Death in the Tunnel by Miles Burton Page A

there when Turner looked in, at which time the train was gathering speed again. He cannot have left the first-class coach by unlocking one of the doors at the end of the corridor, for Turner and his assistant were approaching the coach from opposite directions, and one or other must have seen him.
    â€œI can think of only two possibilities. He may have gone into one of the lavatories, and there removed his disguise. Later, he may have gone along the train, and taken a seat in one of the thirds, whose occupants were not questioned. Or he may have left the train as it slowed down in the tunnel. Since it was slowed down intentionally by some unauthorised person, that seems to me the most likely theory.”
    Merrion nodded. “So it does to me. And subsequently two men, carrying a heavy battery between them, left the tunnel without being spotted. And that seems to me to need a devil of a lot of explanation.”
    â€œExplanation or no explanation, they must have left it. They weren’t there yesterday afternoon, as we know well enough. And I think we may take it that they weren’t there when the railwaymen looked through the tunnel on Friday morning. Now, people don’t hold up trains just for fun, at least not in this country. Nor do they jump off them in tunnels just because they feel they’d like to stretch their legs a bit. There must have been some very good reason for these happenings. One naturally concludes that the shooting of Sir Wilfred constituted this reason.
    â€œBut, as you probably realise as well as I do, there is no conclusive evidence to prove that the man with the beard was the murderer. We don’t know that he entered Sir Wilfred’s compartment and shot him. We only believe that he had the opportunity of doing so. And as for your motive, the wish to secure the object X, that’s pure guess-work.”
    â€œIt’s rather more than that, if it’s correct that the wallets were interchanged,” said Merrion thoughtfully. “You’ve got the numbers of those five-pound notes, I suppose? It’s a very faint hope, but there’s just the chance that you may be able to trace them.”
    â€œYes, I’ve got the numbers. Hallo, here we are at that confounded tunnel again! Well, I’d rather go through it in the train than the way we did yesterday.”
    â€œSo would I. I thought I was going to be suffocated before we got half-way through. Half-way through? By Gad, I believe I’ve got it!”
    â€œGot what?” Arnold demanded.
    â€œThe essential brainwave. No, I’m not going into details now. It may be one of those flights of my imagination which don’t come off somehow. What are you doing to-morrow morning?”
    â€œI meant to take the day off, but I’m not sure now that I can.”
    â€œOh, yes, you can. I’ll show you a way of combining business with pleasure. We’ll take an early train to Blackdown, and then go hiking together. Oh, yes, we will. It’ll do you all the good in the world. Besides, there are some very good pubs in those parts, I believe. So we’ll take it as settled.”

IX
    Arnold allowed himself to be persuaded. He knew by experience that Merrion never acted from mere caprice. There was also some good, if sometimes imaginative reason, for what he did.
    So the pair of them arrived at Blackdown station about ten o’clock on Monday morning, and avoiding the station-master walked into the town. Here they took the main road leading southwards, and followed it for rather more than a mile. On reaching a signpost, Merrion consulted a map which he had brought with him. They turned to the right, along a secondary road, which carried comparatively little traffic. Some distance along this, they came to a grassy lane, which wandered off through a wood. After another glance at his map, Merrion decided that they would take this. They passed through the wood, and emerged upon an open expanse of