Inspector French and the Starvel Tragedy by Freeman Wills Crofts Read Free Book Online

count. Bloxham saw Averill lock these notes away in his safe and brought me the old man’s receipt.”
    Mr. Tarkington paused to draw at his cigarette, then continued:
    “In my report about the affair to our headquarters in Throgmorton Avenue, I mentioned among other things that these notes, giving the numbers, had been destroyed in the fire. Well, Oxley, what do you think has happened? I heard from headquarters to-day and they tell me that one of those notes has just been paid in!”
    Mr. Oxley looked slightly bewildered.
    “Well, what of it?” he demanded. “I don’t follow. You reported that these notes had been destroyed in the fire. But wasn’t that only a guess? How did you actually know?”
    “It was a guess, of course, and I didn’t actually know,” Mr. Tarkington agreed. “But I think it was a justifiable guess. I am acquainted with Averill’s habits; he made no secret of them. Monies he paid out he paid by cheque on the current account—everything that one can think of went through it, even the Ropers’ salaries. The cash sent out to Starvel went into the hoard.”
    “All of it didn’t.”
    “Why, what do you mean?”
    “The ten pounds to Ruth Averill didn’t.”
    Mr. Tarkington seemed slightly taken aback.
    “Well, that’s true,” he admitted slowly. “I forgot about the ten pounds. I——”
    “And there’s another twenty that didn’t,” Mr. Oxley continued, “and that’s the twenty that turned up in London. I don’t get your idea, Tarkington. Just what is in your mind?”
    Mr. Tarkington moved uneasily in the big arm-chair.
    “It seems far-fetched, I know, and I hardly like putting it into words, but are you satisfied in your own mind that business was all just as it appeared to be?”
    “What? The fire? How do you mean ‘as it appeared to be’?”
    “That it really was the accident we thought it.”
    Mr. Oxley whistled.
    “Oh, come now, Tarkington, that’s going a bit far, isn’t it? Do you mean arson? What possible grounds could you have for suggesting such a thing?”
    “I don’t exactly suggest it; I came to ask your opinion about it. But what passed through my mind was this: There have been several burglaries lately— skilful burglaries, and, as you know, the police have been completely at fault. Averill was universally believed to be wealthy—the legend of the safe was common property. Is it impossible that some of these burglars might have decided to make an attempt on Starvel? Remember, the situation was one of the loneliest in England. Assume that they got in and that something unexpected happened—that they were surprised by Roper, for example. In the resulting disturbance Roper might easily have been killed—possibly quite accidentally. The intruders would then be fighting for their lives as well as their fortunes. And in what better way could they do it than to murder the other members of the household, lay them on their beds and burn the house down?”
    Mr. Oxley did not reply. The idea was chimerical, fantastic, absurd, and yet—it was certainly possible. There
had
been a number of daring burglaries within the last few months, which were generally believed to be the work of one gang, and in no single instance had the police been able to effect an arrest. The belief in the old miser’s hoard
was
universal, and from the point of view of the thief, Starvel would be one of the easiest cribs to crack. Moreover, on second thoughts, Tarkington’s suggestion as to the origin of the fire was not so fanciful after all. The safe containing the money was in Averill’s bedroom, and the old man would have to be quieted in some way before it could be opened. Roper’s attention might easily have been attracted, and the burglars, either by accident or in self-defence, might have killed him. If so, the fire would be their obvious way of safety. Yes, the thing was possible. All the same, there wasn’t a shred of evidence that it had happened.
    “But, my dear