Complete works of peter.., p.432
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 432
Vaness was physically exhausted from his long day's work, but found himself too excited to go to bed. He returned to his armchair and sat working out in detail the story of the Strex murder as it now appeared to him.
He could find no flaw in it. The investigations which he had carried out during the last two days, and the information he had elicited from the sources Sparkes had been able to supply after their conversation, all dovetailed.
A cynical smile curved his lips as he considered how Ralston would take the news, and the smile turned to one of pleasure as he realised what a scoop this story would be for the Daily Sun. Luck had favoured him when Alexia Durward had come to him with her original request, although he had little thought at the time what strange happenings would occur as a result of that interview.
He lit his pipe and, walking up and down the room, mapped out a plan of campaign.
VANESS, standing in front of the fire in his study, pipe hanging out of the corner of his mouth, watched the clock and waited for Soames.
Although of a cool and controlled nature, every nerve in Vaness's body was tingling with excitement. Everything depended on what happened during the next few hours. It was with a sigh of relief that he saw the door open and Soames appear.
"Well, Mr Vaness," said the inspector, putting down his hat, "here I am, and I hope it's something interesting."
"It's interesting enough," said Vaness. "Does Ralston know you're here?"
"You bet he doesn't. I didn't take any chances on telling Ralston until I knew what you'd got to say."
"All right," said Vaness. "Sit down."
He pushed a box of cigars toward the inspector. "Light a cigar," he said, "smoke it, and however much you want to interrupt me, don't do it until I've finished talking. I want you to listen to a little story. Just for the sake of argument we'll call it an imaginary one...
"Ten years ago there was a chief inspector at Scotland Yard. His name was Ralston. Officially he was of the best character. Unofficially he was a gambler and a waster. He needed money badly. He had to have it. Among some of the peculiar friends he had made in the course of his duties was a man named Hugo Strex, partner in a firm of merchant bankers.
"Ralston first came across Strex over a matter which certainly didn't show Strex's character in a very good light, and Ralston realised that here was a man who would make a very good tool. To cut a long story short, these two between them concocted a frame-up, one of the cleverest bits of business that has ever been built.
"Strex, who was in charge of the books of his firm, was to take money out of the business for himself and Ralston. He would cook the books, framing things in such a way that if anything came to light the blame would fall on his partner, Durward. This wasn't difficult.
"After a time the embezzlement was brought to light officially by Strex himself.
"He reported it to Scotland Yard. Was it a coincidence that Chief Inspector Ralston requested that he might be allowed to handle the case? His request was granted, and Detective Sergeant Selks was assigned to help him.
"Well, what chance had Durward got? The original evidence against him had been framed by Strex, and the police officer who was prosecuting the case against him was an accomplice of Strex. John Durward went to prison for ten years, and unfortunately killed himself there.
"Everything had gone as Strex and Ralston planned, but Ralston wasn't finished with the business. Oh, no. He was out to plan a perfect crime. There were three people who knew too much: John Durward, in prison, who was innocent; Hugo Strex, Ralston's accomplice; and Detective Sergeant Selks, who from the first had a suspicion that things weren't right.
"But see how clever Ralston was. During the investigations preceding the Durward trial he had caused anonymous letters to be written to Selks making attempts to bribe him to falsify the evidence. Ralston knew that Selks, being an egoist, would follow up these letters, and endeavour to find the writer. How easy it was for Ralston, after the trial, to accuse Selks of having tried to tamper with evidence, to force Selks to confess that attempts had been made to bribe him, and eventually to get him removed to Pinner!
"Ralston was temporarily satisfied. But there were still two people at large who suspected him, and eventually they had to be put out of the way. So he planned one of the most devilish schemes ever evolved by the brain of man.
"While Ralston was certain Strex didn't want to give him away and Selks—the poor devil who was still following up inquiries in hope of justifying himself—was in no position to give him away, he was quite relaxed ... until a situation turned up which made him realise something final needed to be done.
"The situation was this. I was commissioned by the Daily Sun to write the story of the Durward trial. Ralston knew I would want to interview Strex, and Strex was getting an old man—very old, very feeble. Throughout the years he had been haunted by the thing he had done to his partner. Ralston was afraid Strex might give something away, and he made up his mind to kill him. But first he concocted a wonderful scheme—a scheme by which the murder could be laid on the shoulders of Durward's daughter, Alexia. He wrote her an anonymous letter telling her I was about to write the story of the Durward trial, and she must stop this for the sake of her father. If I refused her request she must then go straight to Strex and ask him not to give the interview.
"In other words, Ralston created a motive for Alexia Durward to kill Strex, and he created a situation by which she would be at Strex's house at the approximate time when he intended to murder the old man."
An exclamation broke from Soames's lips. "My God, Mr Vaness! You don't expect me to believe this, do you?"
"Just a minute," said the journalist, "there's a lot more yet."
"The story of the Strex murder," Vaness continued, "is briefly this: Ralston himself told me he was with Strex on the night of the murder. He told me Strex had telephoned him to say I was coming to interview him and to ask Ralston to go round and see him first. Now it struck me at the time as rather peculiar that Strex, who though an old man was quite capable of walking, should have asked Ralston, a cripple, to go round to him. Don't you see? Ralston had to have an excuse for being at Strex's house.
"Very well then ... Ralston went to see Strex. He told Strex things were getting pretty warm and that probably in future the old man must be careful not to say a word which would give either himself or Ralston away.
"Possibly, had Ralston been satisfied with Strex's attitude, he might still have let the old man live, but one thing made up his mind for him whilst he was talking to Strex. The old man, half senile, was writing some words on the blotting paper before him—the words which you found obliterated by his own blood. Those words were—'Durward was innocent.'
"Now, Soames, you will remember that piece of blotting paper went to the chemical experts at the Yard. Has anybody seen it since? You shake your head. Of course they haven't; it was destroyed by Ralston!
"Once Ralston saw Strex writing he definitely made up his mind that Strex must die. On some pretext or other he got behind the old man and stabbed him. There was no one in the house except the butler, and he was asleep.
"Ralston, knowing the Durward girl would arrive at any moment, ran and opened the front door, leaving it ajar, knowing that she would go straight to Strex's study without ringing the front door bell. He then ran back to the study and hid behind the curtains behind Strex's body. He saw the girl come in, look at the body, turn, and run straight out of the house leaving the door open behind her.
"Here, Ralston made his first mistake. He closed and locked the door. He should have left it open. Within five minutes I appear on the scene, ring the door bell, and let in by the butler go straight to the study where Ralston was still behind the curtains. He'd had no time to get away.
"He awaited his opportunity, which came when I turned my back to him to telephone Scotland Yard. He slipped out of the French windows, which he locked behind him with the key he had taken from Strex's pocket. If you remember, when Strex's body was searched afterwards it was Ralston who found that key, and it was easiest for him to find it because he put it there first."
Soames shook his head.
"All this sounds very wonderful, Mr Vaness, but there's one thing that smashes your case absolutely to pieces—something so obvious you've forgotten it."
"What's that, Soames?" Vaness asked.
"Just this: Ralston's a cripple. He can't move out of that chair of his."
"Can't he?" said Vaness. "How do you know?"
He leaned closer to the inspector. "How does anybody know Ralston's a cripple? This paralysis attacked him five years ago, I understand, just about the time he might have begun to think seriously of removing the people who knew too much about him.
"Well, yesterday I had certain enquiries made. Ralston has never attended any hospital in London; his own doctor has never treated him for paralysis. In other words, one might almost term Ralston's paralysis a very wonderful alibi. He was simply putting himself in a position where no one would suspect him of any murder, especially a murder where a good deal of walking and climbing over a twelve-foot wall was necessary. I think you will find, inspector, that Ralston can walk just as well as you or I."
"But, look here, Mr Vaness," said Soames. "Even allowing that Ralston's paralysis is a fake, how would he keep a thing like that from his wife? She'd know."
"Of course she knows," said Vaness. "Why shouldn't she know? She's in the whole thing with him. I'll stake my life the anonymous letters written to Selks during the Durward trial, and the letters written to Miss Durward during the present business, were written by Mrs Ralston with her left hand. But we shall soon see whether that's so or not."
Soames scratched his head.
"Well, I don't know where I am. It all sounds very feasible, Mr Vaness. But do you expect me to go round and arrest Ralston on the strength of it?"
"Not a bit of it," said Vaness. "We'll try a little bluff. Come with me to Ralston's place. Let me talk to him, and we'll see what happens..."
CHAPTER XI
THE eerie silence of the room in St John's Wood was disturbed only by the ticking of the grandfather clock and the monotone of Vaness's voice. With his eyes on Ralston, Vaness recounted, detail by detail, the case he had built up.
Soames, sitting on the other side of the fireplace, fingered his hat nervously. He watched Ralston as if he expected him with a few words to demolish the ridiculous story to which he was listening.
Vaness finished and rose to his feet. "Well, Ralston," he said, "what about it?"
Ralston smiled rather wearily. "He's right, Soames. I did it. There are just one or two points where he's gone off the rails, but I can put you right on those. Clever devil, Mr Vaness. Too clever, damn you!
"Candidly," Ralston continued, with a ghost of his good-natured smile, "I'm only annoyed about one thing. I plotted this affair; I've spent months scheming it out; I thought I'd evolved the perfect crime. I killed Strex, and Garrington, the man who was Durward's head clerk, had a pretty good idea I had done so. That's why he's cleared off tonight. He's a clever fellow is Garrington, and I'm afraid you won't get him.
"Strex knew too much, and I thought he might talk. Unfortunately, I had to act pretty quickly, because it was not till late in the morning of the murder that I heard Vaness had been commissioned to write the story of the Durward trial. After I heard the news I sent the urchin round to Alexia Durward's flat with the first anonymous letter. I knew she would go to Vaness's room's that night. I know she would go to Strex's house afterwards. I realised everyone would suspect her of the murder, but the most wonderful thing that could possibly happen to me was when Scotland Yard asked me to handle the case. This was the one bright ending of my scheme.
"Here was I, a murderer, asked to catch myself, and like most murderers, I was too cocksure. I talked too much to Vaness, although how he got his original idea I was the criminal I don't know; and I didn't allow for the fact he would get keen on the Durward girl... It just shows you, Soames, you must never trust these journalists too much. They're nasty fellows."
Soames rose to his feet.
"Well, Ralston," he said, "you'd better come along and make a statement. Then I think if I were you I'd shut up."
Ralston put a hand into the pocket of his coat. "I'm not making any statement, Soames," he said. "I've played my hand, and I've lost, but if you think you're going to get me in the dock you're mistaken. So long, Vaness!"
He withdrew his hand from the pocket of his coat, and put it quickly to his mouth. Then a tiny bottle fell on the floor.
Soames muttered a curse.
"Very much the easiest way, this way," gasped Ralston. His head fell forward.
Soames scratched his head.
"What do you know about that? I never suspected he'd kill himself. What are we going to do? We'll have to move him, I suppose."
"I shouldn't worry about that tonight if I were you, Soames," said Vaness. "Better to go and tell Mrs Ralston what's happened. Break it to her quietly, and say you'll take the body away tomorrow. When you've done this, meet me at the public house round the corner—the Three Feathers—in the saloon bar. I've got another surprise for you."
"This is a night of surprises," said Soames. "What's the next one to be?"
"Just this," said Vaness. "Before Ralston killed himself he was too much of a sportsman to give away the other gentleman—Garrington, the man who killed Selks."
"Heavens!" said Soames. "I'd forgotten all about that."
"I hadn't," said Vaness. "I've got a pretty good idea where our missing friend is ... this elusive Garrington. I think we might go along there and complete the haul, don't you, Soames? Anyhow, you and go and talk to Mrs Ralston. Somehow I don't think she'll be too disturbed at the death of her husband. Then meet me around the corner. See you then."
Vaness took his hat, and left the house, leaving Soames to talk to Ralston's wife.
He walked towards the Three Feathers smiling happily and unlike a man who has left the presence of death.
FIFTEEN minutes later Soames appeared. "You were right, Mr Vaness," he said. "Mrs Ralston wasn't very surprised. There's no doubt she knew about the business all along, and probably helped in it. Luckily for her, however, her husband's confession gets her off responsibility for the matter."
"Exactly," said Vaness. "What arrangements have you made about Ralston's body?"
"She's going to have it moved upstairs. There's no reason why she shouldn't. Of course, there will have to be a post-mortem, and the whole bag of tricks will come to light. By Jove, Mr Vaness, you're going to get some kudos out of this!"
Vaness agreed. "Yes, it will be a good result both for me and the Daily Sun, but it will he better still for Miss Durward. If I hadn't I managed to stumble on the truth she could have been convicted for the murder of Strex."
Soames mopped his brow. "You're right. It's been a bad business. Naturally enough, all the way through I've simply followed Ralston's instructions. He had everything in his hands. Now, Mr Vaness, what's the second surprise? I'm prepared for anything tonight."
"The second surprise is we'll get Garrington tonight—in about a couple of hours' time, I should think. He may give us trouble, for he's a tough character is Mr Garrington. I suggest you get a couple of plainclothes men to keep observation on the back of the house in Palmerston Street from half past eight tonight. We'll go to the house at about a quarter to nine, and if I am not very much surprised we shall get Mr Garrington."
The detective finished his drink.
"But why should Garrington go back there?" he asked. "Surely if he suspects we're after him he'll give that place a wide berth."
"He'll give it a wide berth after tonight, but don't you see, he'll think the police have their hands full for a day or two, and that they won't worry a great deal about him at the moment."
Vaness got up and prepared to depart.
"Get your men posted, at eight thirty," he said, "and you meet me at the end of Palmerston Street at twenty minutes to nine. And if I were you I should have an automatic in my pocket. Garrington may try to be funny."
Vaness drove straight back to his flat at Garron Mansions, and telephoned immediately to the cottage at Billericay. Alexia answered him, and he was delighted to tell her that all was well.
"Come up to town at once, my dear," he said. "There's no reason why you should continue to rusticate at Billericay in the middle of winter! I shall be out when you arrive, but you and Mary can amuse yourselves until I come back. I expert to join you here about ten thirty."
He hung up the receiver, thrilled with the relief in her voice, and after telephoning instructions to the hall porter that he was to be called at eight o'clock he lay down on his bed for a well-earned rest.
The absolute success of his theory turned on Garrington returning to the Palmerston Street house, but he was fairly certain he would. In any event, Ralston's confession had cleared Alexia, although he was naturally desirous of completing the case so that the whole thing could be finished and on the front page of the Daily Sun next morning.
Needless to say he was unable to sleep; he lay with closed eyes until the porter rang through to say eight o'clock had arrived.
CHAPTER XII
KEEPING in the dark shadows which bounded the street, Vaness and Soames approached the house.
"Have you got a gun?" asked the police officer.
"Yes," Vaness said. "I'm not taking any chances where Garrington is concerned."
He pushed open the creaking iron gate and ran up the dirty steps to the front door. Close behind him came Soames. The old woman opened the door, Soames gave it a push, and they stepped into the ill-lit hall.
"This gentleman is a police officer, Mrs Strevens," said Vaness, "and he wants to have a few words with Mr Garrington. There's no need for you to announce us, we'll go straight up. Please close the door quietly so he doesn't hear."
