Chapter XII: Richard Bessington on the Scene

Richard Bessington's first act on arriving at Ardenmore was to apologize to Hermione for breaking his compact.

"On my own account I would not have come," he explained, as they stood together outside the house, while the chauffeur took Crosby's car--lent for the occasion--round to the garage. "Unless, of course, you had asked me. But it was on Inspector Mackay's advice that I came and for no other reason."

"Inspector Mackay!" she repeated blankly. "But what on earth has he to do with you?"

"He realizes how interested I am in this smuggling business, and he knows that--as a good citizen--I am all out for helping the police to track them down. So he practically asked me to undertake a small job for him which is better done by a civilian."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand," said Hermione. "What can you or anyone do that the police are unable to undertake?"

"Well, to put it quite simply, in this rather out-of-the-way part of the world, policemen are regarded with suspicion by the natives--we are not. Therefore, if Inspector Mackay or any of his men were to come round asking awkward questions--I mean awkward for anyone who had something to hide--the odds are that they would get nothing for their pains. Whereas, let you or I or Daneham do the same thing, we might achieve something."

"I begin to see what you mean," replied Hermione, who had every intention of showing outward friendship for this man whom she feared. "And yet, what is there that we can do, or who is there who might be suspected?"

"Well, but it was Daneham, wasn't it, who suggested to Mackay that it looked as though someone living here or hereabouts was in league with the gang of smugglers, and that if the watch was called off, perhaps we might see fresh developments."

"Ah! I understand now." She paused for a moment wondering what she should say--what to tell him, how much or how little. She and Frank had agreed together, after dispatching the wire telling him to come, that if the subject of smuggling was mentioned, it might be better not to say anything about their experiences of the night before, as it was a matter which--if referred to at all--should be told only to the police, and neither of them were willing, for the moment, to say anything about it. Phillimore had been asked to keep it quiet, on the plausible grounds that if the police were told they would at once set a watch there again, and so long as a watch was kept and information concerning it given to the gang, so long would they keep away. Whereas, by saying nothing, and waiting, the probability was that they would return, and then there would be time enough to get the police on to the scene.

All this was agreed upon between them before the advent of Richard Bessington, but now that his purpose in coming was explained--and Hermione had no reason to doubt the truth of his statement--it altered matters. It made it almost a necessity to tell him the truth, for it did not seem like playing the game to keep him in ignorance. There was smuggling going on and it was a Frenchman who was at the head of it, not Dominic Arden, and there seemed to be nothing now to connect him with the matter. They had, therefore, nothing to fear from Bessington. So, turning frankly to him, she told him of what had occurred on the previous night.

He was genuinely astonished and horrified and at once put the obvious question.

"But, my dear Hermione, why have you not sent for Mackay?"

She gave him the same reason that had been given to Phillimore and he agreed that it was sound as far as it went.

"And it looks uncommonly," he added, "as if you have seen the last of them. For since this Frenchman knows you are on the watch he won't be such a fool as to come back now that he has got safely away. It seems, in fact, that I shall do no good by making any inquiries. And yet Mackay is confident that something is wrong, and it seems that he is right, too."

"Frank thinks the man will come back, if not now, later. But, of course, he will only come if his informant here can assure him that no one is on the look out. He will know that we ourselves can't be for ever on the watch, and apparently their hiding-place is so secure that he can afford to laugh at anyone who tries to catch him."

"Quite. So that our best plan would be to try and find out who is helping him." He smiled down at her, drinking in the beauty of her, wondering if this was at last the first step in a campaign that would end in capitulation on her part, triumphant possession for him.

"You had better come in and see Frank," she said, ignorant of what was passing through his mind, eager only to play the game as it should be played, and as she could play it so long as danger to one who might still be living was not involved. "Come into the smoking-room, I think he is there, and we can talk over and think out the most likely people, and then we can go round and see what we can do. I am just as anxious to get to the bottom of this mystery as you are. I came here for peace and quiet and so far I have had just the opposite."

"Poor little woman. I understand, and I'll do all in my power to help. Do you know, I rather believe that Mackay has a kind of suspicion that you are in league with the smugglers." Here he looked down into her eyes and smiled. "And that is why you bought this place. It was all I could do not to roar with laughter when he half-suggested it."

"No, really? Did he? Well, I thought he seemed odd, but I put it down to the natural suspicions of his calling. How absurd. And yet, I suppose it would strike some people as rather extraordinary."

They had turned and entered the house, and in the hall, Bessington put a hand on her arm and stayed her.

"One moment, while we are alone. No. Don't be frightened. Our compact holds good and I am not going to talk on forbidden subjects. But I do want you to tell me your honest reason for buying this god-forsaken place and burying yourself in it in this way."

"I did tell you," she replied, trying to keep the anxiety, which she suddenly felt at his question, from her voice. "I wanted to get away from people and the sordid things that are associated with the wealthy. Remember, Dick, that I am horribly, horribly rich, that everyone knows it, and that if I did not take action in this rather drastic manner, my life would be made a burden to me. I was simply sick of it all. That is my reason. What other could there be?"

"But, my dear girl, there were other means at your disposal. A yachting trip alone with your friend, Iza, if you wanted. There was a villa in Italy; there was Egypt, India, the whole world for you to choose from."

"I knew them all. Or at least, most of them; Lady Maude took me there. Besides, I wanted rest, and as for a yacht! My dear Dick, I am the most appalling sailor and I should simply have hated it."

"I see. That is, then honestly your reason?"

"Why! How ridiculous. Do you think I would lie to you? Why should I, and what do you mean?" A touch of annoyance had taken the place of anxiety in her tone now, and he was quick to notice it.

"Nothing, nothing," he replied, abruptly. "Of course I believe you. I asked because it has been not only puzzling me but a good many other people, too."

"Then I wish those other people would mind their own business," she said petulantly. "All I ask is to be left alone--in peace."

"And what you get is to find yourself in the very centre of a sensational smuggling mystery," he replied, with a laugh. "Poor Hermione. Well, never mind. We'll see what we can do to wing these beggars and ensure you the rest and peace you want. So, let us to business."

His tone was natural, easy, and most friendly, and yet Hermione was not sure that he was satisfied with her answer. Also, she wondered if he had an ulterior motive in asking what he had done, and then justly considered that her own suspicion of him was fathered by the very fact of her own half-truth, and that she herself was withholding something from him and, in fact, doing exactly what she was accusing him in her heart of doing. She was honest with herself about that, and determined to make amends and to take him at his word. Nothing else on her part would be justifiable.

So they turned into the smoking-room, and Frank Daneham rose from the writing-table where he had been finishing some letters, and greeted the newcomer, if not cordially, at least in a passably friendly manner.

"What brings you over here, Bessington?" he asked, after they had shaken hands. Briefly the other explained what he had already explained to Hermione, and she in her turn added that she had told him of what had happened on the previous night.

Frank nodded, instantly guessing her reason. After all, he had no grounds--beyond the fact that Bessington had shown curiosity to the inspector--for supposing that he had come over for any other reason than the one he had stated. Certainly, it was a sufficiently good one. Mackay had asked him to do what he could and therefore Hermione had been right in telling him of what had occurred. There were no two ways about that.

"It's a rum affair altogether, isn't it?" he said. "My only fear is that the fellow was speaking the truth when he said he was finished with the job. Only, somehow, my knowledge of human nature makes me doubt it. I can imagine the danger, excitement, and risk of the adventure gaining such a hold on a fellow of his stamp and mentality that he would find it difficult or nearly impossible to give up. Also it must be a very paying game."

"Undoubtedly. You are probably right. In my opinion, if we could clip his wings, or better still, send out false information by getting hold of his accomplice here and either bribing or threatening him into sending it--and people of that sort have their price--we shall succeed in laying him by the heels. The question is where to find this accomplice."

"There are very few to choose from, when one comes to think of it," replied Daneham. "So, as we have an hour before lunch, I propose that we four--I'll get hold of Iza, who has a keen business head--get down to the sifting of them." He left the room at that and returned almost immediately with the lady in question.

"A council of war, I understand," she said, as she shook hands with Bessington. "And about time we did something, too. When innocent people are drugged and otherwise ill-treated, apparently with impunity, it's about time to take action. And though, personally, I have no grievance against the young man who presented Hermione and me with that bundle of priceless stockings, still I own that the Government has a very big one, and I suppose that in honour one is bound to help. So, to begin with, you can rule me out of your possible suspects, though I can't own to a clean sheet where the Dover Customs are concerned. But I draw the line at wholesale smuggling because I shouldn't make a success of it."

"One is glad to hear that, anyway," replied Daneham. "Let us take the servants first. All new, all English, except the cook, who is Irish."

"And old Betty," added Hermione.

"She is hardly to be numbered among the household, as she only comes in to help and lives outside. The Mackenzies at the farm consist of--Donald, the farmer, his wife, two kids and the old mother. Donald, from what I have seen of him, appears to be a staunch upholder of Law and Order and is the last man to suspect. His wife the same. The mother too old for that kind of game, the kids too young. Farmhands negligible, but probably worth interviewing. Gardeners all new to the place, and therefore ruled out. Keeper's Lodge at present empty and no ghillies on the place as yet. Ardenmore village--this I have discovered from the chauffeur, James--consists of a tiny kirk; a small post office whose mistress also keeps a general store; about a dozen cottages in which dwell the usual assortment of crofters--not the kind of people to risk their liberty in a business of that kind; a pub, owned by an ultra-respectable publican. Hardly, in my opinion, worth visiting."

"So far, It doesn't sound very promising," agreed Bessington.

"And even if there were any suspects among them," added Iza Marsh, "I doubt if you would get any forrarder if you did visit them. Also, I think you are beginning at the wrong end."

"Tell us, Marshy, where you would start," said Hermione.

"Well, who told you, or said anything in the first place, about smuggling at all?" asked the elder woman.

"Actually it was Mr. Bray. But surely you don't suspect him?"

"Suspect him? Fiddlesticks. One couldn't even suspect him of a harmless flirtation with an underhouse-maid, let alone an enterprising stunt like smuggling. No. What I want to get at is, who told him about it; and then on down to bed-rock."

"I can't possibly answer that. He said there was a rumour about it, that lights had been seen and a mysterious car."

"Originating probably from old Mrs. Mackenzie," observed Daneham. "Anyone else say anything about it?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then of a sudden her face lit up.

"Why, yes, of course, Betty MacIvor said something about it on the night we arrived. She told me that no one dare go near the old tower, because there was something there that scared people, and she herself was apparently quite frightened about it."

Bessington laughed, and it was not a pleasant laugh.

"She was apparently warning you about it?" he suggested.

"Yes. I thought so at the time."

"Exactly," the colonel turned to Iza Marsh. "You are right," he said. "That was the end to start from. Why should this person, Betty, wish to keep people away from the tower unless she had a good reason for doing so? If she is the accomplice we are looking for, so long as the smuggling went on she is money in pocket. Who is the woman?"

"She was here in--in the Arden's time," said Hermione, and then glanced hurriedly at Bessington. He met her eyes and a queer expression crossed his face.

"Here in the Ardens' time?" he repeated. "Then she knows you?"

"I saw her here once, that is all, and I don't think she saw me. She knows nothing of my--my former life." Again they looked at each other and she saw suspicion dawn in his eyes. It was then that she realized that he also suspected what she had so nearly believed about Dominic Arden, and his next words confirmed it.

"I think we shall have no trouble in locating the go-between," he said quietly. "For many reasons--" these two words were emphasized--"it is quite possible to believe that the woman, Betty MacIvor, is the guilty party. I, personally, am pretty sure of it." And an odd smile exposed his gleaming teeth.