‘Yes,’ said Palfrey.
‘Good! Kyle, then, was in England, foot-loose, chasing a hare. Fyson, and this man whom he knew and distrusted, had an interest in Garth. He wanted to find out what the interest was. Garth continued experiments, getting far more money than he had ever had before. Kyle suspected that Fyson’s employer was backing him, and began to press his inquiries. Garth fell ill. The substitution was arranged at the nursing home and Kyle lost trace of Garth, but not of Fyson and the other people – you met Frenchie, Sol Krotmann and one or two others, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Satisfied that trouble was in the making, Kyle sent a full report to Washington,’ said Pettigrew. ‘I have a copy of his report. Washington ignored it. Urgent representations were made, and it was found that certain officials in Washington thought Kyle was making a case out for himself in order to get his job back. Inquiries were made about Garth, of course. The impersonator was at the nursing-home, everyone was satisfied that Garth was suffering from overwork, and that was that.’
‘Remarkable official attitude to a thing like the Bomb,’ Palfrey murmured.
‘A typical official attitude, I’m afraid,’ said Pettigrew. ‘The very vastness of the subject prejudiced officials against believing him. How could one man, Garth, do what an army of scientists, tens of thousands of workers and limitless financial resources were doing? Garth’s project, you see, wasn’t considered practical. Kyle was wasting his time. A report was sent to Whitehall about his activities, and he was officially repudiated by Washington. That made it more difficult, but Kyle isn’t easily discouraged. His money was running short, but Susan helped there. She did a column for one of the American syndicates – a report on affairs in England – and they managed to carry on, chasing their hare, unable to find Garth. Then Susan lost her job. Possibly some pressure was exerted, I don’t know about that. They were flat broke, they hadn’t found Garth, and, although they had talked with Sol Krotmann, Frenchie and others, they could not learn a great deal. What they had learned was that these people sometimes visited Cheddar Gorge, that the little syndicate was still powerful and wealthy, and that an unknown sixth member had joined them. Fyson told them about that, boasting that it added to their resources. Now, Palfrey’ – Pettigrew leaned forward and took his pipe from his lips –’Kyle first of all assumed that only one of the original syndicate of high-minded humanists was of doubtful quality. This man Gorringer. You’ve heard of him, I suppose?’
‘Vaguely,’ said Palfrey.
‘Most people are only vague about him,’ said Pettigrew, ‘but his reputation was sound, he did all the right things, and he certainly convinced the others of the syndicate that he was all that could be expected. There was one queer thing about him – contact with people who were certainly not incorruptible. Kyle found that out. He soon found that Gorringer’s motives were open to suspicion.
‘Kyle kept busy. He came to the conclusion that there was another member of the syndicate, one whose name he did not know, a mystery-man, if you like, but someone powerful. And all the time there was the great peril – “all power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely”. This is the nearest thing to absolute power we know.’
‘Yes,’ admitted Palfrey.
‘So he was worried in case the possession of it had turned them from their high purpose. However, there soon came reason for doubting that. You know that Lord Anster died a few months ago, don’t you?’
Palfrey said in a sharp voice: ‘Anster wasn’t in this!’
‘Oh, yes he was,’ declared Pettigrew. ‘I know what you’re thinking. Anster was a really great man – so were Cunningham and the Swiss Grayle, and Scottish Lord Malcolm. Four of the men most respected, most loved in the world, men whose power for good has been tremendous, pacifists each one, yet not dreamers.’
‘But---’
‘Let me finish,’ said Pettigrew. ‘Anster died. Only a fortnight later, Grayle met with an accident near his house and also died. I don’t think it’s generally known that Cunningham and Malcolm have been missing from their homes for some weeks. Their families have not reported to the police.
I
think that they were two of the men found dead at the foot of Wenlock cliffs, although I can’t prove it. I think Morne saw one of them there – he was questioned after one body was found, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey, somewhat dazed. He could hardly keep pace with the information and the thoughts which it engendered.
Pettigrew said: ‘In Kyle’s opinion, and in mine, those men have all been killed because Gorringer – which may be a false name – intended to exploit Garth’s discovery. And Gorringer has a partner, the man about whom Fyson boasted - so far we don’t know who that man is.’
‘I see,’ said Palfrey. ‘Where do you come in?’
Pettigrew said: ‘I was in America on Government business some years ago and met Kyle then. Our friend is a realist. He knows that I am wealthy; he believes that I am reliable; and he knows that I am not without influence in Whitehall. He took a chance and told me everything that I have told you. He emphasized, as if emphasis were necessary, that it was vital not to spread the information. The struggle had to be in secret, with or without official help. He asked me for help if I could not win it for him from Whitehall. I promised it, and I have given it. I should tell you that when I approached the people at Whitehall, I was immediately told that Kyle was a dissatisfied ex-agent, a braggart and a headstrong fool. The general opinion was that he was absolutely discredited and I was wasting my time on him. Whitehall, when it chooses, can be the most deadly obstructionist in the world, as I know to my cost. I wasn’t satisfied, but all I could do was to finance Kyle and keep trying to help. Not until you actually found Garth in Cheddar Gorge was there any change in the official attitude. Then I was delighted to see that Brett came down here, and I had no doubt that you were going to work officially. When you first appeared on the scene, Kyle, Susan and I had a mild celebration. We thought that Whitehall had stirred after all. You disappointed us, but that’s all worked out now. Now things have gone so fast that we can really hope for action, can’t we?’
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. This mystery-man in the syndicate – haven’t you any idea who he is?’
‘No. I might make a guess – Rufus Morne.’
‘Do you know if Markham is concerned in this at all?’
‘I’ve no reason to think he is,’ said Pettigrew. ‘I once thought that his son and young McDonald might be involved, although they’re hardly the type.’
*I think I can explain their part,’ said Palfrey. He briefly told McDonald’s story, and Pettigrew seemed to find it satisfying. ‘Well, now,’ said Palfrey, ‘a word first with Brett and, when I’ve heard from him, a gathering of the clans, I think.’
‘What clans?’
‘Yours and mine,’ said Palfrey. ‘After today I shall not be working alone. All right?’
Pettigrew said: ‘I’m going to put the thing in your hands now, Palfrey.’
‘Not mine, but Brett’s. And Whitehall’s, but a Whitehall which now really means business. Thanks. You’ve been very good and very helpful and I won’t forget it. Er – do you know where the explosion started last night?’
‘It was somewhere out at sea,’ said Pettigrew, ‘and I’ve an idea that the workings of some of the old tin mines go fairly far under the sea. It might have been an accidental blow-up, or it might have been an underwater experiment. From the blast, I’ve wondered if it happened from a boat.’
‘From a boat,’ Palfrey said, firmly. ‘A safe experiment, after all. Put one of the infernal things on a small motor-boat, set its course, let it get a few miles out, and then – oh, well, we’ll find out all the details sooner or later. Did I tell you that I think an attempt has been made to murder Morne?’
Pettigrew stiffened. ‘Think?’
‘Yes. I can’t be sure. He’s well-guarded now. An early talk with him is indicated. The number of things I want to do at once are legion,’ Palfrey went on. ‘Where shall I find Kyle?’
‘At Bristol,’ said Pettigrew promptly. ‘These people are known to have a meeting-place there.’
‘I’ve heard the Theatre Royal mentioned.’
‘I don’t think the theatre is actually concerned,’ said Pettigrew. ‘I don’t see how it could be, but it’s somewhere near there.’
‘And Kyle’s trying to find it, with Susan Lee?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about the Lancastrian who looks like Kyle?’
‘He’s with them, too,’ said Pettigrew. ‘He’s an old employee of mine, and as deeply involved as any of us.’
‘One other thing, to get it all squared up,’ Palfrey said. ‘Who was the man believed to be under arrest, and so important that Kyle had to find out?’
‘Gorringer,’ said Pettigrew, promptly.
‘Oh. Does he live down here?’
‘He was down here last night, so Kyle told me,’ said Pettigrew. ‘I have had as little to do with Kyle as I could, of course; I didn’t want to land him in trouble, and the police have had their eye on me, as Whitehall knows’ I’m in on this. There’s still one other point you will want to know,’ went on Pettigrew. ‘The place where we keep Fyson and Frenchie.’
‘Ah, yes. Where?’
‘My house, near Oxford,’ said Pettigrew. ‘You see, Palfrey, I have taken some risks over this business.’
‘Yes. Congratulations.’ Palfrey stood up. ‘One urgent thing is to make absolutely sure that Morne’s all right.’
‘I’ll leave that to you, now,’ said Pettigrew. ‘Oh, there are two small points. Gorringer once rented a flat in Mayfair, the telephone number being 01341. He leased it to his friends – that explains one puzzle, doesn’t it? And they put a man on the staff at the sanatorium. He told Fyson you were going to visit Miss Morne, and he poisoned your tea. Now I’m off!’
‘Where will you go?’
‘Home,’ Pettigrew declared, and took a card from his pocket. It read:
‘C. K. Pettigrew, Lyme House, Nr. Oxford.’
‘You’ll find me there any time you like. What message do you want me to give to Kyle?’
‘Come to
Sea View,
Middle Bay, Corbin,’ said Palfrey, ‘but not before eight o’clock tonight. If he does get picked up by the police, he can tell them they must refer it immediately to Cartwright. I’ll fix things with Cartwright. Happier?’
‘Much,’ said Pettigrew.
Palfrey left the
Rose and Crown
without any interference and with Pettigrew’s firm grip lingering on his fingers. Then he saw McDonald sitting on a seat in the courtyard of the inn.
McDonald stood up and waited for Palfrey. He was smiling; his long face seemed to reflect genuine amusement, and the broodiness which he had shown at the house that morning had gone.
‘Hallo, bloodhound,’ said Palfrey.
McDonald laughed. ‘Don’t remind me of those brutes!’
Then don’t be one,’ said Palfrey. ‘How’s Loretta?’
‘I think she’s making progress,’ McDonald said, seriously. ‘I didn’t stay for long. She recognized me for the first time.’
‘How did you find me here?’
McDonald said: ‘I once followed Kyle to this place. I saw him talk to Pettigrew. I came along to see Pettigrew today, and was told he had a visitor. I described you and learned I’d got it in one.’
They walked along the road towards the car. Drusilla was sitting at the wheel.
‘Why did you come to see Pettigrew?’ demanded Palfrey.
‘I’m curious about Kyle.’
‘I’m curious about you,’ said Palfrey. They reached the car and he beamed upon Drusilla. ‘Look what’s blown up,’ he said.
‘It does appear in unexpected places, doesn’t it?’ murmured Drusilla.
‘That’s exactly the point,’ said Palfrey. ‘Will you drive while Mac and I sit in the back?’ He opened the door, trying to decide what attitude to take. Someone at Morne House was involved. For the first time it occurred to him that he had never checked McDonald’s story of having arrived in England only recently. Glancing sideways at the man, he found it hard to distrust him, but
‘Well, what about it?’ asked McDonald.
Palfrey said: ‘I am going to make one or two inquiries about you, Mac. It’s time they were made. You haven’t an alternative story for me, I suppose?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘All your past reticence has been to make sure that Loretta wasn’t caught out in some discreditable business?’
‘All.’ McDonald was emphatic.
‘And you once told me that you had little regard for family tradition!’
‘None,’ said McDonald, ‘but I also told you that I have a great deal of regard for Loretta.’ He laughed, and there was a bitter note in his voice. ‘Would you like to know why I so dislike King Rufus?’
‘Yes.’
‘I want to marry Loretta,’ said McDonald, ‘and His Majesty won’t hear of it.’
‘Oh,’ said Palfrey, and added, after a pause: ‘Is Loretta a girl to allow her father to dictate to her?’
‘In that one matter, yes.’ McDonald stirred restlessly. ‘At one time I thought she would defy him. Then something happened and she changed her mind.’
‘Someone was blackmailing her, you know.’
McDonald snapped: ‘Are you suggesting that I was?’
‘No. Suggesting that she thought you were.’
‘Oh,’ said McDonald, and then shook his head. ‘I doubt that very much, but you may be right. Where are we going now?’
‘To temporary police headquarters,’ said Palfrey.
‘With me as prisoner?’
‘Not yet,’ said Palfrey.
Drusilla pulled up outside the police building. Cartwright was resting, but Wriggleswade was there. He was still pompous, but treated Palfrey with some deference. The reason soon materialized; special instructions had been received from Scotland Yard concerning the facilities to be offered to Palfrey.
‘Oh, splendid,’ said Palfrey. ‘First, if you don’t mind, tell the Bristol Police that I might look in on them, and would be grateful for help. Then, if Kyle is caught, I’d like him to go to
Sea View,
Corbin. Under escort, if you prefer it, but there and not here or to a police station. You’re being very good, you know.’
‘We’ve got to
find
these devils,’ Wriggleswade said. ‘There is one thing I meant to say to you. Dr. Palfrey. You oughtn’t to go out anywhere without an escort.’