Free Missing or Murdered by Robin Forsythe Page B

the various drawers one after the other. A glance revealed the contents of each. He saw nothing of importance in any until he came to the drawer that had been broken open with the aid of a screwdriver. Here were various bundles of letters and papers all tied with white cord. He carefully examined the knots that bound the bundles. Heather was right—they were all reef-knots except the last, which was a granny. What could be deduced from this fact? Either that Lord Bygrave, who, Vereker knew, had once been a very keen yachtsman, had been in a great hurry when retying that particular bundle with the granny, or that the drawer had been broken open and that bundle opened and retied by some one else. Vereker took out all the bundles from the drawer, placed them on the writing-table and untied them all. He would glance through their contents rapidly and see if anything could be gleaned from the perusal. The task proved fruitless. He could find nothing in their contents that bore in any way upon the Bygrave case.
    He rose and examined the marks made by the screw-driver in breaking open the drawer; it had been a thoroughly inexpert job—the clumsiest piece of work imaginable.
    At this moment he was conscious of the presence of somebody behind him—a light footfall on the thick carpet had been detected by his extraordinarily quick ear. He glanced swiftly at a dark steel engraving above the bureau and in its glass saw Farnish standing near the door. Without turning round, or exhibiting any surprise in his voice, Vereker calmly said:
    â€œI’ve been looking through his lordship’s papers, Farnish; but I’ve drawn blank. I shall be glad if you will tie up all these bundles for me again and leave them here on the table. I may have another run through them before turning in tonight.”
    â€œYes, sir. I’ve just come up to tell you that Mr. Grierson has arrived and would like to see you.”
    â€œShow him into the library—I’ll be with him as soon as I have washed my hands.”
    Farnish departed as silently as he had arrived, and as Vereker was washing his hands, some moments later, he thought to himself:
    â€œI’m afraid I was too quick for you, Farnish, that time. Even then, I failed to surprise >you —your face was simply petrified unconcern. You’re a marvel, Farnish, a marvel!”
    In the library, Mr. Grierson was awaiting Vereker’s arrival with unmistakable anxiety.
    â€œHave you heard or found out anything about my Chief?” he asked as Vereker shook hands with him.
    â€œAbout Lord Bygrave we’ve heard not a word, Mr. Grierson. A number of suspicious facts have gradually disclosed themselves, but none of them gives direction to a fruitful line of inquiry. We can only go on in the hope that when we have secured more information certain parts of it will cohere and shape themselves into a definite theory in our minds.”
    â€œWhat does Inspector Heather think of it all?”
    â€œI don’t know; he only discloses his discoveries to me very much as a lighthouse, with an intermittent flash, throws out a beam into the darkness for the passing ship. I have a vague idea where he is and I suppose he thinks that is quite sufficient for a mere amateur investigator to know.”
    â€œOh, I’m sorry to hear that you’ve not made better progress. I expected to come down and find that the Scotland Yard people would be able to say that they might be able to discover Lord Bygrave at any moment.”
    â€œThey may for all I know,” replied Vereker. “I wish I could say the same of my own investigations.”
    Mr. Grierson’s face grew grave and he was silent for some moments.
    â€œThere is one aspect of the case which has troubled me considerably of late, Mr. Vereker, and it was the chief factor in deciding me to come down here to-day. The more I thought of it the more I was convinced that it was necessary I should come and give you