 Chapter 8 of The Riddle of the Frozen Flame by Mary E. Hanshu and Thomas W. Hanshu. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 8 The Victim Dacre Wynne had vanished, leaving behind him no trace of mortal remains, and only a patch of charred grass in the middle of the uninhabited fens to mark the spot, and Nigel Merriton, whose guest the man was, must of necessity be told the fruitlessness of the searcher's self-appointed task. The doctor volunteered to do it. Tony Wirst accompanied him as far as Nigel's, and then he suddenly recollected that Merriton had locked it the night before. There was nothing for it but to hammer on the panels, or pick the lock. And he'll be sleeping like a dead man if I know anything of sleeping-drafts," said the doctor, shaking his head. Got a pen-knife, West? West nodded. He whipped the knife out of his pocket, and began methodically to work at the worn lock, with all the precision of an experienced burglar. But the action brought no smile to his lips, no little mocking jest to help on the job. There was something grim in the set of West's lips, and in the tension of the doctor's slight figure. Tragedy had stalked unnoticed into the towers that evening, and they had become enmeshed in the folds of its cloak. They felt it in the cold claminess of the atmosphere, in the quiet peace of the long corridors. Finally the thing was done. West turned the handle, and the door swung inward. The doctor crossed to the bedside, and took hold of the sleeping man's shoulder. He shook it vigorously. Nigel! He called sharply once or twice. Wake up, wake up! But Meritan never moved. The performance was repeated, and the call was louder. Nigel, I say, wake up, wake up! We've news for you. The sleeping man stirred suddenly, and wrenched his shoulder away. Let go of me, when, damn you! He broke out petulantly, his eyes opening. I've beaten you this time anyhow, so part of our score is marked off. Let go, I say. I—I—Dr. Martholomew. What in Heaven's name's the matter? I've been asleep, haven't I? What is it? You look as though you had seen a ghost. He was thoroughly awake now, and struggled to a sitting position. The doctor's face twisted wryly. I wish I had, Nigel, he said bitterly. Even ghosts would be better than nothing at all. We've been out searching for wind, and I— Been out! Yes, across the fence. We were anxious. Wind didn't come back, you know, and so, after we'd got you to bed, we thought we'd make up a search-party among ourselves and look into the thing. But we haven't found him, Nigel. He's vanished completely. Impossible! Meritan was out of bed now, still staring sleepily at them. Everything in the boyishness of him struck a chord of sympathy in the doctor's heart. He alone of all of them had guessed at the genuineness of Nigel's fear for wind. He alone had seen into the man's heart, and discovered the half-belief that lurked there. I'm afraid it's perfectly true, he said quietly, as Meritan came to him and caught him by the arm, his face white. We followed his tracks across the fence. It had been raining, and it was extremely easy to do, until they suddenly ended in a patch of half-chard grass. It was uncanny. We made a further search to make sure, but nothing rewarded our efforts. Dacre winds gone somewhere, and those devilish flames of yours will be counting another victim to their lengthening list to-night. Good God! Meritan's lips trembled, and his fingers dropped from the doctor's arm. But I tell you, it's impossible, man! He broke out suddenly. The things beyond human credulity, doctor! Well, be that as it may, the fact remains, winds gone. Returned the doctor gloomily. Of course, we must communicate with the police. That's the next thing to do. We'll send over to make sure wind isn't at the biliers, but I think there isn't a chance of it myself. Where he did go, beats me completely. And it fair beats me too, said Meritan in a shocked voice, beginning mechanically to struggle into his clothes. One of you might phone the police, though what they'll be able to do for us, I don't know. It's a one-horse show in the village, and the chap who's chief constable was the fellow who told me of the other man that disappeared and seemed quite willing to accept a supernatural explanation. Still, of course, it's the thing to be done. And I actually saw, with my own eyes, that new flame flash out. He said the last words in a sort of undertone, but the doctor heard them, and twitched up an inquiring eyebrow. You saw the new flame. Oh, of course, and you—never mind. Our next move is to telephone the police. But what the police could do for them was so pitifully small as to be absurd. Paul Haggers was a man whose superstitious fear of the flames got the better of his constabulary training in every way. He said he would do what he could, but he would certainly attempt nothing until broad daylight. He believed the story in every particular, and said that it was well nigh impossible to trace the vanished man. There had been others, was all he would say, and never a trace of them have we ever seen. Telephoning the Breliés was a mere matter of minutes, and by that means Meriton made perfectly sure that Wynn had not put in an appearance at Withersby Hall. Brelié himself answered the phone, and said that he was just thinking that as Wynn hadn't turned up yet they must indeed have been making a night of it at the towers. However, he continued, if you say you all retired around about one o'clock and Wynn left you soon after ten, well I can't think what has become of him. He went out to investigate those devilish flames, remarked Meriton as a rather shame-faced explanation. Then he fairly heard the wire's jump with the force of Brelié's exclamation. Eh, what? What's that you say? He went out to investigate the flames, Meriton? What fool let him go? Surely you know the story. We did, and we did our best to dissuade him, Mr. Brelié, replied Meriton wirrily. But he went. You know Dacre Wynn as well as I do. He was set upon going, but he is not to come back, and some of the chaps here set up a search-party to hunt for him. They discovered nothing, simply some charred grass in the middle of the fence, and the end of his footprints. So he didn't come round to your place then. Thanks. I'm awfully sorry to have bothered you, but you can understand my anxiety I know. I'll keep you posted as to any news we get. Yes, horrible, isn't it? So, so beastly uncanny. He hung up the restiva with a drawn face. Well, Wynn didn't go there, anyway, he said to the group of men who clustered round him. So that's done with. Now we'll just have to possess our souls in patience, and see what comfortable haggars can do for us. I vote we'd tumble in for forty winks before the sun gets too high in the heavens. It is the most reasonable thing to do in the circumstances. The days that followed brought them little light upon the matter. Wynn, it proved, was a man apparently without relations, and devoid of friends. The local police could make nothing of it. They had had such cases before, and were perfectly willing to let the matter rest where it was. Just once so high began to flag. The thing dropped into the common place, and was soon forgotten, together with the man who had caused it. But Nigel was far from satisfied. That he and Dayka Wynn were really enemies who had posed as friends, made not a particle of difference. Dayka Wynn had disappeared during the brief time that he was a guest in Meriton's house. The subject did not die with the owner of Meriton Towers. He spent many long evenings with Dr. Bartholomew talking the thing over, trying to reconstruct it, probe into it, hunt for new clues, knew anything which might lead to a solution. But such talks always came to nothing. Every stone had already been turned, and the dry dust of the highway afforded little knowledge to Meriton. Across the clear sky of his happiness a cloud had gloomed, spoiling for a time the perfection of it. He could not think of marriage while the mystery of Dayka Wynn's death remained unsolved. It seemed unthinkable. Tony West told him he was getting morbid about it, and to have a change. Come up to London and see some of your friends," was West's advice, but Meriton never took it. To Annette seemed the only person who understood how he felt, and the knowledge of this only served to draw them closer together. She too felt that marriage was for the time being unthinkable, and despite Brelier's constant urging in that direction, she held her ground firmly, telling him that they preferred to wait a while. I'm going to solve the blessed thing, To Annette," Nigel told her over and over again during these long weeks and days that followed, if I grow gray-headed in the attempt. Dayka Wynn was no true friend of mine, but he was my guest at the time of his disappearance, and I mean to find the reason of it. If he had only known what the future held in store for them both, would he still have clung to his purpose? Who can tell? It was at night that the thing obsessed him worst. When darkness had fallen, Meriton would sit evening after evening, looking out upon that same scene that he had shown his companions that eventful night. And always the flames danced on their maddening way, mocking him, holding behind the screen of their brilliancy the key to Dayka Wynn's inexplicable disappearance. Meriton would sit and watch them for hours, and sometimes find himself talking to them. What was the matter with him? Was he going insane? Or was this Dayka Wynn's abominable idea of her revenge for having stolen Twanette's heart away from him? To have died and sent his spirit back to haunt the man he hated seemed to Meriton sometimes the answer to the questions which constantly puzzled him. End of chapter 8 Chapter 9 of The Riddle of the Frozen Flame by Mary E. Hanshu and Thomas W. Hanshu This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 9 The Second Victim The alterations at Meriton Towers were certainly a success. From the builder's point of view at any rate, white paint had helped to dispel some of its gloominess, though there were those who said that the whole place was ruined thereby. However, it was certainly an improvement to be able to have windows that opened and to look into rooms that beckoned you with promises of cosy inglenooks and plenty of brilliant sunshine. Borkin's looked upon these improvements with a sensorious eye. He was one of those who believed in letting things be, to whom innovation is a crime and modernity nothing short of madness. To him the dignity of the house had gone. But when it came to Nigel installing a new staff of servants, the good Borkin's literally threw up his hands and cried aloud in anguish. He did not hold with frilled aprons any more than he held with women assuming places that were not meant for them. But if the maids annoyed Borkin's, his patience reached its breaking point when Meriton, paying a flying visit to town, returned in company with a short, thick-set person who spoke with a harsh cockney accent and whom Meriton introduced as his batman. Whatever that might be, said Borkin's holding forth to Dimmock, one of the undergrooms. James Collins soon became a necessary part of the household machinery, a little cog, in fact, upon which the great wheel of tragedy was soon to turn. Within a week he was completely at home in his new surroundings. And in fact was the perfect gentleman's servant, and thus he liked always to think himself. Many a word he and Borkin's had over their masters likes and dislikes, but invariably Collins won out. While every other servant in the place liked him and trusted him, the sight of his honest red face and his ginger eyebrows was enough to make Borkin's look like a thunder-cloud. The climax was reached one night in the autumn when the evening papers failed to appear at their appointed time. Collins confronted Borkin's with the fact and got snubbed for his pains. E.A.U., he said, he hadn't much respect for Borkin's and made no attempt to hide the fact. What a deuce has become of his lordship's pipers! Have you been having a squint at a mould-piface, just like your blooming cheek? Not so much of your impudence, Mr. Collins, retorted Borkin's. When you address us, a gentleman, try to remember how to speak to him. I've had nothing whatever to do with Sir Nigel's evening papers, and you know it. If they're late, well, wouldn't it be worth your while to go down to the station and have a gentle word or two with one of the officials there? Ah, well, then, old fiddle-fife, retorted Collins with a good-natured grin, don't lose your wool over it. You ain't got any to spare. His lordship's been at asking for him, and like there's not, they ain't turned up. Let's see, what's the time, half past eight? He shook his bullet-shaped head. Well, I'll be doing as you say. Slap on me hat and jacket, and mic off to the blinking station. What's the shortest why, Borkin's, my beauty? Collins looked at him a moment, and his face went a dull brick-colour. Then he smirked sarcastically. Like is not, you're so brave you wouldn't mind going across the fence. He said, them there are flames wouldn't be scaring such a hero as Mr. James Collins all now. You'll find it a mile or so less than the three miles by road. It's the shortest cut, but I don't recommend it. However that lies with you. I'll tell Sir Nigel where you're gone, if he asks me, you may be sure. All right, across the fence is the shortest, you says. Well I'll try it tonight and see. You're right for once, I ain't afraid. It takes more than twiddly little bits of lights to scare James Collins, I tells you. So long. Borkin standing at the window in the dining-room and peering through the dusk at Collins' sturdy figure as it swung past him down the drive, bit his lip a moment, and made as if to go after him. No, I'll be damned if I do, he said suddenly, if he knows such a lot, well let him take the risk. I warned him anyhow, so I've done my bit. The flames all do the rest. And he laughed. But James Collins did not come back when he ought to have done, and the evening papers arrived before him brought by the station master's son Jacob. Jacob had seen nothing of Collins, and Meritan, who did not know that the man had gone on this errand, made no remark when the hours went slowly by, and no sign of Collins appeared. At eleven o'clock the household retired. Meritan, still ignorant of his man's absence, went to bed and slept soundly. The first knowledge he received of Collins' absence was when Borkin's appeared in his bedroom in the morning. Where the deuces Collins, Meritan said pettishly, for he did not like Borkin's, and they both knew it. That's exactly what I have been trying to find out, sir, responded Borkin's bravely. He hasn't been back since last night, so far as I could make out. Last night Meritan sat bold upright in bed, and ran his fingers through his hair. What the dickens do you mean? Collins went out last night, sir, to fetch your papers. Least ways that was what he said he was going for, responded Borkin's patiently, and so far as I know, he hasn't returned yet. Whether he dropped into a public house on the way or not, I don't know, or whether he took the shortcut to the station across the fence isn't for me to say, but he hasn't come back yet, sir. Meritan looked anxious. Collins had a strong hold upon his master's heart. He certainly wouldn't like anything to happen to him. You mean to say, he said sharply, that Collins went out last night to fetch my papers from the station, and was fool enough to take the shortcut across the fence? I warned him against the wind-stow, said Borkin's, since he said he'd probably go that way, that no frozen flames was a going to frighten him, and his language was most offensive. But I've no doubt he went. Then why the devil didn't you tell me last night? exclaimed Meritan angrily, jumping out of bed. You knew that the truth about Mr. Wind's disappearance, and yet you deliberately let that man go out to his death. If anything's happened to James Collins, Borkin's, I'll wring your damned neck, understand? Borkin's went a shade or two paler, and took a step backward. Sir Nigel, sir, I—when did Collins go? I've passed hate, sir. Collins' voice trembled a little. And believe me or not, sir, I did my best to persuade Collins from doing such an extremely dangerous thing. I begged him not to think of doing it, but Collins is pig-edded, if you'll forgive the word, sir, and he was bent upon getting your papers. I swear, sir, I ain't had anything to do with it, and when he didn't come back last night, before I went to bed, I said to myself, I said, Collins has dropped into a public house and made a ass of his self, I said, and thought no more about it, expecting it being later. But his bed hasn't been slept in, and there is no sign of him anywhere. Meritan twisted round upon his heel and looked at the man keenly for a moment. I'm fond of Collins, Borkins, he said abruptly. We've known each other a long time. I shouldn't like anything to happen to the chap while he's in my service, that's all. Get out now and make inquiries in every direction. Have Dimmock go down to the village, and ransack every public house round about. If you can't find any trace of him—his lips tightened for a moment—then I'll fetch in the police. I'll get the finest detective in the land on this thing. I'll get Cleak himself if it costs me every penny I possess, but I'll have him traced somehow. Those devilish flames are taking too heavy a toll. I've reached the end of my tether." He waved Borkins out with an imperious hand, and went on with his dressing, his heart sick. What if Collins had met with the same fate as Daker-Winn? What were those fiendish flames anyhow that men disappeared completely, leaving neither sight nor sound? Surely there was some brain clever enough to probe the mystery of them. If Collins doesn't turn up this morning, he told himself as he shaved with a very unsteady hand, I'll go straight up to London by the twelve o'clock train, and straight to Scotland Yard, but I'll find him, damn it, I'll find him! But no trace of James Collins could be found. He was gone, completely. No one had seen him, no one but Borkins had known of his probable journey across the fiends at night-time, and Borkins excused himself upon the plea that Collins hadn't actually said he was going that way. He had simply vanished, as Daker-Winn had vanished, as Will Myers and all that long list of others had vanished, eaten up by the flames, and in twentieth century England. But the fact remained, Daker-Winn had disappeared, and now James Collins had followed him, and a new flame shone among the others, a newer, brighter flame than any before. Meritons saw it himself, that was the devilish part of it. His own eyes had seen the thing appear, just as he had seen it upon the night when Daker-Winn had vanished, but he didn't shoot at it this time. Instead he packed a small bag, ran over and said good-bye to Twanette, and told her he was going to have a day in town, but told her nothing else. Then he took the twelve o'clock train to town. A taxi whisked him to Scotland Yard. CHAPTER X CHAPTER TEN AND THE LADY And this was the extraordinary chain of events which brought young Meriton into Mr. Narkham's office that day, while Cleak was sitting there, and on being introduced as Mr. Hedland heard the story from Sir Nigel's lips. As he came to the last, and no trace of either body has ever been found, Cleak suddenly switched round in his chair, and exclaimed, An extraordinary rigmarole altogether. Meeting Meriton's astonished eyes with his own keen ones, he went on, The flames, of course, are a plant of some sort, that goes without saying. But the thing to find out is what they're there for to hide. When you've discovered that, you'll have got half way to the truth, and the rest will follow as a matter of course. What's that, Mr. Narkham? Yes, I'll take the case, Sir Nigel. My name's Cleak, Hamilton Cleak, at your service. Now, let's hear the thing all over again, please. I've one or two questions I'd like to ask. Meriton left Scotland Yard an hour later, lighter in heart than he had been for some time, ever since, in fact, Dacre Winn's tragic disappearance had cast such a gloom over his life's happiness. He had unburdened his soul to Cleak, absolutely, and Cleak had treated the confession with a decent sort of respect, which was enough to win any chap over to him. Meriton, in fact, had found in Cleak a friend as well as a detective. He had been a little astonished at his general get-up and appearance, but Meriton had heard of his peculiar birthright and felt that the man himself was capable of almost anything. Certainly, he proved full of sympathetic understanding. Cleak understood the ground upon which he stood with regard to his friendship with Dacre Winn. He had, with a wonderful intuition, sensed the peculiar influence of the man upon Nigel. This, by look and gesture, rather than by use of tongue and speech, and Cleak had already drawn his own conclusions. He heard of Nigel's engagement to Antoinette Braylier and of how Dacre Winn had taken it, heard, indeed, all the little personal things which Meriton had never told to any man and certainly hadn't intended telling to this one. But that was Cleak's way. He secured a man's confidence and, by that method, got at the truth. A bond of friendship had sprung up between them and Cleak and Mr. Narcombe had promised that before a couple of days were over they would put in an appearance at Fetchworth and look into things more closely. It was agreed that they would oppose as friends of Sir Nigel since Cleak felt that in that way he could pursue his investigations unsuspected and make more headway in the case. But there was but one thing Nigel hadn't spoken of and that was the very foolish and ridiculous action of his upon that fateful evening of the dinner party. Only he and Dr. Bartholomew, who was as close-mouthed as the devil himself over some things, knew of the incident of the pistol shooting so far as Meriton was aware. And the young man was too ashamed of the whole futile affair and what it very apparently proved to the listener that he had certainly drunk more than was good for him to wish anyone else to share in the absurd little secret. It could have no bearing upon the affair and if Twanette got to hear of it well he'd look all sorts of a fool and possibly be treated to a sermon, a prospect which he did not relish in the slightest. As he left the yard and turned into the keen autumn sunshine he lifted his face to the skies and thanked the stars that he had come to London after all and placed things in proper hands. There was nothing now for him to do but to go back to Meriton Towers and as expeditiously as possible make up for the day lost from Twanette. So after a visit to a big confectioner's in Regent Street and another to a little jeweller in Piccadilly Meriton got into the train at Waterloo carrying his parcels with a happy heart. He got out at Fetchworth Station three hours later hailed the only hack that stood there for he had forgotten to apprise any one at the towers of his quick return and drove straight away to Withersby Hall. Twanette was at the window as he swung open the great gate. When she saw him she darted away and came flying down the drive to meet him. The contents of the various packages made her happy as a child and it was some time after they reached the house that Nigel asked some question concerning her uncle. Her face clouded ever so little and for the first time Nigel noticed that she was pale. Uncle has gone away for a few days, she replied. He said it was business, what would you? But I told him I should be lonesome in this kind house and I am so frightened that those horrible little flames twinkle twinkle on that lawn. I cannot sleep when I am alone Nigel. I am a baby I know but I cannot help it. It makes me feel so afraid. As was usual in moments of emotion with Twanette her accent became more pronounced. He stroked her hair with a gentle hand as though she were in very truth the child she tried not to be. Poor little one! I wish I could come across and put up here for the night hang conventions anyway and then too I have to make ready for some visitors who will be done tomorrow or the next day. Fit it off Nigel? Yes dear. I have a couple of friends coming to spend a short time with me. Chaps I met in London today. What did you go up for Nigel? Nigel, holly! He coloured a little and was thankful that she turned away at that moment to straighten the collar of her blouse. He didn't like lying to the woman he was going to marry but he had given his word to Cleek. Oh! he said off-handedly I, I went to my tailor's and then stepped in to buy you that little trinket and your precious chocks and came along home again. Met these fellas on my way across town. Rather nice chaps, one of them anyhow. Used to know some friends of friends of his girl called El Solon and the other one happened to be there so I asked him too. They won't worry you much, Twanette. They're frightfully keen about the country and will be sure to go out shooting and snuffing round like these town Johnny's always do when they get in places like this. Well, as Mr. Brelier isn't here I suppose I'd better be making my way home again. Wish we were married, Twanette. There'd be no more of these everlasting separations then. No more nightmares for you, little one. Only happiness and joy and heaps of other ripping things. Never mind. We'll make it soon, won't we? She raised her face suddenly and her eyes met his. There was a haunted look in them that made him draw closer his own face anxious. What is it, dear? He said in a low, worried tone. Only they can win always they can win these days. She replied unsteadily. Do you know Nigel? I am a silly girl, I know. But somehow I dare not think of marriage with you until everything is finally cleared up and his death or disappearance or whatever the dreadful affair was discovered. I feel in some inexplicable way responsible. It is as if his spirit was standing between us and our happiness. Tell me I am foolish, please. You are more than foolish, said Nigel obediently and laughed carelessly to show her how he treated the thing. But in his heart he knew her feelings knew them and fully understood. It was exactly as he had felt about it also. The bond that bound Dakerwin's life to his had not yet been snapped. The mystery of his disappearance seemed only to strengthen it. He wandered dully when he would ever feel free again and then laughed inwardly at himself for making a farce of the whole thing for building a mountain out of a stupid little molehill. And Twanette was helping him. They were both unutterably foolish. Anyhow Cleak was coming soon to clear matters up. He wished with all his heart that he might tell Twanette and thus relieve the tension of her mind. But he had given his word to Cleak and with a man of his type his word was sacred. So he kissed her goodbye and laughed and went back to Meritan Towers to prepare for their coming. But the cloud had dropped across his horizon again and the sun was once more obscured. There was there was no smile upon his lips as he clanged the great front door too behind him. End of chapter 10 Chapter 11 of The Riddle of the Frozen Flame by Mary E. Handshugh and Thomas W. Handshugh This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11 The Secret of the Flames Fetchworth, as everybody knows, lies in that part of the Fen district of Lincolnshire that borders on the coast. And in the curve of its mother-like arm Salt Fleet Bay a tiny shipping centre with miniature harbour drowses its days in pleasant idleness. And so it was that upon the morning of Cleak's and Mr. Narcombe's arrival at Meritan Towers they came disguised as two idlers interested in the surrounding country after having satiated themselves at the fountain of London's Geerties and bore the pseudonyms of George Headland and Mr. Gregory Lake, respectively. Cleak himself was primed, so to speak, on every point of the landscape. He knew all about Fetchworth that there was to know saving the Secret of the Frozen Flames and that he was expected to know very soon. And the traffic of Salt Fleet Bay and its tiny harbour was an open book to him. Even with Usby Hall and its environs had had the same close intensive study and everything that was to be learnt from guidebooks, tourists in quarry offices and the like was hidden away in the innermost recesses of his remarkable brain. Borkins, standing at the smoking-room window, a favourite haunt of his from which he was able to see without too ostensibly being seen, noted there coming up the broad driveway with something of disfavour in his look. Meryton had given him certain directions only the night before and Borkins was a keen-sighted man. Also, the little fat Johnny at any rate didn't quite look the type of man that the Merytons were in the habit of entertaining at the towers. However, he opened the door with a flourish and told the gentleman that Sir Nigel is in the drawing-room, whether he led them with much pomp. Cleek took in the place at a glance, noted the wide, deep hallway the old-fashioned outline of the house smartened up freshly by the hands of modern workmen, the set of each door and window that he passed and stowed away these impressions in the pigeon-holes of his mind. As he proceeded to the drawing-room he set out in his mind's eye the whole scene of that night's occurrence as had been related to him by Sir Nigel. There was the smoking-room door open and showing the type of room behind it. There the hall-stand from which Deca Win had fatefully wrenched his coat and hat to go lurching out into oblivion half-drunk and maddened with something more than intoxication, if Meryton had told his story truly and Cleek believed he had. It was, in fact, in that very smoking-room that the legend which had led up the tragedy had been told. Hmm. There certainly was much to be cleared up here while he was waiting for that other business at the war-office to adjust itself. He wouldn't find time hanging heavily upon his hands, there was no doubt of that. And the thought that this man who had come to him for help was a one-time friend of El Salon's the one dear woman in the world, added fuel to the fire of his already awakened interest. He greeted Meryton with all the bored ennui of the part he had adopted during such time as he was under Borkin's watchful eye. Even Mr. Narcom played his part creditably and won a glance of approval from his justly celebrated ally. Hello, old chap! Said Cleek, extending a hand and screwing a monocle still farther into his left eye. Awfully pleased to see you, don't you know? Devilish long journey, what! Beastly fine place you've got here, I must say. What do you think, Cleek? Meryton gasped, bit his lip, and then suddenly realising who the gentleman thus addressing him was made an attempt at the right sort of reply. Ah, yes! Yes, of course! He responded, though somewhat at random, for this absolutely new creature that Cleek had become rather took his breath away. Ah, Freddie, are very tired and all that. Cold, Mr. Headland! Cleek frowned at the slight hesitation before the name. He didn't want to take chances of anyone guessing his identity and Balkans were still halfway within the room and probably had sharp ears his sort of man had. Not very! He responded as the door closed behind the butler. At least that is the Nigel speaking in his natural voice. It really was pretty chilly coming down winter setting in fast, you know. That, your man! He jerked his head in the direction of the closed door and twitched an inquiring eyebrow. Meritan nodded. Yes, he said. That sporkens. Looks a trustworthy specimen, doesn't he? For my part I don't trust him further than I can see him, Mr.— ah, Headland. Hopefully sorry, but I keep forgetting your name somehow. He's too shifty-eyed for me. What do you think? You're better when I've had a good look at him. Responded clique, guardably. And lots of honest men are shifty-eyed, Senegal, and vice versa. That doesn't count for anything, you know. Well, my dear Mr. Lake, finding your part a bit too much for you. He added, with a laugh, turning to Mr. Narkham who was sitting on the extreme edge of his chair mournfully fingering which was higher and tighter than the somewhat careless affair which he usually adopted. Never mind. As the poet sings, all the worlds are stage and all the men and women, etc. You're simply one of them now. Try to remember that. And remember also that the eyes of the gallery are not always upon you. Senegal, I ask you, isn't our friends make up the perfection of the, er, elderly man about town? Senegal laughingly had to admit that it was whereupon Mr. Narkham blushed exceedingly and the ice was broken as clique had intended it should be. They adjourned to the smoking-room where a huge log-fire burnt in the grate and easy-chairs invited. They discussed the topics of the day with evident relish during such time as Borkins was in the room and smoked their cigars with the air of men to whom the hours were as nought and life simply a chessboard to move their little pieces upon as they willed. But how soon they were to cry checkmate upon this case which they were all investigating even clique did not know. Then, of a sudden, he looked up from his task of studying the fire with knitted brows. By the way, he said off-handedly, I hope you don't mind my man will be coming down by the next train with our traps. I never travel without him, he's such a useful beggar. You can manage to put him up somewhere, I suppose. I was a fool not to have mentioned it before but the lad entirely slipped my memory. He helps me, too, in other things and there is always a good deal to be learned from the servant's hall, you know, Sir Nigel. You can manage with dollops, can't you? Otherwise, he can put up at the village in. Meritan shook his head decisively. Of course not, Mr. Headland. Wouldn't hear of such a thing. Anybody who is going to be useful to you in this case is, as you know, very welcome to Meritian Tires. He won't get much out of Borkins though, I don't mind telling you. Hmm. Well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it, Mr. Narcombe? Returned clique with a smile. Dollops has a way and he knows it. I'll warrant there won't be much that Borkins can keep from the sharp little devil. Well, it seems to be getting dusk rapidly, Sir Nigel. What about those flames now, eh? I'd like to have a look at them if it's possible. Meritan screwed his head round to the window and noted the gathering gloom which the fire and the electric lights within had managed to neutralise. Then he got to his feet. There was a trace of excitement in his manner. Here was the moment he had been waiting for, and here the mastermind which if anything ever could must unravel this fiendish mystery that surrounded two men's disappearances and a group of silly flickering little flames. He turned from the window with his eyes bright. Look here, he said rapidly. They're just beginning to appear. See them? Mr. Clique, see them? Tell me what the Dickens they are and how they are connected with Dacre Wynn's disappearance. Clique got to his feet slowly and strode over to the window. In the gathering gloom of the early winter night the flames were flashing out one by one, here and there and everywhere hanging low against the grass across the bar of horizon directly in front of them. Clique stared at them for a long time. Mr. Narcombe coming up behind him peered out over his shoulder rubbed his eyes looked again and gave out a hasty God bless my soul of genuine astonishment then dropped into silence again his eyes upon Clique's face. Senaigel too was watching that face his own nervous the trifle distraught but Clique stood there at the window with his hands in his trousers pockets humming a little tune and watching this amazing phenomenon which a whole village had believed to be witchcraft as though the things surprised him not one whit as though in fact he was a trifle amused at it which indeed he was. Finally he swung round upon his heels and looked at each of the faces in turn his own broadening into a grin his eyes expressing incredulity, wonderment and lastly mirth at length he spoke God he ejaculated with a little whistle of astonishment you mean to tell me that a whole township hanging by the heels so to speak upon as ridiculously easy an affair as that he jerked his thumb outward toward the flames and threw back his head with a laugh where is your general knowledge which you learnt at school man didn't they teach you any what amazes me most is that there are others forgive me equally ignorant want to know what those flames are eh well rather well well just to think that you've actually been losing sleep on it chose what asses we human beings are doesn't it no offencement of course as for you Mr. Narcombe or Mr. Gregory Lake as I must remember to call you for the good of the cause I'm ashamed of you I am indeed you ought to know better a man of your years but the flames clique the flames there was a tension in meritan's voice that spoke of nerves near to the breaking point instantly clique was serious he reached out a hand and laid it upon the young man's shoulder clique was trembling but he's steadied under the grip just as it was meant that he should see here clique said bluntly you oughtn't to work yourself up into such a state it's not good for you you'll go all to pieces one of these days those flames eh I thought anyone knew enough about natural phenomena to answer that question but it seems I'm wrong those flames are nothing more nor less than marsh gas, Sir Nigel evolved from the decomposition of vegetation and therefore only found in swampy regions such as this and to think that here is a community that has been bowing down to these things as symbols from another world marsh gas, Mr headland please it is wiser and will help better to remember when the necessity arises returned clique with a smile yes that is all they are the outcome of marsh gas but what is marsh gas, Mr headland meritons voice was still strained clique motioned to a chair better sit down to it my young friend he said gently because to one who isn't interested it is an extremely dull subject however it is better that you should know as you don't seem to have learned it at school here goes marsh gas or methane as it is at times called is the first of the group of hydrocarbons known as paraffins whether that conveys anything to you I don't know but you've asked for knowledge and I mean you to have it he smiled again and meriton gravely shook his head while Mr. Narkham dropping for the time being his heir of pompous boredom became the interested listener in every line of his ample brains go on old chap he said eagerly methane said clique serenely is a colourless absolutely odourless gas slightly soluble in water it burns with a yellowish flame which golden tinge you have no doubt noticed in these famous flames of yours with the production of ionic acid and water in the neighbourhood of oil wells in America and also in the Caucasus if my memory doesn't fail me the gas escapes from the earth and in some districts particularly in Baku it has actually been burning for years as sacred fires a question of atmosphere and education you see senegal then you mean to say that those beastly things out there are not lit by any human or superhuman agency at all exploded meriton at this juncture and that they have nothing whatever to do with the vanishing of wind and Collins clique shook his head emphatically pardon me he said but I didn't say that the first part of the sentence I agree with entirely those so called flames are lit only by the hand of the infinite and the infinite is always mysterious senegal but as to whether they have any bearing upon the disappearances of those two men is a horse of another colour we'll look into that later on in coal mines marsh gases considered highly dangerous and the miners call it fire damp but that is by the way what enters into the immediate question is the fact that there is a patch of charred grass upon the fence where you say the vanished man deca wins footprints suddenly ended hmm he stopped speaking suddenly and getting up again over to the window he stood for a moment looking out of it his brows drawn down his face set in the stern lines that betokened concentration of thought Mr. Narcombe and Meritan watched him with something of wonder in their eyes to Meritan at any rate who really knew so little of clique's unique and powerful mind the fact of a policeman having such extensive information was surprising in the extreme you don't think then he said breaking the silence that had fallen upon them that this marsh gas could have caused the death of win and Collins burned him alive so to speak clique did not move at this question they merely saw his shoulders twitch as though he didn't wish to be bothered at the moment don't know he said leconically and if that were true where are the bodies Gadd just as I thought come here gentlemen this may interest you see that flame there it's no more natural marsh gas than I am there's human agency all right sir Nigel there's natural marsh gas and there are other things as well those marsh lights are being augmented but for what purpose what reason that's the thing we've got to find out end of chapter 11 chapter 12 of the riddle of the frozen flame by Mary E. Hanshugh and Thomas W. Hanshugh this LibriVox recording is in the public domain chapter 12 as a thief in the night the arrival of dollops lighted a spark of great interest in the servant's hall the newly engaged maids accepted him for his youth in sharp manners as an innovation that they rather fancied than otherwise Borkin's alone stood aloof it seemed to the man that here in dollops lies young form in the very ginger of his charity hair in the stridentcy of this cockney accent which Kleeck had endeavoured to eradicate without a particle of success was the re-embodiment of the older, shorter, more mature James Collins to hear him speak in that sharp young voice of his was to make the hair upon one's neck prick in supernatural discomfort it was as though James Collins had come back to life again in the form of this eastside youngster who was so extremely unlike his drawing over pampered master but dollops had been primed for his task and set to work at it with a will in these ear-parts long Mr. Borkin's he queried as they all sat at supper and he himself munched bread and butter and fish-paste with a vigour that was lacking in only one quality manners Borkin sniffed and passed up his cup to the housekeeper before you were born I dare say he responded tartly is that so, Methusela? dollops gave a little boyish giggle at sight of the butler's feast well, seeing as I'm getting along in life you must be a good way past the meridian if you don't mind my saying so funny thing on the way down I run across a chat what's visiting pals in this ear village and he pulls me the strangest yarn has ever a body heard something to do with flames it were frozen flames or icicles crossed of some kind but he was so full up of mystery that there weren't now getting nothing out of him anyone here tell me the story if there got me curiosity fired he did a glance laden with sinister meaning flew around the table Borkin's cleared his throat as every eye fastened itself upon him and he swelled visibly beneath his brass and waistcoat if you're any wiser than you look young man you'll leave well alone and not go sticking your fingers in other people's pie he gave out sententiously yes there is a story and a very unpleasant one too if you use your eyes tonight and look out at the smoking room window as dust comes on you'll see the frozen flame for yourself and won't want to be asking me any full questions about it one of the servants here and a rude unmanorly London creature he was too disappeared a while ago going out across the fence after night time when he was warned not to never seen a sight of him since though I'm not mourning any you can see go on dollop's voice expressed incredulity, amazement and an odd interest that rather flattered the buckler true as I'm sitting here he responded grimly and before that a friend of Sir Nigel's a fine big upstanding man he were name of Win went the same way God a little the worse for drink and laughed at the story said he'd go out and investigate for himself he never come back from that day to this God's truth how awful you won't find your umbler anchoring after the fresh air come night time broken dollop's with a little shiver of terror that was remarkably real he downy thank you and as you say Mr. Borkins leave well enough alone you're a wise gentleman you are Borkins flattered still further expanded I won't say as all you cockney chaps are the same as Collins he returned magnanimously for it takes all kinds to make a world if you feel inclined some time I'll walk you down to the pig and whistle and you shall have a word or two with a chap I know he'll tell you're something that'll make your air stand on end you just chuck long to me when you're free and we'll take a little stroll together dollop's countenance widened into a delighted grin later dollop's in the act of laying out Cleek's clothes in a while Cleek himself unpacked leisurely and made the braces that held the mirror of the dressing table gay with multi-colored ties gave up the news of his promised visit to the pig and whistle with the august Borkins with something akin to triumph that's right lad that's right get friendly with them returned Cleek with a pleased smile I've an idea and we're going to have a pretty lively time down here if I'm not much mistaken stick to that chap Borkins as you would to glue don't let him get away from you follow him wherever he goes but don't let the other servants in the place slip out from your watchful eye either those frozen flames want looking into I have grave suspicions of Borkins thought generally knows more than almost any other sort and he appeared to be sizing me up pretty carefully I shouldn't wonder at all if he had an idea already that I am not the man about town I appear to be it will be rotten luck if he has time I got into my togs boy here just hand me that shirt will you that night certainly proved an even more exciting one than Cleek had prophesied the household retired early as country households are up to do but Cleek however did not undress he sat at his window which faced upon the fence watching the trail of the flames dancing across the horizon of night and trying to solve the riddle that he had come to find he heard the church clock in the distance chime out the hour of 12 and still he sat on the peace of the quiet night stole over him filling his active brain with arrestfulness that had been foreign to it for some time in the stress of his busy life in London he felt glad he had taken up this case if only for the view of the countryside at night the stillness of the unchored marshes and the absolute absence of every living thing at this hour the clock chimed one and he heeded it not two half past of a sudden he sat boat upright then got noiselessly to his feet and glided across the floor to where the head stood a monstrous black object with heavy canopy and curtains a relic of the Victorianism in which this house was born he moved like a cat absolutely without sound fleet, sure his fingers found the coverlet and he tore it down tumbling the clothes and pushing down the pillow so that it looked as if he himself peacefully sleeping beneath the sheltering blankets then still noiseless, panther like he slid his lithe figure under the bed then the noise came again just the whisper of footsteps in the wide hall and then his door opened soundlessly and for a moment footsteps stopped he could feel a presence in the room if it were dollops the lad would give some sign if not he lay still scarcely breathing in the enveloping darkness the footsteps came again softly softly padding across the room toward him he saw the black shadows of stocking feet as they crossed the path of moonlight and sucked in his breath man's feet whose then something shook the bedstead with tremendous force but without sound it was as if some object had been hurled forcibly into its softness the footsteps turned again scarcely this time and there was a sound of a deep drawn breath a breath full of pent-up passionate hatred then the figure ran likely across the room and as it flashed for a moment through the bar of moonlight clique looked out from his safe hiding place and saw the eyes were narrowed in the ivory tinted face more heavy and undershot as a bulldog's while a dark coloured moustache straggled untidily across the upper lip the moonlight cruelly clear picked out the point of something sharp that shone in one clenched hand something that looked like a knife that was a knife then the figure vanished and the door closed noiselessly behind him hmm so this question of the frozen flame was as urgent as all that was it to attempt to murder him here in the house of the squire of fetchworth he wriggled out of his hiding place a little stiff from the cramped position he had held and guardedly lit his candle then he surveyed the bed with set mouth and narrowed eyes there was a sharp incision through the clothes an incision quite three inches long that had punctured the pillow which lay beneath them the pillow that had saved him his life and buried itself in the mattress beneath God! a powerful hand that he stood a moment thinking pinching up his chin the while he had had his suspicions of Borkin's but the face that he had seen in the moonlight was not the buckler's face who's then was it end of chapter 12 chapter 13 of the riddle of the frozen flame by Mary E. Hanshaw and Thomas W. Hanshaw this Librivox recording is in the public domain chapter 13 a gruesome discovery through the long watches of the night clique sat there thinking his chin sunk in one hand his eyes narrowed down to pinpoints the whole alert personality of the man vitally dominant no he would not tell any one of the happening except dollops and Mr. Narcombe it would only invite suspicion throw the house into a state of unrest which was the very thing that he was anxious to avoid as dawn broke and the danger for that night was passed he got to his feet plunged his face into cold water which cleared away the cobwebs undressed and then tackled the question of the injured bedding the mattress could be turned that was easy enough and the slit would probably not be noticed the bed clothes too might be turned the other way up and with care the injured parts tucked in tightly at the bottom it would leave them a little short at the top perhaps but that couldn't be helped suspicion must be allayed at all costs time enough to bring the would-be murderer to justice when he had solved the riddle in its entirety there were two pillows so he took the damaged one tore off its case and tucked that away in his kit bag pushed the bag under the bed and then set about the remaking with some small success at least for the time the incisions in the blanket and sheets would not be noticed and in the morning he would invent some excuse to have them changed the early morning cup of tea brought at eight by a dainty chambermaid in cap and starched blue dress supplied the need quite nicely he nodded to her as she left the room and then when the door closed upset the cup on the coverlet letting the liquid soak through then he got up and dressed himself with something like a smile upon his lips at breakfast a housemaid waited upon them and clique ate lustily with the appetite that is born of good health and a mind at peace with the world toward the end of the meal however borkins came in he glanced casually over the group at the table let his eyes rest for a moment upon clique and then dropped an empty dish he was carrying as he stooped to recover it all chance of seeing how the appearance of the man who had so nearly met his death last night affected him was gone he came up again still the same quiet dignified borkins of yore not a gleam of anything but the most obsequious interest in the task before him marred the tranquility of his features if the man knew anything then he was a fine actor but did he that was the question that interested clique during the remainder of the meal after it was over Mr. Narkham and Sir Nigel went off to the smoking room for a quiet cigarette before setting to the real business of the day and clique was left to follow them at his leisure borkins was pottering about the table as the two men left the breakfast room and clique stood in the doorway peaceful night last night eh borkins he said with a slight laugh there's the best of this blessed country life of yours chat rests so well talk about the simple life he broke off and laughed again watching borkins pick up a clean fork and carry it to the plate basket upon the sideboard the man retained his perfect dignity and ease of manner quite so sir quite so I trust you slept well pretty well for a strange bed returned clique with emphasis and turned upon his heel if you see my man you might send him along to me I want to arrange with him about suits that are coming down from my tailors very good sir clique joined the two men with something akin to admiration for the buckler's impassiveness in his heart if he knew anything then he was a past master in the art of repression on the other hand perhaps he didn't there was really no reason why he should eavesdropping was a common enough fault with the best of servants and curiosity a failing of most men borkins might be and possibly was absolutely innocent of any knowledge of last night's affair and yet how did the knowledge that he was not all together what he seemed leak out it was a puzzle to which as yet clique could find no answer Mr. Narkham greeted clique enthusiastically when he joined him I'm off on a tour of investigation in a few minutes he announced Petrie and Hammond arrived last night as you know and are putting up at the village in I'm meeting them at the edge of the fence at ten o'clock then we're going to have a good look see if we can find the bodies of the two men who have vanished you coming along clique nodded and the queer little one-sided smile travelled up his cheek certainly my dear leg I'd be delighted as Sir Nigel of course has other business to attend to it's ten minutes to ten now if you're going you'd better step lively ah as dollops figure appeared in the doorway if you'll excuse me Sir Nigel I'll just have a word or two with my man his voice dropped several tones as he addressed the boy and they moved away together Mr. Lake and I are going out for a walk across the fence Petrie and Hammond will be there at ten I'd like you to join them better nip along now yes sir and dollops he beckoned him back and bent his head to the lad's ear speaking in a voice that none heard but the one it was intended for keep a sharp look out I had a narrow escape last night someone tried to stab me in bed but he got my pillow instead golden mercy governor shh and there's no need to worry I'm still here see but keep your eyes and your ears open and if you see any strange men hanging around report to me at once dollops usually pale freckled countenance went to shade paler and he caught it clique's arm as though he were loathed to let it go but Sir he whispered in a horse undertone you won't go knocking about alone will ya nothing were to happen to you I'd go along and commit that there arum scarum what the Japanese are so fond of doing on the spot clique could barely restrain a laugh the whispered conversation had taken the merest fraction of a minute and during it he had had full view of the green bay's door which led down to the servant's quarters borkins had gone through it some time before then he heard the butler's deep measured tones in the garden and caught sight of him talking to one of the grooms in the courtyard he heaved something like a sigh of relief dollops left and clique then rejoined the two men who stood talking together in low earnest tones now said he briskly if you're ready Mr. Lake I am let us be off so Nigel I hope by dinner time to have some sort of news to impart to you whether good or ill remains to be seen by the way have you in your employ a dark square faced individual with close set eyes and a straggling moustache rather undershot too I believe it would be interesting to me to know Meriton considered for a moment tell it was a truth Mr. Hedlund I can't fit the description in anywhere among the people here he said after a pause dimmocks fairish though he has got a moustache but it's a military one and borkins is of course smooth shaven the other men are clean shaved too except for old Doughty the head gardener and he wears a full beard why clique shook his head nothing important I was only just wondering now then Lake you'll be late if you loiter any longer and our friends will be waiting good bye son Nigel and good luck lunch at 115 I take it he swung upon his heel and linked his arm with Mr. Narcams then taking his cap from a peg on the hall stand clapped it on his head and went down and out to the task that awaited him and a discovery which was to say the least of it startling in the extreme they walked for some time in comparative silence puffing at their cigarettes then of a sudden clique spoke I say old man you'll want to keep a close look your own personal safety he said abruptly wheeling round and meeting his friend full in the eyes what do you mean what I say someone's got wind of our real purpose here I have a grave suspicion that that Borkins was listening at my door last evening when I was talking to dollops later well somebody or other tried to get me in but I was one too many for him my dear clique Mr. Lake I beg of you not so loud ejaculated clique there are ears everywhere which you as a policeman ought to know do remember my name and don't go losing any sleep over me I can take care of myself all right but I had to do it pretty last night a thoughtful visitor stabbed the pillow I placed in bed instead of my humble self and cut an incision three inches deep hit the mattress too HEDLAND my god now don't take on so I tell you I can take care of myself but you do the same no one in the house knows a word about it I don't intend that they shall the less said the better in a case like this only those frozen flames are trying to eat up something that is either very serious or very money making one thing or the other hello here we are morning Patrick morning Hammond all ready for the search I see the two constables clad in plain clothes and accompanied by dollops were holding in their hands long pitchforks which looked more as if they were ready for hay-making than for the gruesome task ahead of them all Petrie carried upon his arm a roll of rope they swung into step behind the detectives across the uneven marshy ground it was a chilly morning and inclined to rain across the flat horizon the mist hung in wraith-like forms of cloudy grey and the deep grass into which they plunged their feet was beaded with dew for a time they walked on quietly until they had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile then clique halted better separate here he said waving his arm out across the sweep of flat country dollops you take the right she Hammond you'd better try the left Mr. Narkham and I will go straight ahead together any discovery made just give the usual signal they separated at once their feet upon the thick marshy ground leaving numberless footprints in the moist rank grass which crushed under them like wet hay their heads were bent their eyes fixed upon the ground their faces bearing a look of utter concentration clique watched them moving slowly across the wide flat reaches of the fens stopping now and then to poke among the rank marsh grass and prod into the earth and then turned to Mr. Narkham good fellows those three he said with a smile what more can you ask than that straight ahead for us Mr. Narkham so Nigel tells me the patch of charred grass lies in a direct line with the edge of the fens where we started our search I'm keen to have a look at it Mr. Narkham nodded and walked on poking here and there with his stout walking stick clique did likewise they rarely spoke simply pushed and poked and trod the grass down searching, searching, searching as had those other men upon the night of Daker Wind's disappearance but they had searched in vain for any clue which would lead to the elucidation of the mystery suddenly clique stopped he pointed a little ahead of him with his walking stick there you are said he briskly the patch of charred grass he strode up to it stopped and bent his eyes upon it then suddenly exclaimed look here below at the roots the fresh grass is springing up in little tender green shoots that patch will disappear shortly and he stopped and sucked in his breath wheeling round upon Mr. Narkham when you come to think of it why shouldn't it have grown up already there has been time enough since the man wind's disappearance to cover up all those singed ends in a new growth can't be that it's done on purpose and yet why is it still here perhaps some sign or something suggested Mr. Narkham possibly something of the sort and if we have signs then there must be something human behind all this talk of supernatural agents returned clique let us take it that this patch of charred grass hide something or marks the way to something something buried underneath it or lying nearby eh, what's that that was a cat call ringing out across the misty silences from the direction in which dollops and petty had gone they found something cried out Mr. Narkham in a horse whisper of excitement obviously well this other thing will wait we'll go after them the two of them hastened off in the direction of the repeated cat call and soon came upon dollops bending over something rather scared just as Hammond arrived from the other direction in answer to the summons Petrie too appeared rather nervous as clique came up to them his eyes fell upon the ground and he stopped, stock still Gad, where did you find it? here sir half buried but with the aid a sticking out returned Petrie dollops and I pulled it out here it is clique glanced down at the body of a heavily built man clad in evening clothes and already in an advanced state of decomposition looks like it was that chap win he said in a matter of fact tone answers the description all right the other man was short and red headed and the evening clothes are well cut from what I can see must have been a handsome chap once wow we'll have to get this very gruesome find back to the towers as quickly as possible got your oil skin with you Petrie yes sir Petrie miraculously produced the roll from under his tunic and spread the sheet out then they lifted up the body and wrapped it about so that the covering hid the awfulness of it from view and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief cinnamon clique he ejaculated breathlessly pretty awful isn't it was it much hidden Petrie funny the other people didn't find it when they searched now sir plain as a pike stuff returned Petrie importantly for he felt the burden of responsibility and hoped that this would mean promotion dollops who was by no means a regular member of the force simply looked at clique with considerable pride fighting through the natural horror that the find had given birth to funny thing broke in clique at this juncture the only solution must be that the body was placed there sometime after death leave it a little longer boys and we'll have a further search in this direction we may come upon poor Collins in a similar fashion though thank heaven his disappearance didn't happen quite so long ago they took a few steps farther in the same direction and stopped simultaneously before their eyes lay the figure of Collins in his discreet black clothes his red head against a tuffet of moss and a bullet wound in his temple God said clique softly and sucked in his breath two of them and like this looks like a plant doesn't it poor chap and yet Meritan declared that he as well as others had searched every inch of this ground over and over again seems fishy to find them both here so close together let's have a look at the other poor chap hmm bullet wound through the right temple too small caliber revolver he bent down and examined the head carefully through his magnifying glass then got slowly to his feet well Mr. Narcombe said he is steadily nothing to be done at present but to get these bodies back to the towers after that they can take them to the village mortuary if they like but I have one or two things I'd like to ask you Meritan and one or two things I want to examine God it's a beastly task boys that sheet's big enough thank fortune cross the pitchforks Petrie and make a sort of stretcher out of them that way that's right now then forward God what a morning but if he had known just exactly what the rest of that morning was to bring forth indeed before lunch was served at one fifteen he might have hesitated to pass judgment upon it so soon slowly the cavalcade wended its way across the rank grass end of chapter 13 chapter 14 of the riddle of the frozen flame by Mary E. Henshu and Thomas W. Henshu this Librivox recording is in the public domain chapter 14 the spin of the wheel Meritan stood at the study window looking out and pulling at his cigar with an air of profound meditation upon the hearth rug Dr. Bartholomew clad in baggy tweeds stood tugging at his beard watched the man's back with kindly troubled eyes don't like it neither my boy don't like it at all he ejaculated suddenly in his close-lipped fashion these detectives are the very devil to pay get them in one's house and they're like doctors including of course my humble self difficult to get out part of the profession my boy but a beastly nuisance seems to me I'd rather have the mystery than the men simpler anyway and these you know are heavy Meritan swung round upon his heel suddenly his brows like a thunder-cloud I don't care a damn about that he broke out angrily let them take every penny I've got so long as they solve the thing but I can't get away from it I just can't light and day like the sword of Damocles until the mystery of wind's disappearances cleared up I tell you Twanette and I can't marry she feels the same and we've the house all ready you know everything fixed and in order except this when poor old Collins disappeared too I found I'd reached my limit so here these detectives are and on the whole jolly decent chaps I find them Dr. Bartholomew shrugged his shoulders as if to say have it your own way my boy but what he really did say was what are their names Young Chaps Hedlund George or John Hedlund I don't remember quite which other ones Lake Gregory Lake hmm good name that Nigel ought to be some brains behind it but I never did pin my faith on policemen you know boy Scott and Yards made so many mistakes that if it hadn't been for that chat clique they'd have ruined themselves altogether now he's a man if you like pity you couldn't get him while you're about it the impulse to tell who George Hedlund really was to this firm friend who had been more than a father to him even in the old days he had made a point of dropping down upon him informally ever since the trouble over Dacre Wynne's disappearance took hold of Nigel but he shook it off he had given his word and if he could not tell Toinet then no other soul in the universe should know so he simply tossed his shoulders and going back to the window looked out of it to hide the something of triumph which had stolen into his face truth to tell he was obsessed with a feeling that something was going to happen and happen soon the premonition to one who was not used to such things carried all the more conviction with clique on the track anything might happen clique was a man for whom things never stood still and his amazing brain was concentrated upon this problem as it had been concentrated successfully upon others Meriton had a feeling that it was only a matter of time then just as he was standing there humming something softly beneath his breath the cavalcade headed by clique and Mr. Narcombe rather grim and silent reached the gateway behind them Meriton gave a sudden say which brought the doctor to his side behind them three men were carrying something bulky and large and wrapped in a black oil skin talpaulin and one of the men was headland servant dollops he recognized that even as his inner consciousness told him that his something was about to happen now they found the body he exclaimed in a horse excited voice fairly running to the front door and throwing it open with a crash that rang through the old house from floor to rafters and brought Borkin's scuttling up the kitchen stairs at a pace that was ill befitting his age and dignity Meriton gave him a curt order have the morning room door thrown open and the surfer pulled out from against the wall my friends have been for a walk across the fence and have found something you can see them coming up the drive what do you make of it gold a accident sir noidro said Borkin's in a shaky voice ad noid better tell mrs. mummery to put the blue bedroom in order and have plenty of hot water no Meriton was running down the front steps and flung the answer back over his shoulder can't you use your eyes it's a body you fool a body Borkin's gasped a moment and then stood still his thin lips sucked in his face unpleasant to see he was alone in the hallway for dr. Bartholomew's fat figure was waddling in Meriton's wake he put up his fist and shook it in their direction pity it ain't your body young upstart that you are he muttered beneath his breath and turned toward the morning-room meanwhile Meriton had reached the solemn little party and was walking back beside clique his face chalky the pupils of his eyes had trifled dilated with excitement found him found him both you say mr. headland he kept on repeating over and over again as they mounted the steps together good god what a strange what a peculiar thing I swear there was no sight nor sign of them when I've jumped over the fence dozens of times I don't know what to make of it I don't indeed oh we'll make something of it all right returned clique with a sharp look at him for there was one thing wanted to find out and he meant to do that as soon as possible two and two you know put together properly always make four it's only the fools of the world that add wrong if you'd had as much practice as I've had in dealing with humanity you'd find it was an ever increasing astonishment to see the way things dovetail in who's this by the way he jerked his head in the direction of the doctor who had stopped at the foot of the steps and waited for them to come up to him oh a very old friend of mine mr. headland dr. Bartholomew has a very big practice in town but a trifle eccentric as you can see it fast glance clique sent his keen eyes over the odd looking figure in the worn tweeds I see then can you tell me how he finds time to run down here at leisure and visit you seems to me a man with a big practice never has enough time to work it in at least that has been my experience of doctors meritan flushed angrily at the tone he whipped his head round and met clique's cool gaze hotly I know you're down here to investigate the case but I don't think there's any reason for you to start suspecting my friends he retorted his eyes flashing dr. Bartholomew has a partner if you want to know and also he's supposed to be retired but he carries on for the love of the thing best man ever breathed remember that clique smiles to himself at the sudden onslaught the young pepper pot yet he liked him for the loyal defense of his friend nevertheless there were all too few creatures in the world who found it impossible to suspect those whom they cared for and who cared for them sorry to have given any offense I'm sure he said smoothly none was meant right enough sir Nigel but a policeman has an unpleasant duty you know keep his eyes and his ears open so if you find mine open too far any time just tip me the wink and I'll shut him up again oh that's all right said meritan mollified and a trifle shame faced at the outburst then with an effort to turn the conversation think of finding them both mr. headland were they very awful pretty awful returned clique quietly hey mr. lake God bless my soul yes threw in that gentleman with a shudder then boys if you don't mind he took the attitude of a casual acquaintance with his two assistants who helped to bear the burden come along inside this way that's it where did you say meritan into the morning room all right our borkins has been getting things ready I see that couch is a broad one good thing as there are two of them two of them sir exclaimed borkins suddenly throwing up his hands his eyes wide with horror mr. narkham nodded with something of traditional triumph in his look two of them borkins and the second one if I don't make any mistake answers to the description of James Collins hey headland clique gave him a sudden look that spoke volumes it came over him in a flash that narkham had said too much that it wasn't the casual visitors place to know the servant who was not there at the time of his visit looked like at least that's as far as I can make out from what's an idol told me of him the other day he's supplemented in an effort to make amends now then boys put them there on the couch poor things I warn you son idol this isn't going to be a pleasant sight but you've got to go through with it I'm afraid the police will want identification made of course hand you better phone the local branch someone ought to be here in charge you know meritan nodded he was so stunned at the actuality of these two men's deaths at the knowledge that their bodies lifeless, extinct were here in his morning room that he had stood like an image making no move, no sound yes yes he said rapidly waving a hand in borkin's direction see that it's done at once please tell Constable Roberts to come along with a couple of his men very decent of these chaps to give you a hand Mr. Lake that's your man dollops isn't it headland well hadn't he better take him downstairs and give him a stiff whiskey and soda I expect the poor beggars have need of it clique held up a silencing hand no he said firmly not just yet I think they may be needed for evidence when the Constable comes now he crossed over to where the bodies lay and gently removed the covering meritan went suddenly white while the doctor more used to such sights bit his lips and laid a steadying hand upon the younger man's arm my god cried Senaigel despairingly how did they meet their death clique reached down a finger and gently touched a blackened spot upon wind's temple shot through the head and the bullet penetrated the brain he said quietly small caliber revolver too there's your frozen flame for you my friend but he was hardly prepared for the event that followed for at this statement meritan threw a hand out suddenly as though warding off a blow took a step forward and peered at that which had once been his friend and enemy and then gave out a strangled cry shot through the head he fairly shrieked as Borkins came quietly into the room and stopped short at the sound of his master's voice i'd tell you it's impossible impossible it wasn't my shot mr headland it couldn't have been end of chapter 14