Chapter XVIII

SHOWING HOW ARTHUR WHARTON MET HIS FRIEND AGAIN, AND HOW THE ARREST
OF A CRIMINAL IS NOT ALWAYS WELCOME

Superintendent Wilson got to his office early on the morning on which he had arranged to have his interviews with Lord Ealing and Arthur Wharton, but on his arrival he found General Bunker, Chief of the Special Branch, already awaiting him. Bunker was obviously in a high state of excitement, and immensely pleased with himself. His first words told his exciting news.

"I've got your man, Wilson," he said. "Got him. Just in time, too. He'd have been out of the country before you could say Jack Robinson."

"May I ask, my dear General, whom you have got?"

"Why, Rosenbaum. Two of my men nabbed him at Liverpool last night."

"My dear Bunker, this is ... fine. I suppose you really have got the right man?"

"Oh, not a doubt of it. The fellow was trying to slink out of the country. He was living in Streatham, and posing as a respectable citizen. There are hundreds of these infernal Bolshevik agitators in our midst, in the pay of Lenin and the Germans."

"Yes, yes. But I thought we had looked pretty thoroughly into the records of all the Rosenbaums in London."

"My dear Wilson, that's just where you went wrong. Of course the fellow doesn't call himself Rosenbaum. He says his name is Rose. But my men soon spotted him as one of these crypto-Jew alien enemies in our midst. As I was saying----"

"Quite, quite. How did you discover that this man Rose----"

"Rosenbaum. Give him his proper name."

"That this man was connected with the crime?"

"Ah, that's where our files came in. We have the completest record of all these fellows and their aliases. Now, I found that this man, who calls himself Rose, is the head of a firm called Lewis and Smith--Levi and Schmid, obviously--trading with Sweden and the Baltic. 'Ha!' I said to myself, 'Russian agents, what!' I went into the thing carefully, and I found--what do you think--that this man Rosenbaum was fined during the war for showing lights to guide enemy aeroplanes during raids."

"Fined, you say? It seems an inadequate punishment."

"Oh, of course, he said it was only a servant's negligence had left a window imperfectly covered. They all said that. As soon as I found he was a Hun, I put half a dozen men on the job. He was away from home all the night of the murder, and his cook says he came back with a big trunk on the following day, and hid it in an outhouse. One of my men made up to the cook. Wormed it out of her. Sharp work that!"

"Have you found the trunk?"

"Of course the trunk's gone now. Not had time to trace it yet. I only got wind of this yesterday, and heard at the same time that this chap was starting off on a journey. My men tracked him to Euston, where he booked for Liverpool. One of them shadowed him up in the train, while the others dashed back, saw me, and got a warrant. He was arrested in Liverpool last night. They are bringing him and his luggage back to London by the first train. He'll be here before lunch-time."

"Very smart work, Bunker, if only it's the right man, as I hope it is. The Special Branch seems to have stolen a march on us this time."

"Not bad, I think," said Bunker, preening himself before the fire.

At this moment, there was a knock at the door, and an attendant ushered in Lord Ealing. That nobleman looked at the two officials, and greeted them affably. Wilson's response was cold, but General Bunker was far too full of his achievement to keep it to himself for a moment.

"Hallo, Ealing," he said. "Glad to see you. Got a bit of news for you, too. Little bit of smart work. We've arrested Rosenbaum. Now things'll be coming out, eh?"

Lord Ealing stopped dead in his advance, and stared at the two men. For an instant he went white, and made an inarticulate utterance, that sounded half like consternation. Then, rapidly recovering himself, he smiled at the General. "Upon my word, Bunker, that's good news. One couldn't rest easy with that fellow at large. Have you found ... anything else?"

"Oh, Rosenbaum's enough to be going along with. We'll soon get the whole story out of him. The fellow's a German spy as well as a Bolshevik agitator. You bet we will make him tell all he knows."

"Not much to tell, is there? The case seems pretty plain."

Lord Ealing's discomfiture on first hearing the news of Rosenbaum's arrest did not escape Wilson's notice. He could not mistake the signs. Lord Ealing was afraid. But what the devil was he afraid of? What could Rosenbaum tell that would adversely affect Lord Ealing? And what connection had his fears with his sinister meddling with Hugh Radlett's papers after the crime, or with that curious action of his in trying to get at Pasquett behind the backs of the police? Wilson determined to get rid of Bunker quietly and put Lord Ealing through a careful, but quite polite, little examination. He could not see light, but that might help him.

Bunker, however, would not go. There he stayed, planted on the hearth-rug, explaining at infinite length to Lord Ealing the prowess of the Special Branch. And Wilson could see that Lord Ealing, under cover of listening, was thinking hard, and that he was obviously anxious to find out all he could about Rosenbaum's arrest and arrival in London. Was he trying to find a way, Wilson wondered, of getting at Rosenbaum, as he had sought to get at Pasquett, before Rosenbaum gave away to the police something he did not want them to know?

Wilson had just made up his mind to put his questions to Lord Ealing even in Bunker's presence, when there was another knock at the door, and the attendant showed in John Pasquett. Wilson shook hands, and introduced "General Bunker, head of the Special Branch." Then he said to Pasquett, "By the way, your mission is apparently at an end. The General has just told me he has arrested Rosenbaum."

Pasquett was still standing, but at these words he sat down suddenly in the nearest chair. "Arrested Rosenbaum?" he said, and stared blankly at Wilson.

"Yes, at Liverpool," said Bunker. "He was trying to leave the country."

For a moment Pasquett said no more. Then he seemed to pull himself together. "Forgive me," he said. "I was struck all of a heap by what you said. It seemed too good to be true.... Is there any trace of Hugh Radlett?" he added anxiously.

"At present, Mr. Pasquett, we know only that the man has been arrested."

"Then you don't even know for certain whether poor Hugh is dead."

"This man brought a trunk back home on the day of the crime, and concealed it in an outhouse," said Bunker.

"You have searched it? Was Hugh's body----"

"We have not found it yet, Mr. Pasquett. But we shall. Having got the man----"

"At once," said Pasquett. "You must lose no time. Hugh may be still alive. General, I entreat you to lose no time."

Bunker at length agreed to send one of his men down to Streatham at once to make a further search, and left the room to arrange for this. Wilson seemed to cheer up immediately Bunker was out of the room. He took Pasquett into the inner room, to show him certain of the papers bearing on the case. Lord Ealing was left alone.

Yet another knock at the door, and the attendant showed in Arthur Wharton. Seeing his uncle alone, he expressed his surprise, and repeated in a low voice the apology he had already made in a brief note written the night before for having revealed the fact that Lord Ealing had sent him to Warsaw.

"A pretty muddle you've made of things," said Lord Ealing. "I thought you had more sense."

"I couldn't tell the fellow a pack of lies," said Arthur.

"Why not?" said his uncle.

At this moment Wilson came back into the room, leaving Pasquett in the inner apartment, where he was going over the papers. "Ah," he said, "now I have you both together, there's one little matter I want you to clear up. You sent Mr. Wharton to Warsaw, I believe, to look for Mr. Pasquett?"

Lord Ealing nodded.

"How did you know Mr. Pasquett was in Warsaw?"

Lord Ealing smiled. "The answer is very simple, Wilson. I did not know. But Franklin remembered Radlett had said something about business in Warsaw, and it occurred to me that Mr. Pasquett might possibly be there. So, as I was sending Arthur there on business in any case, I told him to make a few inquiries. It did not seem worth while to mention the matter to you. I should have told you at once, of course, if anything had come of it."

"Nothing did, then?"

"Nothing at all. Pasquett had left Warsaw when Arthur arrived."

"Then you did not find him, Mr. Wharton?"

"No. I'm afraid I'm a bad sleuth," said Arthur. And he gave a brief account of his experiences.

"It's a pity you did not tell me of this, my lord," said Wilson. His manner was a plain "Don't let it happen again."

Lord Ealing changed the subject. "If Pasquett is still in the next room," he said, "I very much want my nephew to meet him. Shall we perform the introduction here?"

Wilson agreed, and the three men went into the adjoining room, where Pasquett, with his back towards them, was busy over Radlett's papers. He did not look round as they entered.

"Pasquett," said Lord Ealing, "I want to introduce to you my nephew, Arthur Wharton."

Arthur put his hand forward, and Pasquett turned round with outstretched hand. Then the two men each fell back and stared.

Arthur laughed. "Mr. Pasquett and I have met before," he said.

"Indeed we have," said Pasquett, "and I am delighted to renew the acquaintance."

"Where on earth have you managed to meet?" said Lord Ealing.

"Why, we were travelling companions all the way from Paris to Warsaw," said Arthur. "Do you know, Mr. Pasquett, I was hunting the world for you, and I was with you all that time without having an idea who you were."

Wilson struck in. "Do you say you travelled with Mr. Pasquett from Paris to Warsaw? When was that?"

"On the day following the discovery of the crime," said Arthur.

Wilson turned to Pasquett. "But I thought you were in Warsaw when the crime was committed?"

"Oh, no," said Pasquett. "I was in France--at Paramé, to be precise. I left for Warsaw, as Mr. Wharton says, the day after. Of course, I had heard nothing of it, or I should have come to England at once."

"Where do you say you were, Mr. Pasquett?" asked Wilson. "I mean on the night of the crime."

"I was at Paramé," said Pasquett, "Paramé in Normandy. I was staying there with my friends, the Culpeppers."

"Culpepper? But he was in London."

"Yes. I was staying with Mrs. and Miss Culpepper."

"Why did you not tell me this before, Mr. Pasquett?"

"Upon my word, Superintendent, I hardly knew I had not. I had no idea you thought I was in Warsaw at the time of the murder. I had no idea it mattered where I was. I was only in Warsaw a few hours. Miss Culpepper saw me off at Paris."

"That was Miss Culpepper, was it?" said Arthur.

For the fourth time there was a knock at the door, and an attendant came in. "General Bunker's compliments, sir, and the prisoner 'as arrived, and 'e would like for you to come and see 'im with the other gentlemen, sir."

Wilson had been through a morning of surprises. He wanted time to think things over before he could re-adjust his mind. But Rosenbaum must be seen at once. "We will come," he said, and led the way down the corridor.