CHAPTER 13-3

 

　　"Yes. He always came to us. He wrote wellbeforehand to retain his room. He was much less vague on paper than he was in real life.He asked for a room from the 17th to the 21st. during that time heexpected to be away for one or two nights, and he explained that he wished to keep hisroom on while he was away. He quite often did that."

　　"When did you begin to get worried about him?"asked Campbell.

　　"Well, I didn‘treally. Of course it was awkward. You see, his room was let on from the 23rdand when I realised – I didn’t atfirst – that he hadn‘t come backfrom Lugano –”

　　"I’ve got Lucerne herein my notes," said Campbell.

　　"Yes, yes, I think it was Lucerne. SomeArchaeological Congress or other. Anyway, when I realised he hadn‘t come back here and that his baggage was still here waiting in his room, itmade things rather awkward. You see, we are very booked up at this time of year and I hadsomeone else coming into his room. The Honourable Mrs. Saunders, who lives at Lyme Regis.She always has that room. And then his housekeeper rang up. She was worried."

　　"The housekeeper’sname is Mrs. McCrae, so I understand from Archdeacon Simmons. Do you know her?"

　　"Not personally, no, but I have spoken to her onthe telephone once or twice. She is, I think, a very reliable woman and has been withCanon Pennyfather for some years. She was worried naturally. I believe she and ArchdeaconSimmons got in touch with near friends and relations but they knew nothing of CanonPennyfather‘s movements. And since he was expecting theArchdeacon to stay with him it certainly seemed very odd – infact it still does – that the Canon should not have returnedhome."

　　"Is this Canon usually as absent-minded as that?"asked Father.

　　Miss Gorringe ignored him. This large man,presumably the accompanying sergeant, seemed to her to be pushing himself forward a littletoo much.

　　"And now I understand," continued Miss Gorringe, in an annoyed voice, "andnow I understand from Archdeacon Simmons that the Canon never even went to this conferencein Lucerne."

　　"Did he send any message to say he wouldn’t go?"

　　"I don‘t think so –not from here. No telegram or anything like that. I really know nothingabout Lucerne – I am really only concerned with our side ofthe matter. It has got into the evening papers, I see – thefact that he is missing, I mean. They haven’t mentioned he wasstaying here. I hope they won‘t. we don’t want the Press here, our visitors wouldn‘t likethat at all. if you can keep them off us, Inspector Campbell, we should be very grateful.I mean it’s not as if he had disappeared from here."

　　"His luggage is still here?"

　　"Yes. In the baggage-room. If he didn‘t go to Lucerne, have you considered the possibility of his being run over?Something like that?"

　　"Nothing like that has happened to him."

　　"It really does seem very, very curious,"said Miss Gorringe, a faint flicker of interest appearing in hermanner, to replace the annoyance. "I mean, it does make onewonder where he could have gone and why?"

　　Father looked at her comprehendingly.

　　"Of course," he said. "You’ve only been thinking of it from the hotelangle. Very natural."

　　"I understand," saidInspector Campbell, referring once more to his notes, "thatCanon Pennyfather left here about six-thirty on the evening of Thursday the 19th.He had with him a small overnight bag and he left here in a taxi, directing thecommissionaire to tell the driver to drive to the Athenaeum Club."

　　Miss Gorringe nodded her head.

　　"Yes, he dined at the Athenaeum Club – Archdeacon Simmons told me that that was the place he was last seen."

　　There was a firmness in Miss Gorringe‘s voice as she transferred the responsibility of seeing the Canon last fromBertram’s Hotel to the Athenaeum Club.

　　"Well, it‘s nice toget the facts straight," said Father in a gentle rumblingvoice. "We’ve got ‘em straight now. He went off with his little blue B.O.A.C. bag, or whateverhe’d got with him – it was a blueB.O.A.C. bag, yes? He went off and he didn‘t come back, andthat’s that."

　　"So you see, really I cannot help you," said Miss Gorringe showing a disposition to rise to her feet and get back towork.

　　"It doesn‘t seem as ifyou could help us," said Father, "butsomeone else might be able to, he added."

　　"Someone else?"

　　"Why, yes," saidFather. "One of the staff perhaps."

　　"I don’t think anyoneknows anything; or they would certainly have reported it to me."

　　"Well, perhaps they might. Perhaps they mightn‘t. what I mean is, they’d have told you id they‘d distinctly know anything. But I was thinking more of something he mighthave said."

"What sort of thing?" saidMiss Gorringe, looking perplexed.