Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Journalists -- Fiction; Murderers -- Fiction
Up to this point I had, as far as possible, avoided visiting the island
myself, but I now came to the conclusion that the time had come when it
would be necessary to carry on my investigations in person. Fortunately
there was not wanting an excuse by which I could do so without arousing
suspicion. My friend Muir, who is an ardent sportsman, rents a part
of Canvey to shoot over. Hence he is a very familiar figure there, and
is known and loved by every man, woman, child, and dog. To go as his
friend would, I knew, insure me a ready welcome, so I got him to row
me over once or twice in his boat, and then, when we had been seen
frequently in each other’s company, to ask the landlord of the inn at
Hole Haven to find me a bed for a week or two, as I was a friend of his
who had come to Canvey for some shooting. By this means I was able to
keep a constant watch upon the “Cuban Queen” without being noticed by
Hughes, for the sea-wall, as I have elsewhere said, was so high that,
standing outside, one is invisible from the water, but anybody inside,
who wishes to look out to sea, can walk up the sloping bank on the
inner side of the wall until his eyes are level with the top, and then
can peer through the long weedy grasses without attracting attention.
A week passed uneventfully, and then Muir came over, accompanied by
Quickly, for an afternoon’s shooting. After a late lunch we made our
way on foot, and inside the sea-wall, towards the eastern end of the
island. My interest in the sport was not very keen, for I was keeping
half an eye meanwhile upon the hulk; but by the time we started to
retrace our steps it was becoming dark. Just as we reached the point
off which the “Cuban Queen” was lying I fancied I heard the stealthy
dip of oars, and asking Muir and Quickly to wait a moment, I peered
over the sea-wall. Some one was coming on shore from the “Cuban Queen”
under cover of twilight, and instead of making for the usual “hard”
at Hole Haven, the oarsman, whoever he might be, clearly intended
effecting a landing in some more secluded spot. I stole softly back
to Muir and Quickly, telling them what I had seen, and asking them to
crouch down with me under cover of some bushes to wait events.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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