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CHAPTER XX

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dinner was just over at sir george granville’s house, and crewe, on hearing that detective gillett and sergeant westaway had called to see him, took them into the library at his host’s suggestion.

“i have seen grange and his wife, and also mrs. penfield,” said gillett.

“and what did you get from them?” asked crewe.

“a great deal of interesting information—and most of it bearing out your theory, mr. crewe. i must say that this crime has more twists and turns than any i have ever had anything to do with.”

“i formed the impression some time ago that it was a complicated and interesting case,” said crewe.

“and i want to say, mr. crewe, that you have been a great help to us. if it wasn’t for you we shouldn’t have got on the right track so soon, should we, sergeant?”

sergeant westaway, who was not very quick at arriving at conclusions, had discovered that detective gillett was generally ready to call him to official comradeship in the mistakes that had been made, but less disposed to give him an equal share in any success achieved. he nodded in silent acquiescence with the admission that they owed something to crewe.

“and whom did you see first?” asked crewe.

“i went to the garage first to learn about the motor-car brett hired,” said gillett. “i had a look at their books, and found that he had the car on friday afternoon. gosford will not only swear by his books, but he remembers quite distinctly that it was on friday that brett had the car. as he told you, the next thing he heard of it was that it was lying in the ditch about six miles away. he says brett, when telephoning, said he was speaking from lewes—but that is probably a lie. as brett was making his escape he would not be likely to say where he was. but i can easily find out from the telephone exchange where the call came from. it was a trunk call, and the only trunk call gosford received that day, so there will be no difficulty in getting it from the records of the exchange. then i went to brett’s lodgings in whitethorn gardens. this woman, mrs. penfield, tried to bluff me—she said she was certain that brett had left on thursday, and that gosford was mistaken in thinking brett had the car on friday. but, when i threatened to arrest her for being an accessory, she broke down and admitted that brett left her place after lunch on friday to drive to cliff farm, and that she has not seen or heard of him since.”

“not seen or heard of him?” echoed crewe meditatively.

“by this time i felt that i was getting on,” continued detective gillett.

sergeant westaway nodded to himself in sour depression at the deliberate exclusion of himself from the story of progress.

“i next called at grange’s shop. westaway showed me the place.”

“ah!” exclaimed the sergeant, as if he were in pain.

“i explained to grange who i was, and he nearly fell through the floor with fright. i saw there would not be much difficulty in dealing with him. but the ugly little dwarf upstairs was a different proposition. she protested that she and her husband knew nothing about cliff farm, or what had happened there. even when i produced the hat you gave me she would not give in. but when i produced the comb—it is exactly similar to the one she was wearing—it made an impression, and then when i followed that up with a threat to arrest them both——”

“ah!” interrupted crewe with a smile, “that is where you scotland yard men have the advantage. and i must say that you don’t neglect to use it on every occasion. if i could only threaten people with arrest i should be able to surmount many of the difficulties which confront me from time to time.”

“it is a good card,” admitted detective gillett, with the pride of a man who holds a strong hand which he has dealt himself. “it enabled me to get their story out of them, and a most interesting story it is.”

“i thought it would be,” said crewe.

“the body was brought to the farm by brett. grange and his wife were in the house when he carried it upstairs.”

“but did brett know they were there?” asked crewe.

“he did not; he never suspected there was anybody in the house. they hid on the top floor.”

“and they were there when miss maynard came after brett had gone,” said crewe, pursuing a train of thought. “they were there when marsland and she went up to the first floor and discovered the body. it was grange who knocked over the picture at the top of the staircase, and caused the noise which alarmed marsland and miss maynard.”

“right,” said gillett. “you seem to know the whole story; it is not worth while for me to go over it.”

“oh, yes it is. if you got the whole truth out of that little dwarf and her husband, you will be able to fill in for me some blanks in my reconstruction of the crime.”

detective gillett was mollified by the assurance that he had in his possession some information which was new to crewe, and he resumed his story with interest:

“what do you think took the granges over to the farm? it was to hold a séance there with the object of finding where old grandfather lumsden had hidden his money. young lumsden had heard from murchison something about the dwarf’s psychic powers, and in company with brett he went to see her. first of all they produced the cryptogram old lumsden had left behind, and asked grange if he knew anything about cryptograms or could get them a book on how to solve them. grange couldn’t help them there, and from that the conversation turned to spiritualism, and one of them—probably brett—suggested that mrs. grange should try to solve the cryptogram by getting into communication with the spirit of old lumsden and asking him where he had hidden the money. a splendid idea, don’t you think, mr. crewe?”

“excellent!”

“there is nothing in this spiritualistic business,” said sergeant westaway, with official certainty. “no good ever comes of those who dabble in it—i’ve seen cases of the kind at ashlingsea. we had a sort of medium there once, but i managed to clear her out, after a lot of trouble.”

“once spiritualism gets into good working order there will be no work for police or detectives, sergeant,” said crewe. “the mediums will save all the trouble of collecting evidence.”

“i don’t believe in it at all; it is nothing but fraud and deception,” returned sergeant westaway.

“here is the cryptogram,” said detective gillett.

he held out to crewe a sheet of paper which he took from his pocket-book.

“a curious document!” said crewe, examining it intently.

“i got it from the dwarf woman,” said gillett. “she had it hidden away in her sitting-room.”

“i suppose she didn’t want to part with it?”

“she did not. but when i threatened to arrest——”

“well, i can honestly congratulate you on getting it,” said crewe. “i have been very anxious to see it. this is the cryptogram that marsland found on the stairs, and subsequently disappeared from the house. mrs. grange secured it before she left the house, after the departure of marsland and miss maynard.”

“that is what i thought, but the dwarf says, ‘no.’ she says that this is the original cryptogram, and that she got it from young lumsden in order to study it before holding a séance. lumsden would not part with it until he had made a copy, in case anything happened to the original. mrs. grange took the original with her over to cliff farm, but it has never been out of her possession since lumsden gave it to her. she did not see the copy lumsden made; she did not see it at the house, and does not know what became of it. however, the copy is of no consequence.”

“oh, isn’t it?” said crewe. “i would like to know where it went. the cryptogram can be solved just as well from the copy as the original.”

“it probably got blown away and destroyed,” said detective gillett. “there was a high wind that night.”

“you might leave this with me for a day or two,” said crewe, looking at the cryptogram earnestly. “i take an interest in cryptograms.”

“you must take great care of it,” detective gillett replied. “i shall want to produce it as evidence at the trial.”

“when you get brett?”

“yes. and now let us get back to my story. it was arranged that a séance should be held at the farm on friday, october 16th.”

“who was to be there?” asked crewe.

“grange and his wife, lumsden, brett and miss maynard. this young lady has been playing a deep game, as you suggested. i will settle with her to-morrow.”

“and this man, tom jauncey, who was shot in the arm, wasn’t he one of the party?”

“no.”

“i thought he might be there to represent the unpaid legatees,” said crewe.

“i have no doubt that he knew about the séance—that he had heard brett and miss maynard talking about it. brett was in the habit of visiting the young lady at her home. no doubt jauncey went out to the farm in order to learn what happened, and see if the money was found.”

“that is much more likely than that he went there to dig in the garden.”

“let me reconstruct the crime for you, mr. crewe. i have got all the threads,” said detective gillett eagerly. “the séance was to take place at 6 p. m. on friday. the dwarf and her husband went over to the place in the afternoon in the motor-boat belonging to old pedro. they climbed the cliff, and on reaching the farm found that there was no one about, but that the front door was not locked. lumsden had gone for a walk along the staveley road to meet brett, who was to motor over, and he had left the door unlocked, so that, if any of his guests arrived during his absence, they could enter the house and make themselves at home. he was not afraid of thieves going there, for very few people travel along that road on foot. that was the arrangement he had made with the granges.

“they entered the house, and had a look round the old place. no doubt it occurred to them that if they were thoroughly acquainted with the rooms, and all the nooks and crannies, they would be able to give a more impressive séance. and perhaps they had an idea that in searching round they might find the money without the assistance of the former owner’s spirit, in which case, i have no doubt, they would have helped themselves. they had reached the house about 5 o’clock, and they had not been there half an hour before the storm began to burst, and it got dark.

“it was probably the noise of the rising wind which prevented them hearing brett’s motor-car, and the first intimation they had that any one had arrived was hearing the front door open. they had closed it when they entered the house, their object being to examine the rooms undisturbed. brett, thinking there was no one in the house, opened the door with lumsden’s key. the granges who were on the top floor did not call out to him, as they had no satisfactory explanation to offer for exploring the house. they saw brett staggering up the stairs carrying something on his left shoulder. at first they could not make out what it was, as it was dark inside the house. half-way up the stairs brett came to a halt to shift his burden, and he turned on an electric torch in order to see where he was. by the light of the torch the granges saw that brett was carrying the body of a man. they thought at first that lumsden had been injured in an accident to the motor-car, but the fact that they heard no voices subsequently—that brett did not speak aloud—convinces me that you were right, and that lumsden was dead.

“brett entered the room on the left of the stairs on the first floor, and was there some minutes—probably getting lumsden’s pocket-book, and disarranging the papers it contained in the way we saw. then he went downstairs, and a few moments later the little dwarf, who was leaning over the staircase, saw him moving about below, with the torch in one hand and a bucket in the other. he began washing away the stains of blood in the hall, and on the staircase. he came up the stairs one by one with his bucket and torch, searching for blood-stains, and swabbing them with the cloth whenever he found them. after cleaning the stairs and landing in this way, he went downstairs with the bucket. a minute later he came back to the room which he had first entered, and immediately afterwards they heard a shot. this was the shot fired through the window. no doubt the bullet hit the cherry-tree, and then struck jauncey in the arm. it seems a strange thing that jauncey knew nothing about the motor-car at the gate. but of course it had no lights, and jauncey, intent on spying, did not go up to the front gate to enter the garden. he must have got through the hedge lower down, and made his way across the home field. i must see him about this and ask him.

“after firing the shot brett went downstairs again, and the granges saw no more of him,” continued detective gillett. “no doubt brett found lumsden’s boots in the kitchen, as you said, and after putting them on forced the window downstairs and climbed out. he got into his car and drove off without lights, being very thankful to get away without any one seeing him—as he thought.

“the granges did not know he had gone, and while they were quaking upstairs, wondering what to do, the front door was opened again and there was a light step in the hall. this was miss maynard. she had found the key in the lock which brett had left there. by this time the storm had reached the farm. there was a high wind with heavy drops of rain. miss maynard, unconscious that there was a dead man upstairs, and grange and his wife on the floor above, lighted the candle on the hallstand, and then took it into the sitting-room, where brett had got out of the house. she sat down to wait for the appearance of brett and lumsden. no doubt the fact that she had found the key in the door convinced her that they were in the outbuildings. according to the granges’ story, miss maynard arrived less than ten minutes after brett’s final trip downstairs, and about a quarter of an hour after her arrival there came a knock at the front door. this was captain marsland.

“the rest of the story we know, from captain marsland’s statement to westaway, the only thing that is wrong with it being his omission of all mention of miss maynard. grange, bending over the stairs to watch, knocked down the picture that made such a crash. when captain marsland and miss maynard found the body, she knew immediately that brett must have had something to do with the tragedy, and therefore she asked captain marsland to say nothing about her presence there. if he had done so she would have had to give us an account of her movements, and the object of her visit there, and all this would have directed suspicion to brett.

“not till half an hour after grange and his wife heard the door close, when captain marsland and miss maynard departed, did they venture downstairs. they looked in at the room in which the body had been taken, and by the light of matches they saw the dead man in the chair. they got away from the house as fast as they could. they found the path down the cliff, and while grange was helping his wife down it his hat blew off. he thought nothing of this at the time. in the old boat-house at the foot of the cliff they found pedro, who had been sheltering there from the storm. they waited in the boat-house until the storm abated, and about nine o’clock they pushed off in the boat for staveley, which they were unable to reach until nearly midnight, owing to the rough sea running.

“they decided to say nothing about what they knew, their intention being to keep out of the whole affair. they were afraid that they would be worried a great deal by the police if they said anything, and they were still more afraid that the fact that they had been connected with a murder would ruin their business. in the morning old pedro was sent over to the landing-place to find the hat grange had lost.”

“a very interesting story,” said crewe.

“it is,” said gillett with pride in his success as a narrator. “and it won’t lose much in dramatic interest when it is unfolded in evidence at the trial. in fact, i think it will gain in interest. what a shock it will be to brett when he finds that he was seen carrying the body of lumsden upstairs!”

“you are convinced that brett was the murderer?” asked crewe.

“absolutely certain. aren’t you?”

“no.”

detective gillett stared in surprise at the inscrutable face of the man whose powers of deduction he had learned to look on with admiring awe. sergeant westaway, whose legs had become cramped owing to his uncomfortable attitude in a low chair, shifted his position uneasily, and also looked intently at crewe.

“then whom do you suspect?” exclaimed gillett in astonishment.

“suspect?” said crewe with a slight note of protest in his voice. “i suspect no one. suspicions in regard to this, that and the other merely cloud the view. let us look at the facts and see what they prove.”

“i don’t think you want better proof of murder than that the man who was seen carrying the body of the murdered man subsequently disappears, in order to escape being questioned by the police.”

“it looks what you call suspicious,” said crewe, “but it is not proof. you assume that brett is the murderer, but you do not know any of the circumstances under which the crime was committed.”

“lumsden was walking along the road to meet brett. they did meet, and in discussing this séance they quarrelled about the division of the money.”

“but why quarrel about dividing the money before the money was found? they already had had some disappointments about finding the money.”

“they may have quarrelled about something else. but why did brett disappear, and why did he take the body to the farm and endeavour to manufacture misleading clues?”

“i admit that his conduct is suspicious—that it is difficult to account for. but if he is guilty—if he shot lumsden on the road or when they were driving along the road—why did he take the body to the farm where it was sure to be discovered, as he knew the granges were to get there by 6 p. m.? wouldn’t it have been better for him to hide the body in a field or a ditch? that would have given him more time to escape.”

“he took the body to the farm for the purpose of making us believe that the murder was committed there,” rejoined gillett slowly and positively.

“and then disappeared in order to direct the police suspicions to himself,” said crewe.

“no doubt he was inconsistent,” gillett admitted. “but a murderer manufacturing false clues would scarcely be in the frame of mind to think out everything beforehand. the object of leaving false clues was to get sufficient time to escape. surely, mr. crewe, you are not going to say that you believe brett had nothing to do with the murder—that he is an innocent man?”

“i believe that he knows more about the crime than you or i, and that he disappeared in order to escape being placed in a position in which he would have to tell most of what he knows.”

“and another person who knows a great deal about the crime is miss maynard,” said gillett.

“yes. i think you have some awkward questions to ask her.”

“i have,” replied the scotland yard representative emphatically.

“you might ask her where she got marsland’s eyeglasses that she dropped down the well. the boots and revolver she got from brett—or perhaps brett dropped them there himself on the night of the murder. but the eyeglasses are a different thing.”

“she may have picked them up in the house, or along the garden path. i understand that captain marsland lost a pair of glasses that night.”

“he did, but not the pair that were found in the well. the pair that he lost that night he has not found, but the pair you found in the well were in his possession for nearly a week after the murder. he is quite sure on that point, but does not know where he lost them.”

“of course, he knows that it was miss maynard who tried to direct our suspicions to him?” asked gillett.

“i told him very little, and what i did tell him was for the purpose of satisfying him on a few minor points. that was implied in my promise to you. but he asked about her before i had mentioned her name. he asked if you had seen her.”

“and i suppose he was very indignant with her?”

“no. he took it all very calmly. his calmness, his indifference, struck me as remarkable in one who has suffered from nervous shock.”

“i would like to apologize to him if he is anywhere about—if it is not too much trouble to send for him.”

“not at all,” said crewe. he touched the bell, and when the parlour maid appeared, he sent her in search of captain marsland.

the young man entered the room a few minutes later in evening dress, and nodded cheerfully to the two police officials. he listened with a forgiving smile to detective gillett’s halting apology for having believed that he had endeavoured to mislead the police in the statement made to sergeant westaway on the night of the murder.

“miss maynard will find that she has over-reached herself,” said gillett to the young man in conclusion. “i will look her up in the morning and frighten the truth out of her. she knows more about the crime than any one—except brett. as far as i can see she will be lucky if she escapes arrest as an accomplice.”

“have you ever considered, gillett, the possibility of her having been the principal?” asked crewe.

“no,” said the detective, who obviously was surprised at the suggestion. “do you think that she fired the shot; that she and brett are both in it?”

“she fits into the tragedy in a remarkable way—she fits into the story told by the granges.”

“yes,” said the detective doubtfully. “she does.”

“let us attempt to reconstruct the crime with her as the person who fired the shot,” continued crewe. “mrs. grange was to hold a séance at the farmhouse about 6 p. m. lumsden, brett and this girl were to be present. lumsden walked along the road to staveley in the expectation of meeting brett, who was to drive over in a motor-car. miss maynard, who was a good walker, set out from ashlingsea. she left early in the afternoon, in the expectation that brett would be at the farmhouse early. she found no one there and then set out along the staveley road to meet brett. he was late in starting from staveley, and she met lumsden, who, perhaps, was returning along the road. they decided to sit down for a little while and wait for brett. lumsden, who was in love with her, was overcome by passion, and seized her in his arms. there was a struggle in which the revolver that lumsden carried fell out of his belt. she picked it up and in desperation shot him. a few minutes later brett arrived in his car. he was horrified at what had occurred but his first thought was to save the girl he loved from the consequences of her act. he lifted the body of lumsden into the car, and with miss maynard beside him on the front seat, drove to the farmhouse. she waited in the car while he carried the body into the house, and took steps for giving the impression that lumsden was shot by some one who broke into the house. then he went back to the car, and after giving the girl his final directions bade her a tender farewell. she entered the house and waited in accordance with the plan brett had thought out. she expected the granges to arrive at any moment; she did not know they were hiding upstairs. brett’s plan was that she and the granges should discover the body. that would clear her of suspicion of complicity in the tragedy. marsland came to the house, and for miss maynard’s purpose he suited her better than the granges because he took on himself the discovery of the body and, at her request, kept her name out of it to the police. brett disappeared that night, ostensibly on secret service work. his object was to shield his fiancée by directing suspicion to himself.”

“i don’t think brett is capable of such chivalry,” said marsland.

“it is a very ingenious theory, very ingenious, indeed,” said gillett. “i don’t say that it is absolutely correct, mr. crewe, but the reconstruction is very clever. what do you say, westaway?”

“very ingenious—very clever,” said the sergeant. “only it is no good asking me to believe that miss maynard did it; i could never bring myself to believe that she was capable of it. i have known her since she was a little girl. she is the daughter of a highly respected——”

“we know all about that,” said gillett impatiently. “but lots of highly respectable people commit murder, westaway. even among the criminal classes there are no professional murderers. i’ll see this young lady in the morning, mr. crewe, and let you know the result. i think i can promise that i’ll shake the truth out of her.”

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