Sir Clinton appeared suddenly smitten with deafness. He ignored the Inspector’s last inquiry completely.
“I shall want you to-night, Inspector. Come to my house at about half-past twelve. And you had better wear rubber-soled boots or tennis shoes if you have them. We’ll go up to Ravensthorpe in my car.”
“You’re going to arrest Marden, sir?”
“No,” was Sir Clinton’s reply, which took the Inspector completely aback. “I’m not going to arrest anybody. I’m going to show you what Foss was going to do with his otophone; that’s all.”
PUNCTUALLY at half-past twelve the Inspector arrived at Sir Clinton’s house. The Chief Constable’s first glance was at the feet of his subordinate.
“Tennis shoes? That’s right. Now, Inspector, I want you to understand clearly that silence is absolutely essential when we get to work. We’ll need to take a leaf out of the book of the Pirates of Penzance :
With cat-like tread
Upon our prey we steal.
That’s our model, if you please. The car’s outside. We’ll go at once.”
As preparations for an important raid, these remarks seemed to Armadale hardly adequate; but as Sir Clinton showed no desire to amplify them, the Inspector was left to puzzle over the immediate future without assistance. The hint about the otophone had roused his curiosity.
“Foss’s hearing was quite normal,” he said to himself, turning the evidence over in his mind. “He heard that conversation in the winter-garden quite clearly enough. So quite evidently one couldn’t call him deaf. And yet he was dragging an otophone about with him. I don’t see it.”
The Chief Constable pulled up the car in the avenue at a considerable distance from the house.
“Change here for Ravensthorpe,” he explained, opening the door beside him. “I can’t take the motor nearer for fear of the engine’s noise giving us away.”
He glanced at the illuminated clock on the dashboard.
“We’re in nice time,” he commented. “Come along, Inspector; and the less said the better.”
They reached the door of Ravensthorpe exactly at one o’clock. Cecil was waiting for them on the threshold.
“Switch off those lights,” Sir Clinton said in a whisper, pointing to the hall lights which Cecil had left burning. “We mustn’t give the show away if we can help it. Someone might be looking out of a window and be tempted to come down and turn them out. You’re supposed to be in bed, aren’t you?”
Cecil nodded without speaking, and, crossing the hall, he extinguished the lamps. Sir Clinton pulled an electric torch from his pocket.
“There’s a staircase giving access to the servant’s quarters, isn’t there?”
Cecil confirmed this, and Sir Clinton turned to the Inspector.
“Which of your men is on duty at the museum door to-night?”
“Froggatt,” the Inspector answered.
“We’ll go along to him,” said Sir Clinton. “I want you, Cecil, to take the constable and post him at the bottom of that stair. Here’s the flash-lamp.”
Froggatt was surprised to see the party.
“Now, Froggatt,” the Chief Constable directed.
“You’re to go with Mr Chacewater. He’ll show you where to stand. All you have to do is to stick to your post there until you’re relieved. It’ll only be a matter of ten minutes or so. Don’t make the slightest sound unless anything goes wrong. Your business is to prevent anyone getting down the stair. There’ll be no trouble. If you see anyone, just shout: ‘Who’s there?’ That’ll be quite enough.”
The Inspector and Sir Clinton waited on the threshold of the museum until Cecil came back.
“Very convenient having these museum lights on all night,” Sir Clinton remarked. “We don’t need to muddle about with the flash-lamp. Now just wait here for a moment, and don’t speak a word. I’m going upstairs.”
He ascended to the first floor, entered Foss’s room and picked up the otophone, with which he returned to his companions.
“Now we can get to work,” he whispered, leading the way into the museum. “Just lock that door behind us, Inspector.”
Followed by the other two he stepped across the museum to the bay containing the safe. There he put the otophone on the floor and opened the case of the instrument. From one compartment he took an earphone with its head-band. A moment’s search revealed the position of the connection, and he plugged the ear-phone wire into place in sockets let into the outside of the attachécase. A little further examination revealed a stud beside the leather handle, and this Sir Clinton pressed.
“That should start the thing,” he commented.
He lifted the hinged metal plate slightly and peered into the cavity which contained the valves.
“That seems all right,” he said, as his eye caught the faint glow of the dull emitters.
Shutting down the plate again, the Chief Constable put his finger into the compartment from which he had taken the ear-phone, pressed a concealed spring, and pulled up the floor of the compartment.
