_ They went out and left them alone, two people who found in this
moment a heaven which is not beyond the reach of humanity, but
which is seldom attained to. Belinda Mary had an eager audience
all to her very self.
"Of course she didn't die," she said scornfully. "Kara was
playing on his fears all the time. He never even harmed her - in
the way Mr. Lexman feared. He told Mrs. Lexman that her husband
was dead just as he told John Lexman his wife was gone. What
happened was that he brought her back to England - "
"Who?" asked T. X., incredulously.
"Grace Lexman," said the girl, with a smile. "You wouldn't think
it possible, but when you realize that he had a yacht of his own
and that he could travel up from whatever landing place he chose
to his house in Cadogan Square by motorcar and that he could take
her straight away into his cellar without disturbing his
household, you'll understand that the only difficulty he had was
in landing her. It was in the lower cellar that I found her."
"You found her in the cellar?" demanded the Chief Commissioner.
The girl nodded.
"I found her and the dog - you heard how Kara terrified her - and
I killed the dog with my own hands," she said a little proudly,
and then shivered. "It was very beastly," she admitted.
"And she's been living with you all this time and you've said
nothing!" asked T. X., incredulously. Belinda Mary nodded.
"And that is why you didn't want me to know where you were
living?" She nodded again.
"You see she was very ill," she said, "and I had to nurse her up,
and of course I knew that it was Lexman who had killed Kara and I
couldn't tell you about Grace Lexman without betraying him. So
when Mr. Lexman decided to tell his story, I thought I'd better
supply the grand de denouement."
The men looked at one another.
"What are you going to do about Lexman?" asked the Chief
Commissioner, "and, by the way, T. X., how does all this fit your
theories!"
"Fairly well," replied T. X. coolly; "obviously the man who
committed the murder was the man introduced into the room as
Gathercole and as obviously it was not Gathercole, although to all
appearance, he had lost his left arm."
"Why obvious?" asked the Chief Commissioner.
"Because," answered T. X. Meredith, "the real Gathercole had lost
his right arm - that was the one error Lexman made."
"H'm," the Chief pulled at his moustache and looked enquiringly
round the room, "we have to make up our minds very quickly about
Lexman," he said. "What do you think, Carlneau?"
The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
"For my part I should not only importune your Home Secretary to
pardon him, but I should recommend him for a pension," he said
flippantly.
"What do you think, Savorsky?"
The Russian smiled a little.
"It is a very impressive story," he said dispassionately; "it
occurs to me that if you intend bringing your M. Lexman to
judgment you are likely to expose some very pretty scandals.
Incidentally," he said, stroking his trim little moustache, "I
might remark that any exposure which drew attention to the lawless
conditions of Albania would not be regarded by my government with
favour."
The Chief Commissioner's eyes twinkled and he nodded.
"That is also my view," said the Chief of the Italian bureau;
"naturally we are greatly interested in all that happens on the
Adriatic littoral. It seems to me that Kara has come to a very
merciful end and I am not inclined to regard a prosecution of Mr.
Lexman with equanimity."
"Well, I guess the political aspect of the case doesn't affect us
very much," said O'Grady, "but as one who was once mighty near
asphyxiated by stirring up the wrong kind of mud, I should leave
the matter where it is."
The Chief Commissioner was deep in thought and Belinda Mary eyed
him anxiously.
"Tell them to come in," he said bluntly.
The girl went and brought John Lexman and his wife, and they came
in hand in hand supremely and serenely happy whatever the future
might hold for them. The Chief Commissioner cleared his throat.
"Lexman, we're all very much obliged to you," he said, "for a very
interesting story and a most interesting theory. What you have
done, as I understand the matter," he proceeded deliberately, "is
to put yourself in the murderer's place and advance a theory not
only as to how the murder was actually committed, but as to the
motive for that murder. It is, I might say, a remarkable piece of
reconstruction," he spoke very deliberately, and swept away John
Lexman's astonished interruption with a stern hand, "please wait
and do not speak until I am out of hearing," he growled. "You
have got into the skin of the actual assassin and have spoken most
convincingly. One might almost think that the man who killed
Remington Kara was actually standing before us. For that piece of
impersonation we are all very grateful;" he glared round over his
spectacles at his understanding colleagues and they murmured
approvingly.
He looked at his watch.
"Now I am afraid I must be off," he crossed the room and put out
his hand to John Lexman. "I wish you good luck," he said, and
took both Grace Lexman's hands in his. "One of these days," he
said paternally, "I shall come down to Beston Tracey and your
husband shall tell me another and a happier story."
He paused at the door as he was going out and looking back caught
the grateful eyes of Lexman.
"By the way, Mr. Lexman," he said hesitatingly, "I don't think I
should ever write a story called 'The Clue of the Twisted Candle,'
if I were you."
John Lexman shook his head.
"It will never be written," he said, " - by me."
THE END.
Clue of the Twisted Candle, by Edgar Wallace _