CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MR. ELPHICK'S CHAMBERS
Spargo went round again to the Temple that night at nine o'clock,asking himself over and over again two questions--the first, how muchdoes Elphick know? the second, how much shall I tell him?
The old house in the Temple to which he repaired and in which many ageneration of old fogies had lived since the days of Queen Anne, wasfull of stairs and passages, and as Spargo had forgotten to get theexact number of the set of chambers he wanted, he was obliged to wanderabout in what was a deserted building. So wandering, he suddenly heardsteps, firm, decisive steps coming up a staircase which he himself hadjust climbed. He looked over the banisters down into the hollowbeneath. And there, marching up resolutely, was the figure of a tall,veiled woman, and Spargo suddenly realized, with a sharp quickening ofhis pulses, that for the second time that day he was beneath one roofwith Miss Baylis.
Spargo's mind acted quickly. Knowing what he now knew, from hisextraordinary dealings with Mother Gutch, he had no doubt whatever thatMiss Baylis had come to see Mr. Elphick--come, of course, to tell Mr.Elphick that he, Spargo, had visited her that morning, and that he wason the track of the Maitland secret history. He had never thought of itbefore, for he had been busily engaged since the departure of MotherGutch; but, naturally, Miss Baylis and Mr. Elphick would keep incommunication with each other. At any rate, here she was, and herdestination was, surely, Elphick's chambers. And the question for him,Spargo, was--what to do?
What Spargo did was to remain in absolute silence, motionless, tense,where he was on the stair, and to trust to the chance that the womandid not look up. But Miss Baylis neither looked up nor down: shereached a landing, turned along a corridor with decision, and marchedforward. A moment later Spargo heard a sharp double knock on a door: amoment after that he heard a door heavily shut; he knew then that MissBaylis had sought and gained admittance--somewhere.
To find out precisely where that somewhere was drew Spargo down to thelanding which Miss Baylis had just left. There was no one about--he hadnot, in fact, seen a soul since he entered the building. Accordingly hewent along the corridor into which he had seen Miss Baylis turn. Heknew that all the doors in that house were double ones, and that theouter oak in each was solid and substantial enough to be sound proof.Yet, as men will under such circumstances, he walked softly; he said tohimself, smiling at the thought, that he would be sure to start ifsomebody suddenly opened a door on him. But no hand opened any door,and at last he came to the end of the corridor and found himselfconfronting a small board on which was painted in white letters on ablack ground, Mr. Elphick's Chambers.
Having satisfied himself as to his exact whereabouts, Spargo drew backas quietly as he had come. There was a window half-way along thecorridor from which, he had noticed as he came along, one could catch aglimpse of the Embankment and the Thames; to this he withdrew, andleaning on the sill looked out and considered matters. Should he goand--if he could gain admittance--beard these two conspirators? Shouldhe wait until the woman came out and let her see that he was on thetrack? Should he hide again until she went, and then see Elphick alone?
In the end Spargo did none of these things immediately. He let thingsslide for the moment. He lighted a cigarette and stared at the riverand the brown sails, and the buildings across on the Surrey side. Tenminutes went by--twenty minutes--nothing happened. Then, as half-pastnine struck from all the neighbouring clocks, Spargo flung away asecond cigarette, marched straight down the corridor and knocked boldlyat Mr. Elphick's door.
Greatly to Spargo's surprise, the door was opened before there was anynecessity to knock again. And there, calmly confronting him, abenevolent, yet somewhat deprecating expression on his spectacled andplacid face, stood Mr. Elphick, a smoking cap on his head, a tasseledsmoking jacket over his dress shirt, and a short pipe in his hand.
Spargo was taken aback: Mr. Elphick apparently was not. He held thedoor well open, and motioned the journalist to enter.
"Come in, Mr. Spargo," he said. "I was expecting you. Walk forward intomy sitting-room."
Spargo, much astonished at this reception, passed through an ante-roominto a handsomely furnished apartment full of books and pictures. Inspite of the fact that it was still very little past midsummer therewas a cheery fire in the grate, and on a table set near a roomyarm-chair was set such creature comforts as a spirit-case, a syphon, atumbler, and a novel--from which things Spargo argued that Mr. Elphickhad been taking his ease since his dinner. But in another armchair onthe opposite side of the hearth was the forbidding figure of MissBaylis, blacker, gloomier, more mysterious than ever. She neither spokenor moved when Spargo entered: she did not even look at him. And Spargostood staring at her until Mr. Elphick, having closed his doors,touched him on the elbow, and motioned him courteously to a seat.
"Yes, I was expecting you, Mr. Spargo," he said, as he resumed his ownchair. "I have been expecting you at any time, ever since you took upyour investigation of the Marbury affair, in some of the earlier stagesof which you saw me, you will remember, at the mortuary. But since MissBaylis told me, twenty minutes ago, that you had been to her thismorning I felt sure that it would not be more than a few hours beforeyou would come to me."
"Why, Mr. Elphick, should you suppose that I should come to you atall?" asked Spargo, now in full possession of his wits.
"Because I felt sure that you would leave no stone unturned, no cornerunexplored," replied Mr. Elphick. "The curiosity of the modern pressmanis insatiable."
Spargo stiffened.
"I have no curiosity, Mr. Elphick," he said. "I am charged by my paperto investigate the circumstances of the death of the man who was foundin Middle Temple Lane, and, if possible, to track his murderer,and----"
Mr. Elphick laughed slightly and waved his hand.
"My good young gentleman!" he said. "You exaggerate your ownimportance. I don't approve of modern journalism nor of its methods. Inyour own case you have got hold of some absurd notion that the man JohnMarbury was in reality one John Maitland, once of Market Milcaster, andyou have been trying to frighten Miss Baylis here into----"
Spargo suddenly rose from his chair. There was a certain temper in himwhich, when once roused, led him to straight hitting, and it was rousednow. He looked the old barrister full in the face.
"Mr. Elphick," he said, "you are evidently unaware of all that I know.So I will tell you what I will do. I will go back to my office, and Iwill write down what I do know, and give the true and absolute proofsof what I know, and, if you will trouble yourself to read the_Watchman_ tomorrow morning, then you, too, will know."
"Dear me--dear me!" said Mr. Elphick, banteringly. "We are so used toultra-sensational stories from the _Watchman_ that--but I am a curiousand inquisitive old man, my good young sir, so perhaps you will tell mein a word what it is you do know, eh?"
Spargo reflected for a second. Then he bent forward across the tableand looked the old barrister straight in the face.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I will tell you what I know beyond doubt. Iknow that the man murdered under the name of John Marbury was, withoutdoubt, John Maitland, of Market Milcaster, and that Ronald Breton ishis son, whom you took from that woman!"
If Spargo had desired a complete revenge for the cavalier fashion inwhich Mr. Elphick had treated it he could not have been afforded a moreample one than that offered to him by the old barrister's reception ofthis news. Mr. Elphick's face not only fell, but changed; hisexpression of almost sneering contempt was transformed to one clearlyresembling abject terror; he dropped his pipe, fell back in his chair,recovered himself, gripped the chair's arms, and stared at Spargo as ifthe young man had suddenly announced to him that in another minute hemust be led to instant execution. And Spargo, quick to see hisadvantage, followed it up.
"That is what I know, Mr. Elphick, and if I choose, all the world shallknow it tomorrow morning!" he said firmly. "Ronald Breton is the son ofthe murdered man, and Ronald Breton is engaged to be married to thedaughte
r of the man charged with the murder. Do you hear that? It isnot matter of suspicion, or of idea, or of conjecture, it isfact--fact!"
Mr. Elphick slowly turned his face to Miss Baylis. He gasped out a fewwords.
"You--did--not--tell--me--this!"
Then Spargo, turning to the woman, saw that she, too, was white to thelips and as frightened as the man.
"I--didn't know!" she muttered. "He didn't tell me. He only told methis morning what--what I've told you."
Spargo picked up his hat.
"Good-night, Mr. Elphick," he said.
But before he could reach the door the old barrister had leapt from hischair and seized him with trembling hands. Spargo turned and looked athim. He knew then that for some reason or other he had given Mr.Septimus Elphick a thoroughly bad fright.
"Well?" he growled.
"My dear young gentleman!" implored Mr. Elphick. "Don't go! I'll--I'lldo anything for you if you won't go away to print that. I'll--I'll giveyou a thousand pounds!"
Spargo shook him off.
"That's enough!" he snarled. "Now, I am off! What, you'd try to bribeme?"
Mr. Elphick wrung his hands.
"I didn't mean that--indeed I didn't!" he almost wailed. "I--I don'tknow what I meant. Stay, young gentleman, stay a little, and letus--let us talk. Let me have a word with you--as many words as youplease. I implore you!"
Spargo made a fine pretence of hesitation.
"If I stay," he said, at last, "it will only be on the strict conditionthat you answer--and answer truly--whatever questions I like to askyou. Otherwise----"
He made another move to the door, and again Mr. Elphick laid beseechinghands on him.
"Stay!" he said. "I'll answer anything you like!"
The Middle Temple Murder Page 27