The Chestermarke Instinct

"You know best," said Polke. "If you think it well, do it."

Starmidge put the cheque in an envelope and walked over to the bank. He was shown into the partners' room almost immediately, and the two men glanced at him with evident curiosity.

"Sorry to trouble you, gentlemen," said Starmidge, in his politest manner. "There's a little matter you might help us in. We've been searching this unfortunate gentleman's clothing, you know, for papers and so on. And in his letter-case we found-this!"

He had the cheque ready behind his back, and he suddenly brought it forward, and laid it immediately before the partners, on Gabriel's desk, at the same time stepping back so that he could observe both men.

"Queer, isn't it, gentlemen?" he remarked quietly. "Incomplete!"

Gabriel Chestermarke, in spite of his habitual control, started: Joseph, bending nearer to the desk, made a curious sound of surprise. A second later they both looked at Starmidge-each as calm as ever. "Well?" said Gabriel.

"You don't know anything about that, gentlemen?" asked Starmidge, affecting great innocence.

"Nothing!" answered Gabriel.

"Of course not!" murmured Joseph, a little derisively.

"I thought you might recognize that handwriting," suggested Starmidge, using one of his previously invented excuses.

"No!" replied Gabriel. "Don't know it!"

"From Adam's writing," added Joseph.

"You know the name of the bankers, I suppose, gentlemen?" asked the detective.

"Vanderkiste? Oh, yes!" assented Gabriel. "Well-known city firm. But I don't think we've ever done business with them," he added, turning to his nephew.

"Never!" replied Joseph. "In my time, at any rate."

Starmidge picked up the cheque and carefully replaced it in its envelope.

"Much obliged to you, gentlemen," he said, retreating towards the door. "Oh!-you'll be interested in hearing, no doubt, that the dead man's brother, Mr. Leonard Hollis, of Birmingham, has come. He's identified the body."

"And what does he think, or suggest?" asked Joseph, glancing out of the corners of his eyes at Starmidge. "Has he any suggestions-or ideas?"

"He thinks his brother came here to meet Mr. Horbury," answered Starmidge.

"That's so evident that it's no news," remarked Joseph. "Perhaps he can suggest where Horbury's to be found."

Starmidge bowed and went out and straight back to Polke. He handed him the cheque and the letter-case.

"Lock 'em up!" he said. "Now then, listen! You can do all that's necessary about that inquest. I'm off to town. Sit down, and I'll tell you why. And what I tell you, keep to yourself."

That evening, Starmidge, who had driven quietly across the country from Scarnham to Ecclesborough, joined a London express at the Midland Station in the big town. The carriages were unusually full, and he had some difficulty in finding the corner seat that he particularly desired. But he got one, at last, at the very end of the train, and he had only just settled himself in it when he saw Gabriel Chestermarke hurry past. Starmidge put his head out of the window and watched-Gabriel entered a first-class compartment in the next coach.

"First stop Nottingham!" mused the detective. And he pulled a sheaf of telegram forms out of his pocket, and leisurely began to write a message which before he signed his name to it had run into many words. CHAPTER XX

THE OTHER CHEQUE

Starmidge sent off his telegram when the train stopped at Nottingham, and thereafter went to sleep, secure in the knowledge that it would be promptly acted upon by its recipients. And when, soon after eleven o'clock, the express ran into St. Pancras, he paid no particular attention to Gabriel Chestermarke. He had no desire, indeed, that the banker should see him, and he hung back when the crowded carriages cleared, and the platform became a scene of bustle and animation. But he had no difficulty in distinguishing Gabriel's stiffly erect figure as it made its way towards the hall of the station, and his sharp eyes were quick to notice a quietly dressed, unobtrusive sort of man who sauntered along, caught sight of the banker, and swung round to follow him. Starmidge watched both pass along towards the waiting lines of vehicles-then he turned on his heel and went to the refreshment room and straight to a man who evidently expected him.

"You got the wire in good time, then?" said Starmidge.

"Plenty!" answered the other man laconically. "I've put a good man on to him. See anything of them?"

"Yes-but I didn't know our man," remarked Starmidge. "Who is he? Will he do what I want?"

"He's all right-fellow who's just been promoted, and, of course, he's naturally keen," replied Starmidge's companion. "Name of Gandam. That was a pretty good and full description of the man you want followed, Starmidge," he went on, with a smile. "You don't leave much out!"

"I didn't want him to be overlooked, and I didn't want to show up myself," said Starmidge. "I noticed that our man spotted him quick. Now, look here-I'll be at headquarters first thing tomorrow morning-I want this chap Gandam's report. Nine-thirty sharp! Now we'll have a drink, and I'll get home."

"Good case, this?" asked the other man, as they pledged each other. "Getting on with it?"

"Tell you more tomorrow," answered Starmidge. "When-and if-I know more. Nine-thirty, mind!"

But when Starmidge met his companion of the night before at nine-thirty next morning, it was to find him in conversation with the other man, and to see dissatisfaction on the countenances of both. And Starmidge, a naturally keen observer, knew what had happened. He frowned as he looked at Gandam.

"You don't mean to say he slipped you!" he exclaimed.

"I don't know about slipped," muttered Gandam. "I lost him, anyway, Mr. Starmidge, and I don't see how I can be blamed, either. Perhaps you might have done differently, but-"

"Tell about it!" interrupted Starmidge. "What happened?"

"I spotted him, of course, from your description, as soon as he got out of the train," replied Gandam. "No mistaking him, naturally-he's an extra good one to watch. He'd no luggage-not even a handbag. I followed him to the taxi-cabs. I was close by when he stepped into one, and I heard what he said. 'Stage door-Adalbert Theatre.' Off he went-I followed in another taxi. I stopped mine and got out, just in time to see him walk up the entry to the stage-door. He went in. It was then half-past eleven; they were beginning to close. I waited and waited until at last they closed the stage-door. I'll take my oath he'd never come out!-never!"

Starmidge made a face of intense disgust.

"No, of course he hadn't!" he exclaimed. "He'd gone out at the front. I suppose that never struck you? I know that stage-door of the Adalbert-it's up a passage. If you'd stood at the end of that passage, man, you could have kept an eye on the front and stage-door at the same time. But, of course, it never struck you that a man could go in at the back of a place and come out at the front, did it? Well-that's off for the present. And so am I."

Vexed and disappointed that Gabriel Chestermarke had not been tracked to wherever he was staying in London, Starmidge went out, hailed a taxi-cab, and was driven down to the city. He did not particularly concern himself about Gabriel's visit to the stage-door of the Adalbert Theatre; it was something, after all, to know he had gone there: if need arose, he might be traced from that theatre, in which, very possibly, he had some financial interest. What Starmidge had desired to ascertain was the banker's London address: he had already learned in Scarnham that Gabriel Chestermarke was constantly in London for days at a time-he must have some permanent address at which he could be found. And Starmidge foresaw that he might wish to find him-perhaps in a hurry.