CHAPTER VIII
As they reached the library again a small silver clock on themantelpiece gave a single chime. Merrington looked at it, and thenglanced at his watch.
"Half-past eight!" he said. "That clock is five minutes slow--by me. Thepeople who have been staying here will go off after breakfast. Visitorsalways leave a house of trouble as soon as possible--like rats desertinga sinking ship. The thing is to question as many as we can get hold ofbefore they go. As some of them knew Mrs. Heredith before her marriage,we may elicit something about her or her antecedents which will throwsome light on the motive for the crime."
"I do not think Sir Philip will care to have his guests questioned,"remarked Captain Stanhill doubtfully. "They must be all well-connectedand very respectable people, or they would not have been invited here."
"There have been very respectable and highly connected murderers beforeto-day, Captain Stanhill, as no doubt you are aware," rejoinedMerrington caustically.
"The guests were all downstairs in the dining-room at the time themurder was committed," said Caldew. "Miss Heredith told me so herself."
"I am aware of that fact also," retorted Merrington sharply."Nevertheless, they must be seen. We cannot afford to throw away achance."
"It is a delicate and awkward business," murmured the Chief Constable.
"It will be a delicate and awkward business for us if we don't lay ourhands on this criminal," responded Merrington. "Sir Philip Heredith,with his influence and connections, will be able to make it pretty hotfor Scotland Yard and the County Police if the murderer of his son'swife is allowed to escape. You'd better take the job in hand at once,Caldew. Weyling can go with you and help. See as many of the guests asyou can--especially the ladies--and get what you can out of them. ButI'd be glad if you'd first ask Miss Heredith to grant me an interviewbefore breakfast. Don't send a servant, but see her yourself."
Caldew left the room to undertake the investigations allotted to him,and Weyling followed him with a startled expression of face. He feltoverweighted by the magnitude of the task which had been thrust uponhim, and doubted his ability to discharge it properly.
"Miss Heredith will be able to give us more information than SirPhilip," remarked Merrington in a friendly tone to Captain Stanhill, asthe door closed behind the subordinate officials. "A woman is generallymore observant than a man--particularly if anything underhand has beengoing on."
Captain Stanhill cast a puzzled glance at his companion. As asimple-minded English gentleman he was quite unable to penetrate theobscurity of expression which masked the meaning of the last remark.Merrington caught the look, but had formed too poor an opinion of hiscompanion's understanding to explain himself further. Besides, he likedmystifying people.
"I'm going to put the servants through their facings straight away," hecontinued. "If there is anything to be learnt we are more likely to findit out from them than the guests. Trust the backstairs for knowingwhat's going on upstairs! Servants want skilful handling, though. You'vegot to know when to bully and when to coax. Half measures are no goodwith them."
Captain Stanhill did not reply. He wandered round the spacious library,glancing at the rows of books in their oaken shelves. SuperintendentMerrington, while awaiting the arrival of Miss Heredith, drew forth theplan of the moat-house which Caldew had sketched, and studied itclosely.
The moat-house had only two stories, but it was a rambling old place andcovered a considerable area of ground, facing three sides of the county.The principal portion, consisting of the old house which had been burntdown and rebuilt, faced the north. The two wings had been added later.
The front door opened into a spacious entrance hall which in formertimes had been the dining-room. At the end of the hall was the grandstaircase, adorned by statues, armour, and the Heredith arms carved inpanels. The principal rooms, with the exception of the dining-room, wereall on the ground floor of the main building, but corridors led off theentrance hall to the newer wings at each side, extending on the rightside to the billiard room, conservatory, greenhouses, and orangery, andon the left side to the dining-room, Miss Heredith's privatesitting-room, and Sir Philip's study.
Merrington carefully studied the arrangements of this wing, as depictedon Caldew's sketch plan. The upper portion was reached by a staircasewhich opened off the corridor almost opposite the dining-room door, andran, with one turning, to a landing which was only a few feet away fromthe door of the bedroom in which Mrs. Heredith was murdered. Next tothis room was a dressing-room, and a spare bedroom. The remainder of thewing consisted of two bathrooms, a linen room, and Miss Heredith'sbedroom, which was at the south end of the wing. The rooms all faced thewest side of the house, and were lit by windows opening on the terracedgardens. They were entered by a corridor which ran the whole length ofthe wing, terminating in the door which opened on the unused backstaircase.
Before Merrington had finished his scrutiny of the plan, the dooropened, and Miss Heredith entered the library. She looked pale and worn,and there were dark rings under her eyes which suggested a sleeplessnight. But her face was composed, though grave.
Captain Stanhill advanced and shook hands with her, uttering a few wordsof well-bred sympathy as he did so, and then introduced SuperintendentMerrington.
"Superintendent Merrington has been kind enough to come down fromScotland Yard at my request to give us the benefit of his skill ininvestigating this terrible crime," he said simply.
"I desired an interview with you in order to ask a few questions," saidMerrington, coming to the point at once.
Miss Heredith bowed.
"Were all the blinds down in the dining-room last night during dinner?"asked Merrington.
Captain Stanhill looked quickly at his colleague. He failed to see thepurpose of the question.
"I think so," replied Miss Heredith, after a moment's reflection. "Icannot say for certain, as I was out of the room during the latterportion of the dinner, but I can easily ascertain." She touched a bell,which was answered by a maidservant. "Tell Mr. Tufnell I wish to speakto him," she said.
The girl went away, and Tufnell appeared a moment afterwards.
"Were the blinds all drawn in the dining-room during dinner last night,Tufnell?"
"Yes, ma'am. I pulled them down myself before sounding the gong."
"Thank you, Tufnell."
"I understand that you were not present at the dinner table when theshot was fired?" said Merrington when the butler had left the room.
"No, I was not."
"May I ask why you left the table?"
The question was put suavely enough, but a half-uttered protest fromCaptain Stanhill indicated that he, at least, realized the stingcontained within it. But Miss Heredith, looking at Merrington with herclear grey eyes, replied calmly:
"I was called out of the room to speak to our chauffeur. He had beenordered to have an extra vehicle in readiness to convey our guests to anevening entertainment, and he wished to consult me about it."
"Why did you not return to the dining-room?"
"Because dinner was nearly finished when I left the room."
"Where were you when the shot was fired?"
"I was on the stairs, on the way to my room when I heard the scream. Iwas hastening back to the dining-room as quickly as possible, but beforeI reached it the shot rang out."
"Surely these questions are unnecessary, Merrington," exclaimedCaptain Stanhill. "Anyone would think--I mean that there is not theslightest idea in our minds that Miss Heredith--at least, I meant tosay--" Captain Stanhill floundered badly as he realized that his remarkswere capable of a terrible interpretation which he did not intend, andbroke off abruptly.
"I am very glad that Superintendent Merrington has asked thesequestions," said Miss Heredith coldly.
Merrington bowed a grim acknowledgment. He had still many questions hewanted to ask Miss Heredith, and he proceeded to put them in his ownmasterful way, very much as though he were examining a witness in thepolice court, Captain
Stanhill thought, but in reality with a courtesyand consideration quite unusual for him. It was his best manner; hisworst, Captain Stanhill was to see later. As a matter of fact, it wasimpossible for Merrington to be gentle with anybody. He had spent somany years of his life probing into strange stories and sinistermysteries that he had insensibly come to regard the world as a largercriminal court, made up of tainted and adverse witnesses, whom it washis privilege to cross-question.
He questioned Miss Heredith searchingly about the young bride. Accordingto an eminent expert in jurisprudence, the tendency to believe thetestimony of others is an inherent instinct implanted in the humanbreast by the Almighty. If that be so, it is to be feared that the seedhad failed to germinate in Merrington's bosom, for his natural tendencywas to look upon his fellow creatures as liars, particularly when theywere of good social standing, with that hatred of notoriety which ischaracteristic of their class. Merrington had this fact in his mind ashe interrogated Miss Heredith closely about the circumstances of hernephew's marriage. He hoped to extract from her something which herEnglish pride might lead her to conceal, something which might throw alight on the motive for the murder.
Miss Heredith answered him with a frankness which even Merringtongrudgingly realized left nothing to be desired. She was, apparently,only too anxious to help the police investigations to the best of herability. But what she had to tell amounted to very little. Her firstknowledge of her nephew's intention to marry was contained in a letterwritten home some four months before, in which he announced hisengagement to a young lady engaged in war work in a London Governmentoffice. A month later came the news that he was married, and wasbringing his young bride to the moat-house. The young couple arrived aweek after the receipt of the second letter. They were welcomed home,and settled down to country life in the old place. Phil left his post inthe War Office, and busied himself in looking after the estate. He wasvery fond of his young wife, but it was obvious from the first thatViolet found the quiet country existence rather dull after her Londonlife. She knew nobody in Sussex except Mrs. Weyne, the author's wife,who had been an acquaintance of hers in London years before, and she didnot seem to care much for the county people who visited the moat-house.She received letters from girl friends in London, and sometimes readextracts from them at the breakfast table, but her life, on the whole,was a secluded one. It was in order to brighten it that Phil suggested ahouse party. The guests consisted principally of Violet's and Phil'sLondon friends and acquaintances.
"Do you know the names of these girl friends who used to write to her?"asked Merrington.
Miss Heredith replied that she did not.
"I suppose her husband would know them?"
"It is quite impossible to question my nephew," said Miss Heredithdecisively. "He is dreadfully ill."
Merrington nodded in a dissatisfied sort of way. He was aware of Phil'sillness, and his suspicious mind wondered whether it had been assumedfor the occasion in order to keep back something which the police oughtto know. His thick lip curled savagely at the idea. If these peopletried to hide anything from him in order to save a scandal, so much theworse for them. But that was something he would go into later.
The next questions he put to Miss Heredith were designed to ascertainwhat she thought of the murder, whether she had any suspicions of herown, and whether there was any reason for suspecting Miss Heredithherself. At that stage of the inquiry it was Merrington's business tosuspect everybody. He could not afford to allow the slightest chance toslip. His object was to get at the truth; to weigh each particle ofsupposition or evidence without regard to the feelings or socialposition of the witness.
The case so far puzzled him, and Miss Heredith's answers to hisquestions revealed little about the murder that he had not previouslyknown. The only additional facts he gleaned related to the murderedgirl's brief existence at the moat-house; of her earlier history and herLondon life Miss Heredith knew nothing whatever. Merrington made somenotes of the replies in an imposing pocket-book, but he was plainlydissatisfied as he turned to another phase of the investigation.
"Were all your guests in the dining-room at the time the scream and theshot were heard?" he asked.
"They were all there when I left the room. The butler can tell you ifany left afterwards."
"I will question Tufnell on that point later. No, on second thoughts, itwill be better to settle it now. I attach importance to it."
Tufnell was recalled to the room, and, in reply to SuperintendentMerrington's question, stated that none of the guests left thedining-room before the shot was fired. Tufnell added they were allinterested in listening to a story that Mr. Musard was telling. Havingimparted this information the butler returned to the breakfast room,overweighted with the responsibility of superintending the morning mealin his mistress's absence.
"Is this Musard the jewel expert of that name?" asked Merrington.
"Our guest is Mr. Vincent Musard, the explorer," replied Miss Heredithcoldly.
"The same man." Merrington made another minute note in his pocket-book,and continued, "May I take it, then, that all your guests who werestaying here were assembled in the dining-room at the time the murderwas committed?"
"Yes; except one who left during the afternoon."
"Who was that?"
"Captain Nepcote, a friend of my nephew's. He received a telegramrecalling him to the front, and returned to London by the afternoontrain."
Merrington made a note of this in his pocket-book with an air offinality, and asked Miss Heredith to see that the servants were sent tothe library one by one, to be questioned. Miss Heredith said she wouldarrange it with the housekeeper, and was then politely escorted to thedoor by Captain Stanhill.
The next few hours were educative for Captain Stanhill. Although he wasChief Constable of Sussex, he took no part in the proceedings, but satat the table like a man in a dream, living in a world of SuperintendentMerrington's creation--a world of sinister imaginings and vile motives,through which stealthy suspicion prowled craftily with padded feet,seeking a victim among the procession of weeping maids, stolidunder-gardeners, stable hands, and anxious upper servants who presentedthemselves in the library to be questioned. But it seemed to CaptainStanhill that though the women were flustered and the men nervous, theyknew nothing whatever about the atrocious murder which had beencommitted a few hours before in the room above their heads. Merringtonalso seemed to be aware that he was getting no nearer the truth with histraps, his questions, and his bullying, and he grew so angry and savageas the day wore on that he reminded Captain Stanhill of a bull he hadonce seen trying to rend a way through a mesh. As the morning advanced,Merrington's face took on a deeper tint of purple, his fierce littleeyes grew more bloodshot, and between the intervals of examining theservants he mopped his perspiring head with a large handkerchief.
The significance of one fact he did not realize until afterwards. Thelast of the inmates of the moat-house to come to the library was thehousekeeper, Mrs. Rath, who presented herself at his request in order toacquaint him with the details of the domestic management of thehousehold. Mrs. Rath entered the room with a nervous air. Her white facecontrasted oddly with her black dress, and her hands shook slightly, inspite of her effort to appear composed. Merrington stared at hercareworn face and hollow grey eyes with the perplexed sensation of a manwho is confronted with a face familiar to him, but is unable to recallits identity.
"Where have I seen you before?" he blurted out.
The housekeeper raised frightened eyes, ringed with black, to histruculent face, but dropped them again without speaking. Merrington didnot repeat his question. He did not imagine the housekeeper knewanything about the murder, but it was a mistake to put a witness on herguard. It was in quite a different tone that he thanked Mrs. Rath forsending the servants to the library, and asked her to describe thehousehold arrangements of the previous night. Mrs. Rath, who had beenpalpably nervous after his first question, became reassured and more ather ease, and answered him intelli
gently.
"And where were you at the time of the murder, Mrs. Rath?" pursuedMerrington, when he had drawn forth these details.
"I was in my sitting-room."
"Did you hear the scream and the shot?"
"I heard the scream, but not the shot."
"How was that?"
"My sitting-room is a long way from Mrs. Heredith's room. Perhaps thatis the reason."
Merrington looked at the position of the housekeeper's room on the planof the moat-house which Caldew had drawn. As she said, it was aconsiderable distance to her room, which was in the old portion of thehouse, near the rear, and on the ground floor.
"Were you alone in your room?" he asked.
"No. My daughter was sitting with me."
To a quick ear it may have seemed that the answer was a trifle long incoming.
Merrington shook his head irritably. Really, it seemed impossible toreach the end of the people who were in this infernal moat-house at thetime of the murder.
"Does your daughter live with you here?" he asked.
"Oh, no. She came to see me yesterday afternoon, and stayed all nightbecause she missed her train back after--after the tragedy."
"Is she here now?"
"No. She went away by an early train. She is employed as a milliner atStading, the market town, which is ten miles away."
"She lives there, I suppose?"
"Yes. She lives in."
"Who is her employer?"
"Mr. Closeby, the draper. Daniel Closeby and Son is the name of thefirm."
Merrington made another note in his pocket-book. It sounded plausibleenough, but the girl must be added to the lengthening list of people inthe case who would have to be seen.
"I think that is all I need detain you for, Mrs. Rath," he said.
The housekeeper lingered to inquire when the gentlemen would like theirlunch. Merrington, who had breakfasted early and passed an arduousmorning, replied bluntly that it could not be too soon to please him.
"I'll have it served in the small breakfast-room in a quarter of anhour," said Mrs. Rath, hurrying away.
Her whole bearing, as she departed, indicated such an air ofirrepressible relief at having passed through a trying ordeal that allMerrington's former doubts of her revived.
"I'd give something to remember where I've seen that infernal womanbefore," he ejaculated, slapping his thigh emphatically.
"What infernal woman?" asked Captain Stanhill, who had come to theconclusion that he did not like Superintendent Merrington or his styleof conversation.
"Why, that woman who has just left the room--that housekeeper. I've seenher before somewhere, in very different circumstances, but I cannotrecall where. I recollect her face distinctly--particularly her eyes. Iflatter myself I never forget a pair of eyes. Confound it, where thedevil have I seen her?"
Captain Stanhill turned away indifferently, and the conversation wasterminated by the appearance of Detective Caldew, who appeared in thedoorway as Mrs. Rath left the room.
"Dr. Holmes is waiting in the drawing-room if you wish to see him," heannounced.
"Bring him here," commanded Merrington curtly. He had a great notion ofhis self-importance, and had no intention of dancing attendance on amere country practitioner.
Caldew went away, and shortly reappeared with a little man whom heintroduced as Dr. Holmes. The doctor was a meagre shrimp of humanity,with a peevish expression on his withered little face, as though he werebored with his own nonentity. He was dressed in faded clothes andcarried a small black bag in one hand and a worn hat in the other. If hehad any idea of airing a professional protest at being compelled to waitupon the police, the thought vanished as his eye took in the stupendousstature of Superintendent Merrington, who towered above him like amastiff standing over a toy terrier.
"Sit down, doctor," he curtly commanded. "I want to ask you a fewquestions about the death of Mrs. Heredith. You examined the body, Iunderstand?"
Dr. Holmes bowed, put on a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles in order tosee Superintendent Merrington better, and waited to be questioned.
"I understand you were summoned to the moat-house last night, doctor,after Mrs. Heredith was murdered, and examined the body. What was thecause of death?"
"The cause of death was a bullet wound," pronounced the doctororacularly.
"I am aware of that much," answered Merrington irritably. "But a bulletwound is not necessarily fatal. Mrs. Heredith lived some time after herdeath, so it is certain that the bullet which killed her did notpenetrate the heart. What is the nature of the injuries it inflicted?"
"Death in Mrs. Heredith's case was the result of a bullet passingthrough the left lung. It passed between the second and third ribs inentering the body, traversed the lung, causing a great flow of blood,which filled the air passages."
"Then the cause of death was haemorrhage?"
"Yes. There was very severe internal haemorrhage. The face and theleft-hand side of the neck were covered with blood. There had also beenbleeding from the mouth and nose. Mr. Musard, who accompanied me to theroom, told me he had washed it away while Mrs. Heredith was dying, in anendeavour to staunch the flow."
"She was quite dead when you saw her?"
"Oh, yes. Judging by the warmth of the body, and by the fact that bloodhad ceased to flow, I should say that death had taken place about fortyminutes before."
"What time did you reach the moat-house?"
"It would be about twenty minutes past eight. Sergeant Lumbe called atmy house at ten minutes past the hour--I made a note of the time--and Iwent immediately. It is about ten minutes' walk to the moat-house fromthe village."
"Was the main blood vessel of the lung broken?" asked Captain Stanhill,who had been following the doctor's remarks with close attention.
"The aorta? It is difficult to say from an external examination. Mr.Musard tells me that Mrs. Heredith died about five minutes after hereached the room. The aorta is a very large vessel, and if it were burstbleeding to death would be very rapid."
"Could the wound have been self-inflicted?" asked Merrington.
Dr. Holmes pursed his lips.
"I can form no definite opinion on that point," he said. "By thedirection of the bullet, I should say not."
"Have you found the bullet?"
"No, it is in the body. As apparently it took a course towards the rightafter entering the body, and there is no corresponding wound in theback, I should say that it is lodged somewhere in the vertical column.Of course, I cannot be sure."
"The Government pathologist will clear up these points when he makes thepost-mortem examination," said Merrington. "I do not think we have anymore questions to ask you, doctor."
"How is your patient, the young husband?" asked Captain Stanhill, as Dr.Holmes rose.
"The symptoms point to brain fever. The family, on my advice, have sentto London for Sir Ralph Horton, the eminent brain doctor."
"I do not wonder his mind has given way under the shock," remarkedCaptain Stanhill. "To lose his wife in such terrible circumstances afterthree months' marriage must have been a cruel blow."
"It was the worse in his case because he has always been nervous andhighly strung from childhood--partly, I think, as the result of hisinfirmity. He has a deformed foot. His present illness seems to be acomplete overthrow of the nervous system. I have been with him thegreater part of the night. He has been highly delirious, but he is alittle quieter now."
Merrington pricked up his ears at this last remark. After his fruitlessinvestigations of the morning he was inclined to think that the clue tothe murder lay in the past--it might be in some former folly or secretintrigue of the young wife's single days. The question was, in thatcase, whether the husband was likely to have any knowledge of his wife'ssecret. If he had, he might, in his delirium, babble something whichwould provide a clue to trace the murderer. It was a poor chance, butthe poorest chance was worth trying in such a baffling case.
"I should like to have a look at your patient
," he said to Dr. Holmes.
"It would be impossible to question him in his present state," repliedthe doctor stiffly.
"I do not wish to question him. I merely wish to look at him."
"In that case you may see him. He is quite unconscious, and recognizesnobody. I will take you to his room, if you wish."
The little doctor bustled along the corridor, and turned into a passagetraversing the right wing of the moat-house. About half way down it hepaused before a door, which he opened softly, and motioned to the othertwo to enter.
It was a single bedroom, panelled in oak, which was dark with age, withone small window; but it had the advantage of being as far away aspossible from the upstairs bedroom in the left wing where Phil's wifelay murdered. A small fire burnt in the grate, a china bowl of autumnflowers bloomed on a table near the bedside, and a capable looking nursewas preparing a draught by the window. She glanced at the three men asthey entered, but went on with her occupation.
The sick man lay on his back, breathing heavily. His black hair framed aface which was ghastly in its whiteness, and his upturned eyes, barelyvisible beneath the half-closed lids, seemed fixed and motionless.
"Any change, nurse?" the doctor asked.
"No change, sir."
But even as she spoke Phil's face changed in a manner which waswonderful in its suddenness. His features became contorted, as though asword had been thrust through his vitals, and he struggled upright inhis bed, with one shaking hand outstretched. His eyes, glaring withdelirium, roved restlessly over the faces of the men at the foot of thebed.
"She's dead, I tell you! Violet's dead.... Have they found him? Ah,who's that?"
Once again he uttered his young wife's name, and fell back on thepillow, motionless as before, but with one arm athwart his face, asthough to cover his eyes.
"I shall be glad if you will leave the room," said the little doctorgravely. "Your presence excites him." He hurried round to the bedsideand bent over his patient.
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