Missing or Murdered by Robin Forsythe

bureau. Touching a hidden spring at the top of the bureau, a small drawer shot out at the bottom. It contained one letter which he withdrew and brought over to Vereker.
    â€œThat’s all there is beyond what you’ve already seen,” he said.
    Vereker took the envelope from his hand and extracting a sheet of note-paper discovered that it was a simple receipt for ten thousand pounds worth of bearer bonds. The written address at the head of the note-paper was 10 Glendon Street, W., and the signature, “Muriel Cathcart.”
    â€œYou knew all along of the existence of this receipt, Smale?” he asked.
    â€œI did,” came the laconic reply.
    â€œWhy did you hide the matter from Inspector Heather?”
    â€œI’m Lord Bygrave’s confidential secretary—you, I presume, are his friend. Verb. sap. ”
    â€œI see. It’s rather risky, you know.”
    â€œI don’t mind that. What can Inspector Heather do to me?”
    â€œHe might make things very unpleasant, Smale. As a matter of fact, he has just gone off to verify your account of putting up in a Soho hotel.”
    â€œHas he? He won’t find any trace of my temporary sojourn there, Vereker.”
    â€œDidn’t you put up in a Soho hotel?”
    â€œNot I, Vereker. Now, I’ll be frank with you. I met, as I have said before, one or two friends and after a very good dinner and the pouring out of copious libations to the gods, we hied us to a West End gambling den known to me. This would sound very dreadful to Inspector Heather; but, unlike certain wealthy and yet very respectable members of society, I cannot afford to visit Monte Carlo for a little harmless excitement, so I pay an occasional visit to the tables—much nearer home. We played chemmy, trente-et-quarante and roulette and my expenditure for the whole evening, counting my gains and losses, was under a tenner. That wasn’t deadly. I wasn’t going to give Heather the address of my little casino, so I had to lie, point-blank.
    â€œIndiscreet,” remarked Vereker.
    â€œIndiscretion is not a crime,” replied Smale. “If I had made Heather my father confessor, so to speak, I should have compromised others. It simply couldn’t be done.”
    Vereker was silent for some moments. “Have you ever seen this Mrs. Cathcart?” he asked.
    â€œI got a glimpse of her when she came here. She only came once, about six months ago. She was heavily veiled and I doubt whether I could recognize her again.”
    â€œYou don’t know if she is still at the London address on that receipt?”
    â€œI know absolutely nothing about her. Bygrave never mentioned the matter to me. It was not my business to be unduly inquisitive.”
    â€œI wonder what claim she had on Bygrave?” said Vereker.
    â€œPossibly none at all. Lord Bygrave was very generous in his charity, especially when he came up against a deserving case. He always, however, made a meticulous inquiry into tales of woe. He was no fool.”
    â€œWell, I must be off,” said Vereker. “But before I go, can you tell me, Smale, if one of the drawers of that bureau had been forced before you left for Paris?”
    Mr. Smale started involuntarily, but made a swift recovery of his composure. He rose and walked over to the bureau and carefully examined the drawer.
    â€œIt may have been. I can’t say I noticed it. However, Bygrave was a perfect artist at losing his keys. He has broken open half the drawers in the house at one time or another.”
    â€œThanks. I’m going over to Hartwood for a day or two. If there’s anything you want, let me know. As trustee under Lord Bygrave’s will, I’m taking charge.”
    â€œGood. I’ll expect my orders from you. For the present I suppose I’d better carry on as usual?”
    â€œJust so. Good day.”              
    On the way to the station