchange? Scotland Yard officer speaking here. About that call that just came through on this line, find out where it came from, will you please? Get the number and make dead sure. Hurry!"

In a few seconds the answer came through. "That call originated from a public call-box in a Kingsway hotel."

"Damn!" said Delbury savagely. "Lost him again. This house seems to be hunted with bad luck for me."

Mercia touched his arm. she was looking straight into his eyes, a calm, steady look that was almost pathetic in it's appeal for truth. .

"Mr. Delbury, what did Mr. Dain mean when he said that Daddy went to his house to murder him---- for a particular reason? why wouldn't he tell me what that reason was? what did he mean when he said the shock would be even greater than the news of his death? I want to know. you know and you are hiding it from us. we both have a perfect right to know, and I, at least, demand to be told--- now!"

Delbury returned Mercia"s gaze with something that amounted to a glint of warning in his eyes.

"Miss Lyall," he said, very deliberately, "you would not like me to tell you the reason for Valmon Dain's silence. And I, personally, have no wish to broach the matter when so many of the essential facts are still hidden behind the blackest of fogs. For all I know the entire police case may be at fault-- as things are shaping now, indeed, it almost looks as though the whole of our theories are founded on erroneous supposition. only Time can show that."

"But surely there can be no harm in telling us what you believe to be the truth?"

Delbury turned a worried face to Mrs. Lyall.

"Madam, there will be an inquest," he said. "I think you had better leave all further inquiries till then. you may be required to give evidence."

"Then I shall utterly refuse to say a single word until I am made thoroughly conversant with the happenings---- and the motives---- of last night. I quite agree with my daughters view. if we may not be told, then I don't know who in the world has any right to know---- the coroner or anybody else. I shall flatly decline to give evidence."

The detective fingered his chin helplessly. He was torn between two minds. Undoubtedly these two women had a perfect right to know the truth---- equally undoubtedly he hadn't the faintest idea whether it was the truth or not.