Free The Lake District Murder (British Library Crime Classics) by John Bude

Lothwaite, sir?”
    “That’s the place, and those briefly are the facts of the case. You see the similarity between the two tragedies? In each case the men are partners in a garage business. In both cases the garages are isolated. Both Wick and Higgins impress themselves on us as suspicious characters. Whether there is anything in this or not I can’t say. But you see how it supports the Chief’s theory that there may be some sort of criminal gang behind these two mysteries?”
    The Inspector nodded slowly. As he had not been attached to the district at the time, he had heard nothing about this previous case, but now that he knew the facts his brain was already working full speed ahead to further the link between the two crimes.
    “There’s just one point, sir. Do you remember if this man, Peterson, left any money? I mean, a decent little pile.”
    The Superintendent grinned.
    “I guessed you were going to ask that, Inspector. And I’ve got the answer ready for you. He did! A considerable amount. Round about one thousand five hundred pounds, if I remember rightly.” He turned to the Chief Constable. “You see, sir, I hadn’t mentioned this point before because it was only a few moments back that the Inspector informed us about Clayton’s little nest-egg.”
    “Well, it only goes to make the coincidence more remarkable,” was the Chief Constable’s observation. “I don’t want to be unduly optimistic—it’s a dangerous policy—but I’m inclined to believe that we’ve hit on something. And something pretty big by the look of it.”
    Meredith hastened to agree and for some few minutes the trio continued to discuss the strange similarity of the two cases. Finally, after glancing at his watch, the Chief Constable rose from his chair and intimated that it was time he was on his way.
    “And the future of the case, sir?” asked the Inspector.
    “I’ve already made up my mind on that point, Meredith. I don’t think we are justified in applying to the Home Office for a Yard man. After all, you know the district and all the facts of the case are in your possession, so I see no reason why you shouldn’t handle the case yourself.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “You have a certain amount to go on,” continued the Chief Constable, “and I daresay that notice of yours in the local papers will bring somebody forward. In my opinion, you want to find out who exactly was in the vicinity of the garage between the hours of seven-thirty and, say, ten-thirty. Then run the tape over them. Let’s see, the mid-weekly editions come out on Wednesday, don’t they?”
    “That’s it, sir—to-morrow. And I shouldn’t be surprised if we know something more inside another twenty-four hours.”
    “Quite. Well, I can’t do more than wish you luck with the case, Meredith. Just one piece of advice—stick at it. It’s the only way to get results.”
    As the little group moved toward the door the Superintendent added: “By the way, I’ve left those cuttings. You’ll find them interesting. If I were you, I should take a look at the Lothwaite as soon as you can. I shall be over in time for the inquest to-morrow, Inspector.”
    As soon as the big, blue saloon had purred off in the direction of Carlisle, Meredith strode back energetically to his office and threw himself into the task of drawing up a clear and comprehensive report of his investigations. He was pleased and rather flattered by the confidence which the Chief had placed in his ability. More than ever he was determined to get to the root of the problem—not only the problem of Clayton’s death but the mystery which surrounded the source of that £2,000. Already he was beginning to think that the two problems might be in some way connected. And further, that the tragedy at the Derwent was in some inexplicable way linked up with the two-year-old tragedy at the Lothwaite.
    After a hurried lunch at his home in Greystoke Road, the Inspector returned to the police station.