The Hampstead Mystery | Page 9

father's country estate, taking an
interest in the villagers or walking the country-side with half a dozen
dogs at her heels.
Rumour had not spared the dead judge's name. It was said of him that
he was fond of ladies' society, and especially of ladies belonging to a
type which he could not ask his daughter to meet; that he used to go out
motoring, driving himself, after other people were in bed; and that
strange scenes had taken place at Riversbrook. Flack had told his wife
on several occasions that he had heard sounds of wild laughter and
rowdy singing coming from Riversbrook as he passed along the street
on his beat in the small hours of the morning. Several times in the early
dawn Flack had seen two or three ladies in evening dress come down
the carriage drive and enter a taxi-cab which had been summoned by
telephone.
CHAPTER IV

When Rolfe had finished questioning Police-Constable Flack and
joined his chief upstairs, the latter, who had been going through the
private papers in the murdered man's desk in the hope of alighting on a
clue to the crime, received him genially.
"Well," he said, "what do you think of Flack?"
Rolfe had obtained from the police-constable a straightforward story of
what he had seen, and in this way had picked up some useful
information about the crime which it would have taken a long time to
extract from the inspector, but he was a sufficiently good detective to
have learned that by disparaging the source of your information you
add to your own reputation for acumen in drawing conclusions in
regard to it. He nodded his head in a deprecating way and emitted a
slight cough which was meant to express contempt.
"It looks very much like a case of burglary and murder," he said.
He was anxious to know what theory his superior officer had formed.
"And how do you fit in the letter advising us of the murder?" asked the
inspector.
He produced the letter from his pocket-book and looked at it earnestly.
"There were two of them in it--one a savage ruffian who will stick at
nothing, and the other a chicken-hearted specimen. They often work in
pairs like that."
"So your theory is that one of the two shot him, and the other was so
unnerved that he sent us the letter and put us on the track to save his
own neck?"
"Something like that."
"It is not impossible," was the senior officer's comment. "Mind you, I
don't say it is my theory. In fact, I am in no hurry to form one. I believe
in going carefully over the whole ground first, collecting all the clues

and then selecting the right one."
Rolfe admitted that his chief's way of setting to work to solve a mystery
was an ideal one, but he made the reservation that it was a difficult one
to put into operation. He was convinced that the only way of finding
the right clue was to follow up every one until it was proved to be a
wrong one.
Inspector Chippenfield continued his study of the mysterious message
which had been sent to Scotland Yard. It was written on a sheet of
paper which had been taken from a writing pad of the kind sold for a
few pence by all stationers. It was flimsy and blue-lined, and the
message it contained was smudged and badly printed. But to the
inspector's annoyance, there were no finger-prints on the paper. The
finger-print expert at Scotland Yard had examined it under the
microscope, but his search for finger-prints had been vain.
"Depend upon it, we'll hear from this chap again," said the inspector,
tapping the sheet of paper with a finger. "I think I may go so far as to
say that this fellow thinks suspicion will be directed to him and he
wants to save his neck."
"It's a disguised hand," said Rolfe. "Of course he printed it in order not
to give us a specimen of his handwriting. There are telltale things about
a man's handwriting which give him away even when he tries to
disguise it. But he's tried to disguise even his printing. Look how
irregular the letters are--some slanting to the right and some to the left,
and some are upright. Look at the two different kinds of 'U's.'"
"He's used two different kinds of pens," said Inspector Chippenfield.
"Look at the difference in the thickness of the letters."
"The sooner he writes again the better," said Rolfe. "I am curious to
know what he'll say next."
"My idea is to find out who he is and make him speak," said the
inspector, "Speaking is quicker than writing. I could frighten more out
of him in ten