The Lake District Murder (British Library Crime Classics) (19 page)

The second document on his desk was a copper-plate copy of the Superintendent’s list of the Nonock customers. The Inspector, spreading out the two Bartholomew’s maps which covered the complete district, began the arduous task of locating the places and marking them on the maps with a tiny circle.

An hour and a half later, this task completed, he yawned widely, stretched his legs, and returned home to his customary high tea. It would mean another long and strenuous day on the morrow. A round of the garages and detailed arrangements for the placing and concealment of his watchers, a final conference over at Carlisle and a talk to Penrith about the runner who was to collect that all-important information from Dancy.

CHAPTER XIV

THE QUART IN THE PINT POT!

A
S
luck would have it, the following day was warm and sunny. Great masses of fleecy clouds floated idly through the deepest of blue skies, and the wrinkled faces of the higher fells stood out sharply in the tiniest detail. It was the first day of April and there was every promise of seasonable weather—bright periods alternating with typical April showers. The touch of spring in the air infused Meredith with more than his customary keenness and energy, and it was in something approaching a holiday mood that he and Railton, both in plain-clothes, set out on a tour of the Nonock garages.

They had already discussed their intended line of action. The towns were to be dealt with on foot, as the Inspector considered that this method of survey would attract less attention. Before leaving his office he had, therefore, rung through to the police-stations at Cockermouth, Whitehaven, Workington and Maryport and arranged for them to have a plain-clothes constable ready to act as local guide. The six country places were to be investigated by the simple expedient of calling at each of the garages and ordering a half-gallon of petrol. While this was being run into the tank of the combination, Meredith and the constable were to take in all the details of the near locality. If the tank of the motor-cycle became too full, then they were either to take in oil instead of petrol, or to run out some of the surplus spirit when a safe opportunity presented itself.

The Keswick garages were to be dealt with by the local Sergeant, and Meredith had already decided to keep an eye on the Lothwaite himself. Passing the Derwent on their way out that morning, he noticed that Higgins had evidently returned, for the garage doors were open and smoke was coming from the cottage chimneys. When they were well by the place, Meredith called out to Railton above the noise of the engine:

“I shall leave you to cover the Derwent to-morrow. You’ll have to use the motor-cycle, of course, and find some excuse for stopping if you notice the lorry drawn up in front of the pumps.”

Shortly after, as they sped by the Lothwaite, Meredith caught a glimpse of Wick, tinkering with an engine in the interior of the garage. Their first stop, however, was at the isolated garage between the railway arch and Stanley Hall. It was, in fact, named after the big house in the vicinity—the Stanley Hall Filling Station. Railton placed the order for petrol, whilst Meredith made a quick survey of the surrounds. He saw, at once, that the Superintendent was right. The place would have to be dealt with by a motor-cyclist. Except for the two low stone walls bordering the road, the locality was destitute of cover.

The Inspector also made a careful note of the man who came forward to serve them. But beyond the fact that he was small, wizened and white-haired there was nothing remarkable in his appearance.

At Cockermouth the guide was waiting and at the end of half an hour the four garages had been accounted for and detailed arrangements made for the posting of the watchers. They then drove on to the other isolated garage near Nepgill Colliery, where Meredith had soon endorsed the constable’s report which had gone into Carlisle. If, in the early hours before it was light, a man was introduced into the derelict barn, the garage across the road could be easily observed through the ventilation hole. The proprietor, in this case, proved to be a broad-shouldered individual, more like a farm-labourer than a mechanic. But his manner was free and pleasant and he seemed quite ready to stop and have a talk. Meredith noted that the name of the garage was the “Filsam”.

Thereafter they followed an unvarying routine. At the three remaining country places, all of which proved to be in villages, Railton drew up and ordered petrol or oil, whilst Meredith took note of suitable observation posts. The three big coast towns they covered on foot, sponsored by a local police guide, and by three o’clock the whole forty-two places had been accounted for.

Quite a number of the town garages, including two of the six licensed premises, were so situated that they could be kept under perfect observation by uniformed constables on point-duty. The remainder were, for the most part, in such populous districts of the towns that a casual lounger at a street corner would cause no comment.

Satisfied, at length, that he had drawn up a comprehensive report on the forty-two places and their environs, Meredith directed Railton to drive back as fast as possible to Keswick.

Shortly after four-thirty he was in touch with the Superintendent at Carlisle.

“My suggestion is this, sir,” went on Meredith, after he had made a concise report of his day’s work. “Except in those few cases where there is a fool-proof hiding-place, the men must hang about in the vicinity of their scheduled garage. Then when the lorry puts in an appearance they can stroll along until they are opposite the petrol-pumps. In most cases they will have a shop-window to look into or, failing that, they can stop and read a newspaper. But I think we can leave that more or less to the men’s own ingenuity. You agree, sir?”

“Perfectly. Since you were last on the phone I’ve arranged with Workington, Whitehaven, Maryport and Cockermouth stations to put their own men on to the garages in those particular localities. To avoid the risk of the constables being recognized, they are taking them from their usual districts and putting them on to watching those places where there’s little chance of their being known. We’re dealing with the country places from here. I suggest that you send over your written report at once. I’ll then run through it and issue the necessary orders to the various stations and include a copy of your report. We ought to have every man in position early to-morrow morning. They will then be able to get the lie of the land an hour or so before the lorry turns up. By the way, Meredith, the man that we intend to post in that barn should be in position before daylight.”

“That’s just what I thought, sir.”

“Any other point occurred to you?”

“Yes—one more, sir. I want each man to make a careful note of the time that elapses between the opening and the shutting of the valve on the lorry’s feed-pipe.”

“I don’t quite see—” began the Superintendent.

“Let me explain, sir,” offered Meredith; and in a few words he detailed his plans for arriving at a rough estimate of the profits accruing from the fraud.

The Superintendent then arranged to be over at Keswick by six o’clock the following evening. He further arranged that all reports, as soon as they were available, were to be phoned direct to the Keswick police station. After making sure that the Inspector had provided for the collecting of Dancy’s information, the Superintendent rang off.

An hour later Meredith had filled out his hastily scribbled notes on the day’s investigations into a clear and concise report. This done, he jumped into the waiting side-car and ordered Railton to drive him to the Penrith police station. The constable was then to rush the Inspector’s report over to Carlisle and return to pick up Meredith on his homeward run.

As soon as he had explained what he wanted, Sergeant Matthews detailed a plain-clothes constable to accompany Meredith to Careleton Street. It was then six-thirty and Meredith reckoned that Dancy would have had time enough to reach Eamont Villas. Leaving the constable on the corner opposite the pawnbrokers, the Inspector rapped on the door of No. 24. Dancy opened to him in person.

“I’ve got the man who is to collect your information just up the street, Mr. Dancy,” he said quickly. “I’d like you to slip out quietly in five minutes’ time and join us there. Just stroll up casually. I don’t want your neighbours to get curious.”

“Right,” was Dancy’s quiet answer. “In five minutes, sir.”

“You’ve got the first copy of advance-orders?”

“Yes.”

“Then bring it along with you.”

With this Meredith ambled off up the street and joined the constable, who was looking in the pawnbroker’s window. Five minutes later Dancy strolled along and the three men set off slowly together down a deserted side street. As they came within the lighted radius of a street-lamp, Meredith said softly:

“As we pass this lamp I want you to take a good look at the constable here. Understand, Mr. Dancy?”

Dancy nodded. When they had passed out of the light into the shadows again, Meredith added: “Now that copy.” He felt a folded piece of paper being thrust into his hand. Good. “No difficulty?”

“None,” answered Dancy.

“Don’t forget about the surplus—if any—to-morrow.”

“Right, sir.”

“The George, Devonshire Street, at twelve-thirty.”

“Right,” said Dancy again.

“Well,” announced the Inspector in a louder voice, “This is where we turn off. Good night, Mr. Dancy.”

“Good night,” replied Dancy heartily.

Back in Sergeant Matthews’s office, Meredith examined the paper which he had received from the yard-man. It told him all that he wanted to know. Five garages were listed, with their addresses, and opposite each name was written the number of gallons on order. The total load was one thousand gallons, split up into five deliveries of two hundred gallons each.

The Inspector was acutely disappointed. From his previous conversation with Dancy at the depot he knew that the capacity load of No. 4 was exactly one thousand gallons. And since there was now no room left in the tank for a fraudulent delivery, it followed that No. 4’s outing on the following day must be genuine.

Much as Meredith hoped otherwise, this in fact turned out to be the case. Shortly after six on Wednesday evening, when the final report had come into the Keswick station, Meredith and the Superintendent looked at each other and made a wry grimace.

“No luck!” observed the Superintendent dolefully. “Five advance orders and five deliveries. Looks as if the day’s work has gone west, Meredith. According to these reports, the lorry made no stop at any other garage or hotel.”

“Much as I anticipated, sir,” replied Meredith, equally depressed. “Particularly when Dancy handed over his mid-day note with ‘No surplus’ on it. If we
are
barking up the right tree, then it’s one of the gang’s off-days.”

“At any rate,” the Superintendent assured him, “we’ll carry through with the full programme. We may get a result to- morrow.”

“Friday, sir,” corrected Meredith. “Half-day to-morrow.”

“I was forgetting. Well, let’s fix Friday at six for our next meeting here, shall we?”

“Right, sir.”

On Thursday evening, after an annoyingly blank day, Penrith phoned through the contents of Dancy’s message, which had been slipped into the waiting constable’s hand by the pawnbroker’s shop earlier that evening.

When Meredith had jotted down the details and rung off, he sat for a long time staring dejectedly in front of him. Was No. 4 to go out every day with a capacity load? Were the advance orders always to total up to the full one thousand gallons? At the thought of this
contretemps
he cursed under his breath, angrily stuffed the tobacco into his pipe and began to pace up and down the room.

Did it mean that, after all his elaborate schemes, his theory was going to be violently knocked on the head? Had he led half the county police on a wild-goose chase? It would, in spite of the Superintendent’s ready collaboration, go hard with him at headquarters if these county-wide investigations were unproductive of result. Still, there were the facts staring him in the face. Four garages—three with two hundred gallons on order—one with four hundred—total load one thousand gallons—capacity of tank one thousand gallons. Where was the loophole for fraud in a perfectly orderly statement of that sort? The deliveries
must
be genuine. Already he could see Dancy handing over that confounded negative report to the constable outside the George—“No surplus”. So his great scheme had failed! Did it mean that the Chief’s theory of an illegal concern had also gone overboard? Meredith prayed heaven that this wasn’t the case—otherwise, where was he to look for the motive of the murder?

On the other hand, what about the report which had come in from Scotland Yard that morning? Two of the men suspected to be members of the gang had most certainly been through the hands of the Metropolitan Police. It was down there in black and white—William Bryant Rose, convicted of embezzlement—three years’ imprisonment. Joseph Bettle, alias Sam Shaw—two charges of petty larceny—one conviction—three months’ hard labour. Those facts in themselves surely lent colour to the Chief’s theory? If Rose had cooked his books once, why not again? Though Meredith was at a loss to see why Ormsby-Wright had engaged the man without inquiries into his past record. Be that as it may, Rose was once more in a position of trust and Meredith felt, that faced with a strong enough temptation, the man might easily pander again to the criminal streak in his make-up.

Bettle’s offences, though of a milder nature, threw an equally unfavourable light upon the man’s character. If it had been part of Rose’s job to engage the lorry-drivers, wasn’t Bettle just the type of man he would look for if he had a fraudulent scheme at the back of his mind? The men had served their sentences some eight years before and, according to Dancy, both the manager and the driver of No. 4 had been in the firm’s employ for a matter of seven years.

Wasn’t it significant that both Rose and Bettle had come North about the same time, in each case shortly after they had served a prison sentence? It looked as if London and the Home Counties had grown a little too warm to hold them. Hence this new start in Cumberland. Had they been acquainted before coming North? Was it possible that Rose had already planned the fraud before leaving London, but
after
he had received notification of his engagement to the Nonock Petroleum Company?