_ In the early hours of the morning a tragic little party was
assembled in the study at Beston Priory. John Lexman, white and
haggard, sat on the sofa with his wife by his side. Immediate
authority as represented by a village constable was on duty in the
passage outside, whilst T. X. sitting at the table with a writing
pad and a pencil was briefly noting the evidence.
The author had sketched the events of the day. He had described
his interview with the money-lender the day before and the arrival
of the letter.
"You have the letter!" asked T. X.
John Lexman nodded.
"I am glad of that," said the other with a sigh of relief, "that
will save you from a great deal of unpleasantness, my poor old
chap. Tell me what happened afterward."
"I reached the village," said John Lexman, "and passed through it.
There was nobody about, the rain was still falling very heavily
and indeed I didn't meet a single soul all the evening. I reached
the place appointed about five minutes before time. It was the
corner of Eastbourne Road on the station side and there I found
Vassalaro waiting. I was rather ashamed of myself at meeting him
at all under these conditions, but I was very keen on his not
coming to the house for I was afraid it would upset Grace. What
made it all the more ridiculous was this infernal pistol which was
in my pocket banging against my side with every step I took as
though to nudge me to an understanding of my folly."
"Where did you meet Vassalaro?" asked T. X.
"He was on the other side of the Eastbourne Road and crossed the
road to meet me. At first he was very pleasant though a little
agitated but afterward he began to behave in a most extraordinary
manner as though he was lashing himself up into a fury which he
didn't feel. I promised him a substantial amount on account, but
he grew worse and worse and then, suddenly, before I realised what
he was doing, he was brandishing a revolver in my face and
uttering the most extraordinary threats. Then it was I remembered
Kara's warning."
"Kara," said T. X. quickly.
"A man I know and who was responsible for introducing me to
Vassalaro. He is immensely wealthy."
"I see," said T. X., "go on."
"I remembered this warning," the other proceeded, "and I thought
it worth while trying it out to see if it had any effect upon the
little man. I pulled the pistol from my pocket and pointed it at
him, but that only seemed to make it - and then I pressed the
trigger . . . .
"To my horror four shots exploded before I could recover
sufficient self-possession to loosen my hold of the butt. He fell
without a word. I dropped the revolver and knelt by his side. I
could tell he was dangerously wounded, and indeed I knew at that
moment that nothing would save him. My pistol had been pointed in
the region of his heart . . . . "
He shuddered, dropping his face in his hands, and the girl by his
side, encircling his shoulder with a protecting arm, murmured
something in his ear. Presently he recovered.
"He wasn't quite dead. I heard him murmur something but I wasn't
able to distinguish what he said. I went straight to the village
and told the constable and had the body removed."
T. X. rose from the table and walked to the door and opened it.
"Come in, constable," he said, and when the man made his
appearance, "I suppose you were very careful in removing this
body, and you took everything which was lying about in the
immediate ate vicinity'?"
"Yes, sir," replied the man, "I took his hat and his walkingstick,
if that's what you mean."
"And the revolver!" asked T. X.
The man shook his head.
"There warn't any revolver, sir, except the pistol which Mr.
Lexman had."
He fumbled in his pocket and pulled it out gingerly, and T. X.
took it from him.
"I'll look after your prisoner; you go down to the village, get
any help you can and make a most careful search in the place where
this man was killed and bring me the revolver which you will
discover. You'll probably find it in a ditch by the side of the
road. I'll give a sovereign to the man who finds it."
The constable touched his hat and went out.
"It looks rather a weird case to me," said T. X., as he came back
to the table, "can't you see the unusual features yourself,
Lexman! It isn't unusual for you to owe money and it isn't
unusual for the usurer to demand the return of that money, but in
this case he is asking for it before it was due, and further than
that he was demanding it with threats. It is not the practice of
the average money lender to go after his clients with a loaded
revolver. Another peculiar thing is that if he wished to
blackmail you, that is to say, bring you into contempt in the eyes
of your friends, why did he choose to meet you in a dark and
unfrequented road, and not in your house where the moral pressure
would be greatest? Also, why did he write you a threatening
letter which would certainly bring him into the grip of the law
and would have saved you a great deal of unpleasantness if he had
decided upon taking action!"
He tapped his white teeth with the end of his pencil and then
suddenly,
"I think I'll see that letter," he said.
John Lexman rose from the sofa, crossed to the safe, unlocked it
and was unlocking the steel drawer in which he had placed the
incriminating document. His hand was on the key when T. X.
noticed the look of surprise on his face.
"What is it!" asked the detective suddenly.
"This drawer feels very hot," said John, - he looked round as
though to measure the distance between the safe and the fire.
T. X. laid his hand upon the front of the drawer. It was indeed
warm.
"Open it," said T. X., and Lexman turned the key and pulled the
drawer open.
As he did so, the whole contents burst up in a quick blaze of
flame. It died down immediately and left only a little coil of
smoke that flowed from the safe into the room.
"Don't touch anything inside," said T. X. quickly.
He lifted the drawer carefully and placed it under the light. In
the bottom was no more than a few crumpled white ashes and a
blister of paint where the flame had caught the side.
"I see," said T. X. slowly.
He saw something more than that handful of ashes, he saw the
deadly peril in which his friend was standing. Here was one half
of the evidence in Lexman's favour gone, irredeemably.
"The letter was written on a paper which was specially prepared by
a chemical process which disintegrated the moment the paper was
exposed to the air. Probably if you delayed putting the letter in
the drawer another five minutes, you would have seen it burn
before your eyes. As it was, it was smouldering before you had
turned the key of the box. The envelope!"
"Kara burnt it," said Lexman in a low voice, "I remember seeing
him take it up from the table and throw it in the fire."
T. X. nodded.
"There remains the other half of the evidence," he said grimly,
and when an hour later, the village constable returned to report
that in spite of his most careful search he had failed to discover
the dead man's revolver, his anticipations were realized.
The next morning John Lexman was lodged in Lewes gaol on a charge
of wilful murder.
A telegram brought Mansus from London to Beston Tracey, and T. X.
received him in the library.
"I sent for you, Mansus, because I suffer from the illusion that
you have more brains than most of the people in my department, and
that's not saying much."
"I am very grateful to you, sir, for putting me right with
Commissioner," began Mansus, but T. X. stopped him.
"It is the duty of every head of departments," he said oracularly,
"to shield the incompetence of his subordinates. It is only by
the adoption of some such method that the decencies of the public
life can be observed. Now get down to this." He gave a sketch of
the case from start to finish in as brief a space of time as
possible.
"The evidence against Mr. Lexman is very heavy," he said. "He
borrowed money from this man, and on the man's body were found
particulars of the very Promissory Note which Lexman signed. Why
he should have brought it with him, I cannot say. Anyhow I doubt
very much whether Mr. Lexman will get a jury to accept his
version. Our only chance is to find the Greek's revolver - I
don't think there's any very great chance, but if we are to be
successful we must make a search at once."
Before he went out he had an interview with Grace. The dark
shadows under her eyes told of a sleepless night. She was
unusually pale and surprisingly calm.
"I think there are one or two things I ought to tell you," she
said, as she led the way into the drawing room, closing the door
behind him.
"And they concern Mr. Kara, I think," said T. X.
She looked at him startled.
"How did you know that?"
"I know nothing."
He hesitated on the brink of a flippant claim of omniscience, but
realizing in time the agony she must be suffering he checked his
natural desire.
"I really know nothing," he continued, "but I guess a lot," and
that was as near to the truth as you might expect T. X. to reach
on the spur of the moment.
She began without preliminary.
"In the first place I must tell you that Mr. Kara once asked me to
marry him, and for reasons which I will give you, I am dreadfully
afraid of him."
She described without reserve the meeting at Salonika and Kara's
extravagant rage and told of the attempt which had been made upon
her.
"Does John know this?" asked T. X.
She shook her head sadly.
"I wish I had told him now," she said. "Oh, how I wish I had!"
She wrung her hands in an ecstasy of sorrow and remorse.
T. X. looked at her sympathetically. Then he asked,
"Did Mr. Kara ever discuss your husband's financial position with
you!"
"Never."
"How did John Lexman happen to meet Vassalaro!"
"I can tell you that," she answered, "the first time we met Mr.
Kara in England was when we were staying at Babbacombe on a summer
holiday - which was really a prolongation of our honeymoon. Mr.
Kara came to stay at the same hotel. I think Mr. Vassalaro must
have been there before; at any rate they knew one another and
after Kara's introduction to my husband the rest was easy.
"Can I do anything for John!" she asked piteously.
T. X. shook his head.
"So far as your story is concerned, I don't think you will
advantage him by telling it," he said. "There is nothing whatever
to connect Kara with this business and you would only give your
husband a great deal of pain. I'll do the best I can."
He held out his hand and she grasped it and somehow at that moment
there came to T. X. Meredith a new courage, a new faith and a
greater determination than ever to solve this troublesome mystery.
He found Mansus waiting for him in a car outside and in a few
minutes they were at the scene of the tragedy. A curious little
knot of spectators had gathered, looking with morbid interest at
the place where the body had been found. There was a local
policeman on duty and to him was deputed the ungracious task of
warning his fellow villagers to keep their distance. The ground
had already been searched very carefully. The two roads crossed
almost at right angles and at the corner of the cross thus formed,
the hedges were broken, admitting to a field which had evidently
been used as a pasture by an adjoining dairy farm. Some rough
attempt had been made to close the gap with barbed wire, but it
was possible to step over the drooping strands with little or no
difficulty. It was to this gap that T. X. devoted his principal
attention. All the fields had been carefully examined without
result, the four drains which were merely the connecting pipes
between ditches at the sides of the crossroads had been swept out
and only the broken hedge and its tangle of bushes behind offered
any prospect of the new search being rewarded.
"Hullo!" said Mansus, suddenly, and stooping down he picked up
something from the ground.
T. X. took it in his hand.
It was unmistakably a revolver cartridge. He marked the spot
where it had been found by jamming his walking stick into the
ground and continued his search, but without success.
"I am afraid we shall find nothing more here," said T. X., after
half an hour's further search. He stood with his chin in his
hand, a frown on his face.
"Mansus," he said, "suppose there were three people here, Lexman,
the money lender and a third witness. And suppose this third
person for some reason unknown was interested in what took place
between the two men and he wanted to watch unobserved. Isn't it
likely that if he, as I think, instigated the meeting, he would
have chosen this place because this particular hedge gave him a
chance of seeing without being seen?"
Mansus thought.
"He could have seen just as well from either of the other hedges,
with less chance of detection," he said, after a long pause.
T. X. grinned.
"You have the makings of a brain," he said admiringly. "I agree
with you. Always remember that, Mansus. That there was one
occasion in your life when T. X. Meredith and you thought alike."
Mansus smiled a little feebly.
"Of course from the point of view of the observer this was the
worst place possible, so whoever came here, if they did come here,
dropping revolver bullets about, must have chosen the spot because
it was get-at-able from another direction. Obviously he couldn't
come down the road and climb in without attracting the attention
of the Greek who was waiting for Mr. Lexman. We may suppose there
is a gate farther along the road, we may suppose that he entered
that gate, came along the field by the side of the hedge and that
somewhere between here and the gate, he threw away his cigar."
"His cigar!" said Mansus in surprise.
"His cigar," repeated T. X., "if he was alone, he would keep his
cigar alight until the very last moment."
"He might have thrown it into the road," said Mansus.
"Don't jibber," said T. X., and led the way along the hedge. From
where they stood they could see the gate which led on to the road
about a hundred yards further on. Within a dozen yards of that
gate, T. X. found what he had been searching for, a half-smoked
cigar. It was sodden with rain and he picked it up tenderly.
"A good cigar, if I am any judge," he said, "cut with a penknife,
and smoked through a holder."
They reached the gate and passed through. Here they were on the
road again and this they followed until they reached another cross
road that to the left inclining southward to the new Eastbourne
Road and that to the westward looking back to the Lewes-Eastbourne
railway. The rain had obliterated much that T. X. was looking
for, but presently he found a faint indication of a car wheel.
"This is where she turned and backed," he said, and walked slowly
to the road on the left, "and this is where she stood. There is
the grease from her engine."
He stooped down and moved forward in the attitude of a Russian
dancer, "And here are the wax matches which the chauffeur struck,"
he counted, "one, two, three, four, five, six, allow three for
each cigarette on a boisterous night like last night, that makes
three cigarettes. Here is a cigarette end, Mansus, Gold Flake
brand," he said, as he examined it carefully, "and a Gold Flake
brand smokes for twelve minutes in normal weather, but about eight
minutes in gusty weather. A car was here for about twenty-four
minutes - what do you think of that, Mansus?"
"A good bit of reasoning, T. X.," said the other calmly, "if it
happens to be the car you're looking for."
"I am looking for any old car," said T. X.
He found no other trace of car wheels though he carefully followed
up the little lane until it reached the main road. After that it
was hopeless to search because rain had fallen in the night and in
the early hours of the morning. He drove his assistant to the
railway station in time to catch the train at one o'clock to
London.
"You will go straight to Cadogan Square and arrest the chauffeur
of Mr. Kara," he said.
"Upon what charge!" asked Mansus hurriedly.
When it came to the step which T. X. thought fit to take in the
pursuance of his duty, Mansus was beyond surprise.
"You can charge him with anything you like," said T. X., with fine
carelessness, "probably something will occur to you on your way up
to town. As a matter of fact the chauffeur has been called
unexpectedly away to Greece and has probably left by this
morning's train for the Continent. If that is so, we can do
nothing, because the boat will have left Dover and will have
landed him at Boulogne, but if by any luck you get him, keep him
busy until I get back."
T. X. himself was a busy man that day, and it was not until night
was falling that he again turned to Beston Tracey to find a
telegram waiting for him. He opened it and read,
"Chauffeur's name, Goole. Formerly waiter English Club,
Constantinople. Left for east by early train this morning, his
mother being ill."
"His mother ill," said T. X. contemptuously, "how very feeble, - I
should have thought Kara could have gone one better than that."
He was in John Lexman's study as the door opened and the maid
announced, "Mr. Remington Kara." _