Collected works of j s f.., p.802
Collected Works of J S Fletcher, page 802
Charlesworth had listened to all this with deep interest; Mr. Gilford’s story aroused new ideas, new possibilities in his mind. He made no reply to the solicitor’s question, but Harding made the obvious one.
“I should think he’d lock it up when he got home, sir,” he said. “There’s a safe there, in that corner, and I suppose there’ll be a key in this bunch. I’d better hand these keys over to you?”
“Well, as I’m his partner, and am also one of his executors,” replied Gilford, “I suppose you had. What is imperative is that we should at once make an exhaustive and thorough search for that necklace. Now tell me — is there anyone in the house, any member of the family, any servant, who saw Sir Charles after he got home last night?”
“No, sir!” said Harding. “There’s no one. Sir Charles was not seen by anybody in this house last night after his return.”
“That is — as far as we know,” remarked Charlesworth. “We have not been able to ascertain that anyone did see him. But,” he turned to Harding and smiled, “we don’t know for a positive fact that somebody didn’t!”
“My information,” retorted Harding, a little resentfully, “is that nobody did! I’ve no evidence that anybody did.”
“Well, I must examine the contents of that safe,” said Gilford. “And in fact every place in which he might have deposited the necklace. And I must see Lady Stanmore and Mrs. John Stanmore — probably he showed the necklace to both. It’s got to be found!”
The two police officials stood by while Gilford opened the safe and examined its contents. The diamond necklace was not amongst them. Nor was it in any of the drawers in the dead man’s desk, nor in a cabinet that stood close by, nor anywhere in that room. Nor was it in any drawer or cupboard in his bedroom, nor in his dressing-room. And neither Lady Stanmore nor Mrs. John Stanmore, duly interviewed and questioned by Gilford, had seen or even heard of it.
Gilford turned despairingly to Charlesworth.
“You say you feel convinced that Sir Charles brought some person in with him last night?” he said. “Is there any proof of that beyond the two used glasses? Because, you see, he might have used both glasses himself.”
“Yes — I thought of that, too,” replied Charlesworth. “But I have some other proof. Here it is!” and he brought out the sheet of blotting paper, and explained how he had found it. “It looks to me,” he went on, “as if Sir Charles had brought some man here in the hope of doing a deal with him about that necklace, and as if he had agreed to give the man an option on it. But — in that case, would he allow the man to carry it away?”
Gilford, frowning over the piece of blotting paper, shook his head.
“I don’t know — I don’t know!” he answered, fretfully. “Sir Charles was very, very careless in some things — extremely careless! Most unbusiness-like, in fact — from my point of view. He was the sort of man who would have and would go his own way. Well — how to find the man?”
“If he’s an honest man, he’ll come forward at once, on hearing of Sir Charles’ death,” said Charlesworth. “But I am going to town now, and I want to make some inquiries about several matters. Just give me a little information, if you please, Mr. Gilford. You say Sir Charles left your office in Lincoln’s Inn Fields yesterday afternoon at five o’clock, with the necklace in his possession? You’re sure of that?”
“Positive — absolutely positive! He had the morocco case in his hip-pocket.”
“Where would he go?” asked Charlesworth. “We know he didn’t come home to dinner.”
“I know where he would go, and what he would do, if he followed his usual habits,” replied Gilford. “I say if, mind you! He would walk to his club in Pall Mall — the Royal Automobile. He would probably have a swim there — he might afterwards amuse himself with a game of squash rackets or of billiards. He would dine there and perhaps spend the rest of the evening there. Eventually he would go to the garage where he always kept his car, get it, and drive himself home.”
“Where is that garage?” asked Charlesworth, getting out his note-book.
“Fisher’s, in Stillman’s Mews, Haymarket,” replied Gilford. “He always put up his car there — had done so for years.”
“I’ll make some inquiries at the club and at the garage,” said Charlesworth. “Just a word, Mr. Gilford. You heard what we told you as regards the charge that Lady Stanmore brought against Sir Charles and Miss Fawdale? Can you say anything about that?”
But Gilford’s face became impassive. He shook his head, determinedly.
“Nothing, sir!” he answered firmly. “I know nothing of my late partner’s private life — nothing! Nor do I want to — unless I am compelled!”
Charlesworth went out to the powerful car in which he had come down from London. Harding came up to him in the hall.
“You’ll be passing the police-station,” he said. “You can give me a lift as far as that — it’s at the further end of the village. This is a strange case!” he went on as the car moved off down the drive. “I don’t know what to make of it! Do you?”
“Not yet!” replied Charlesworth. “But we’re only beginning. There’s one thing that rather puzzles me that you could perhaps clear up, Superintendent. If Sir Charles brought some man home with him last night, it was in all probability from London. Now, how did that man get away from the Manor? Sir Charles didn’t drive him back, I fancy. Yet, he must have gone back since he wasn’t in the house this morning.”
“He could get away from this village easy enough,” replied Harding. “There are two stations here — on different lines. And there are late trains from both. He could get trains at half-hour intervals up to 12.30 midnight, and there’s another on one of the lines at 1.15.”
“Make inquiries at both stations, will you?” said Charlesworth. “I shall be back from town during the afternoon, and we’ll go more thoroughly into things. And no doubt by that time the doctors will have something definite to say, and then we shall be able — hullo, who’s this?”
The big car slowed up suddenly, at the lodge gates, where a smaller car, driven by its single occupant, a young man, had just come to a halt, the driver bending over the side to speak to a lady whom Harding and Charlesworth suddenly recognized as Miss Fawdale.
“It’s Sir Guy — the new baronet!” whispered Harding. “I suppose his mother telephoned for him. Good morning, Sir Guy!” he continued, obsequiously, as the young man glanced across at him and nodded. “Sorry you’ve had such bad news, sir — unexpected. . . .”
The new baronet stared, frowningly, from Harding to Charlesworth.
“Mr. Gilford got here yet?” he asked surlily.
“He has, Sir Guy!” replied Harding. “You’ll find him in the study, Sir Guy. And if there’s anything that you want me for, sir, if you’ll ‘phone down to the police-station — —”
Sir Guy Stanmore made no answer: he was plainly in anything but a good temper. He moved his car forward, leaving a clear passage through the lodge gates for Charlesworth’s, and turned again to Miss Fawdale.
“Nice sort of young man!” remarked Charlesworth. “Good manners, eh?”
Harding heaved a deep sigh.
“I wish I’d his luck!” he said. “He’s come into a nice thing, I’ll bet!”
“Yes?” asked Charlesworth. “In addition to the title?”
“I should say so,” replied Harding. “There are no children. And Sir Charles always made a great fuss of this young chap — spoiled child, I should call him! — always had everything he wanted.”
“Well, don’t you spoil him any more!” said Charlesworth, with a sly laugh. “Don’t soft-soap him too much.”
“Got to — in these country parts,” growled Harding. “You don’t know — you town chaps. If you want to be comfortable in these places, keep in with the nobs! That’s my motto, anyhow. Here’s the police-station. Come in when you get back.”
Charlesworth nodded his assent, and went on towards London; an hour later he stood in the waiting-room of Dr. James Beck’s house in Wimpole Street. Dr. Beck, after the fashion of medical men, visited in their own domains, kept him waiting longer than Charlesworth liked or approved of. But at last he came, Charlesworth’s professional card in his hand, and looked wonderingly from it to Charlesworth. And Charlesworth saw at one glance that Dr. James Beck neither knew what he had come about, nor that Lady Stanmore’s husband was dead.
CHAPTER VI. FROM NINE TILL ELEVEN
WHILE DR. BECK gazed inquiringly at him, Charlesworth looked narrowly at Dr. Beck. He prided himself on being a pretty good judge of character and what he saw in Beck’s face made him resolve on a policy of candour. Beck, he felt sure, was the sort of man to whom you could speak straight out.
“You’re wondering what I’m here for, doctor?” he began. “Not as a patient, sir! — I’m here on the sort of business indicated by my card. I’ll go straight to the point, if you please. You are, I believe, related to Lady Stanmore, of Aldersyke Manor?”
Dr. Beck showed his surprise.
“Yes,” he replied. “I am Lady Stanmore’s cousin.”
“Have you had any news from Aldersyke Manor this morning?” asked Charlesworth.
“News? No! What — —”
“Sir Charles Stanmore is dead, Dr. Beck. He was found dead in bed early this morning.”
Charlesworth watched Dr. Beck with renewed keenness as he made this announcement. But he saw no more surprise or astonishment than one would expect to see from anybody under such circumstances.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Dr. Beck. “That is very sudden! As far as I am aware — and I saw Lady Stanmore only yesterday — Sir Charles was in his usual good health — —” He broke off at that, glancing again at Charlesworth’s card: “You are, I see, from the Criminal Investigation Department,” he continued. “Is there some suspicious circumstance — —”
“I’ll be perfectly plain with you, doctor,” said Charlesworth. “As I’ve just said, Sir Charles was found dead in bed this morning. Dr. Holmes, of Aldersyke, was called at once. He formed the opinion that Sir Charles had been poisoned — and that the poison was not self-administered. So the local police notified our people and I was sent down immediately. I’ve just come from the Manor — on purpose to see you.”
“Why me?” asked Dr. Beck.
“I’ll continue to be perfectly plain,” replied Charlesworth. “After my arrival, the local superintendent of police, Harding, and I made certain inquiries. We had some information placed before us which concerns you. I am going to tell you exactly what that information is: I am also — for I’ve no doubt it will all be made public at the necessary inquest — going to tell you the names of our informants. Mrs. Protheroe, the housekeeper at Aldersyke Manor, and Miss Fawdale, Sir Charles’ secretary, told us that you have been in the habit of meeting your cousin, Lady Stanmore, in the wood known as the Spinney, and that you and she on these occasions have behaved as lovers. Further, Miss Fawdale says that she saw you and Lady Stanmore in the Spinney only yesterday afternoon, and that she saw you give Lady Stanmore a white packet. That,” concluded Charlesworth, “is the whole of the information given to us concerning yourself. I’m acting on my own responsibility in giving it to you, and if you like to say anything — —”
“As regards Lady Stanmore and myself,” interrupted Dr. Beck, “I shall say nothing — that is my private business, and hers. As regards the white packet, that is easily explained. When I saw Lady Stanmore a few days ago, she complained to me of suffering from sleeplessness. Yesterday, before going to see her, I got my dispenser to make up two powders, which I took with me, and gave to my cousin. That is all there is to tell about that. But now tell me, if you please — has all this, this information as you call it, of Mrs. Protheroe’s and Miss Fawdale’s been communicated to Lady Stanmore?”
“It has — we told her precisely what I have just told you, doctor.”
“What did she say about it?”
“At first, she was furiously angry, but almost immediately her attitude changed, and she became — I suppose contemptuous. At any rate, she very speedily took her revenge on the housekeeper and the secretary and also a parlour-maid, Purser!”
“May I ask how?”
“She summoned the butler and ordered him to turn all three out of the house! There and then!”
Dr. Beck became silent. But he continued to look steadily at his visitor.
“Oh!” he said at last. “Well — since we are being so very candid — did Lady Stanmore give any reason for that drastic proceeding?”
“She did in the case of Miss Fawdale,” replied Charlesworth. “As regards the other two, I think Lady Stanmore felt that they’d been spying on her.”
“But — Miss Fawdale?”
“That was certainly different! In the presence of Mrs. John Stanmore, Bedford, the butler, Harding, and myself, Lady Stanmore said that Miss Fawdale was Sir Charles Stanmore’s mistress — had been his mistress before his marriage, and had remained his mistress ever since. Just that!”
“Well,” remarked Dr. Beck, quietly, “from what I have heard from my cousin, I believe that allegation to be a perfectly true and possible one — I don’t think there’s any doubt about it. Sir Charles Stanmore was an unprincipled man of bad moral character, and he treated his young wife abominably! She is well rid of him!”
This was the first remark which Dr. Beck had made that had anything of warmth in it, and Charlesworth shook his head.
“I only hope it mayn’t be said, or hinted at, that she got rid of him, doctor!” he murmured. “This is a queer case, and — —”
“Between ourselves,” interrupted Beck, “she was going to get rid of him in quite a different fashion — through the courts. She was only waiting for a certain amount of evidence.”
“Miss Fawdale?” suggested Charlesworth.
“I had rather not say more,” replied Beck. “She is free now! But — you?”
“What I am after at present is to find the person, whoever it was, man or woman, who accompanied Sir Charles Stanmore home last night,” answered Charlesworth. “Of course, the whole thing is only beginning.”
“Lady Stanmore is at the Manor?” asked Beck. “Very well, I shall take my sister, who lives with me here, and go down there at once. And if there is anything I can do to help you — —”
“Nothing just now, thank you, doctor,” replied Charlesworth. He left the house and walked round the corner towards the nearest cab-rank, muttering to himself. “He’s all right!” he said. “That was the truth about the powders, no doubt. But — what about her ladyship? If Sir Charles was all that Beck says she may have thought a short cut preferable to a long one — and anyhow, she was in that study, alone, when Purser took in the tray last night . . . and Purser left her there!”
Although he had said nothing to Harding about it, Charlesworth, from a very early stage of his inquiries, had experienced a species of perhaps sub-conscious suspicion of Lady Stanmore. He felt sure that Holmes — though Holmes had been careful not to say so, explicitly — was absolutely certain that Sir Charles Stanmore had been poisoned: therefore, somebody had poisoned him. And evidently, from all he had heard and learnt, Lady Stanmore had wished to be free of her husband. Again, Lady Stanmore had certainly had an opportunity, the previous evening, of putting poison in the whisky which she knew her husband would drink on his return home. Charlesworth had known of more than one serious case that had been built up out of far more flimsy materials than these; he saw how he himself could very easily formulate a charge against Lady Stanmore.
But there was the unknown visitor of the previous midnight, and the mystery attaching to his visit — if it was a man. Sir Charles Stanmore’s own movements must be traced first, and to begin the tracing Charlesworth drove down to the Royal Automobile Club in Pall Mall. Knowing that this was one of the most popular clubs in town and that its membership was a heavy one, he anticipated some difficulty in tracing Sir Charles’ doings on the preceding evening. But when he had got hold of an accommodating official he found his task comparatively easy. Sir Charles, as usual, had arrived at the club about 5.30 the previous afternoon. He had been seen in the bar, in the billiard-room, in the smoking-room, in the reading-room at one time or another between that hour and 8.0 o’clock, when he entered the dining-room and sat down to dine at his usual table. All this gave Charlesworth no help: it was not until he had traced Sir Charles’ movements up to 9.0 o’clock that he got some. Then he learned that just after 9.0 a gentleman called at the club and asked for Sir Charles Stanmore. Sir Charles just then happened to be crossing the big hall; the gentleman caught sight of and went after him; for a few minutes they stood talking, then they left the club together. Sir Charles did not return.
