Missing or Murdered by Robin Forsythe

my ideas about the business. Of course you may have considered this aspect yourself. In any case, I couldn’t rest until I’d seen you.”
    â€œGo ahead, Mr. Grierson. I’m hungry for ideas.”
    Mr. Grierson smiled wanly.
    â€œHave you considered the possibility that Lord Bygrave may have voluntarily disappeared?”
    â€œI have; but dismissed it long since from my mind.”
    â€œWell, well, you may be justified. I myself, not knowing as much as you, have been unable to disregard the contingency. Working on this basis, if you come to a point in your researches which might end in involving his lordship in a grave scandal, I trust you will be diplomatic—”
    Vereker glanced sharply up at Mr. Grierson’s face; but Mr. Grierson was gazing earnestly at the pattern of the carpet. His brow was deeply furrowed.
    â€œDon’t misunderstand me,” he continued. “I am not acting on any secret or private information. I am simply trying to obviate anything that would ruin Lord Bygrave’s career or dishonour his name. For ten years now I’ve been his trusted right-hand man officially. I should never forgive myself if Lord Bygrave by any chance could say to me at some future date: ‘What the devil were you doing, Grierson? I was relying on you as a man of tact and initiative. In my absence you were my deputy. Why didn’t you try and put a stop to this stupid public inquiry as to my whereabouts?’ Can you see the position in which I am placed, Mr. Vereker?”
    Mr. Grierson looked up, his eyes were brimming with tears. His voice was broken. He was trembling under the stress of a great emotion.
    â€œMr. Grierson,” replied Vereker, impressed by the old civil servant’s loyalty to his Chief. “If at any point in my inquiries I discover that Lord Bygrave is alive and well, I shall promptly let the matter end there as far as I’m concerned. As for Heather—well, for him I cannot vouch. But I think you may safely leave it to me—I’ll see Heather himself about the matter. If it was a private personal matter of Lord Bygrave’s that he should choose to vanish from the world, I should not think that the police will concern themselves as long as it touches no public interest.”
    â€œThen I’m heart and soul with you, Mr. Vereker, and I hope you’ll prosecute your inquiry with the utmost vigour. Your assurance has taken a load off my mind.”
    Mr. Grierson extended his hand and shook Vereker’s warmly. Glancing at his watch, he found that he had just time to catch a train back to town and promptly took his leave.
    He had hardly gone before Inspector Heather returned.
    â€œWell,” he asked, “what was troubling old Grierson, Mr. Vereker?”
    â€œI’ll tell you all as soon as Farnish brings up that bottle of port. I have just rung for him. I know you won’t object to a bottle of ’81, Heather, after your day’s exertions.”
    â€œYou know I don’t like good port,” replied Heather, with a broad grin, as he settled himself opposite Vereker in a comfortable arm-chair.
    â€œBefore I tell you anything about Mr. Grierson’s errand, Heather,” said Vereker later, as he carefully filled two glasses with what he called Falernum Opimianum, “please confide in me the nature of all your telegrams of to-day. You’re up to some little game of your own behind my back.”
    â€œOh, nothing much,” smiled the inspector broadly. “I’ve only put another line of inquiry into motion. I ordered young Winslade to be carefully watched some days ago, and one of my men has just been keeping me acquainted with the result of his work and inquiries.”
    â€œThe devil you have! Well, that’s an unfair start. I’m going down to Hartwood to-morrow to see Winslade. As for Grierson—well, he is anxious that we should go cautiously in case Lord Bygrave has