Simon

by J. Storer Clouston

  XI

  NEWS

  Even in that scattered countryside of long distances by windy roads,with scarcely ever a village as a focus for gossip, news flew fast. Thenext morning Ned Cromarty had set out with his gun towards a certainsnipe marsh, but while he was still on the high road he met a man on abicycle. The man had heard strange news and stopped to pass it on, andthe next moment Ned was hurrying as fast as his long legs could take himback to the castle.

  He saw his sister only for a moment.

  "Lilian!" he cried, and the sound of his voice made her start and stareat him. "There's a story that Sir Reginald was murdered last night."

  "Murdered!" she repeated in a low incredulous voice. "Ridiculous, Ned!Who told you?"

  "I only know the man by sight, but he seemed to believe it rightenough."

  "But how--who did it?"

  Her brother shook his head.

  "Don't know. He couldn't tell me. My God, I hope it's not true! I'm offto see."

  A few minutes later he was driving his mare headlong for his kinsman'shouse. It had begun to rain by this time, and the mournful wreaths ofvapour that swept over the bare, late autumnal country and drove in finedrops against his face sent his spirits down ever lower as the maresplashed her way along the empty miles of road. The melancholy thrummingof the telegraph wires droned by his side all the while, and as thisdirge waxed for the moment as they passed each post, his eye wouldglance grimly at those gaunt poles. Very suitable and handy for acertain purpose, they struck him--if by any possibility this tale weretrue.

  He knew the worst when he saw Bisset at the door.

  "Thank God, you've come, sir," said the butler devoutly. "The masterwould have expected it of you."

  "How did it happen? What does it mean? Do you mean to say it's actually_true_?"

  Bisset shook his head sombrely.

  "Ower true," said he. "But as to how it happened, come in to thelibrary, sir. It was in his ain library he was killed! The Fiscal andSuperintendent is there now and we've been going into the circumstantialevidence. Most extraordinary mystery, sir--most extraordinary!"

  In the library they found Simon Rattar and Superintendent Sutherland.The Superintendent was a big burly red-moustached man; his face acertificate of honesty, but hardly of the intellectual type. Ned lookedround him apprehensively for something else, but Bisset said:

  "We've taken him upstairs, sir."

  For a moment as he looked round that spacious comfortable room with itslong bookcases and easy chairs, and on the tables and mantel-piece ahundred little mementoes of its late owner, the laird of Stanesland wasunable to speak a word, and the others respected his silence. Then hepulled himself together sharply and asked:

  "How did it happen? Tell me all about it!"

  Perhaps there might have been for a moment in Simon's eye a hint thatthis demand was irregular, but the superintendent evidently took noexception to the intrusion. Besides being a considerable local magnateand a kinsman of the dead baronet, Stanesland had a forcible personalitythat stood no gainsaying.

  "Well, sir," said the superintendent, "Mr. Rattar could perhaps explainbest----"

  "Explain yourself, Sutherland," said Simon briefly.

  The superintendent pointed to a spot on the carpet a few paces from thedoor.

  "We found Sir Reginald lying there," he said. "His skull had been fairlycracked, just over the right eye, sir. The blow would have been enoughto kill him I'd think myself, but there were marks in his neck too,seeming to show that the murderer had strangled him afterwards to makesure. However, we'll be having the medical evidence soon. But there's nodoubt that was the way of it, and Mr. Rattar agrees with me."

  The lawyer merely nodded.

  "What was it done with?"

  The superintendent pursed his lips and shook his head.

  "That's one of the mysterious things in the case, sir. There's no signof any weapon in the room. The fire irons are far too light. But it wasan unco' heavy blow. There was little bleeding, but the skull was faircracked."

  "Was anything stolen?"

  "That's another mystery, sir. Nothing was stolen anywhere in the houseand there was no papers in a mess like, or anything."

  "When was he found?" asked Ned.

  "Seven-fifty this morning, sir," said Bisset. "The housemaid finding thedoor lockit came to me. I knew the dining-room key fitted this door too,so I opened it--and there he lay."

  "All night, without any one knowing he hadn't gone to bed?"

  "That's the unfortunate thing, sir," said the superintendent. "It seemsthat Sir Reginald had arranged to sleep in his dressing room as he wasgoing to be sitting up late reading."

  "Murderer must have known that," put in Simon.

  "Almost looks like it," agreed the superintendent.

  "And nobody in the house heard or saw anything?"

  "Nobody, sir," said the superintendent.

  "That's their statement," added the lawyer in his driest voice.

  "Was anybody sitting up late?"

  "Nobody admits it," said the lawyer, again very drily.

  "Thirteen," said Bisset softly.

  They turned towards him, but it seemed that he was talking to himself.He was, in fact, quietly taking measurements with a tape.

  "Go on," said Cromarty briefly.

  "Well, sir," said the superintendent. "The body was found near the dooras I was pointing out, but it's a funny thing that a small table hadbeen upset apparently, and Bisset tells us that that table stood nearthe window."

  "Humph," grunted Simon sceptically.

  "I'm quite sure of it, Mr. Rattar," said Bisset confidently, lookinground from his work of measurement.

  "No positive proof it was upset," said the lawyer.

  "Did you find it upset?" asked Ned.

  The lawyer shook his head emphatically and significantly, and thesuperintendent agreed.

  "No, it was standing just where it is now near the wall."

  "Then why do you think it was upset?"

  "I picked up yon bits of sealing wax and yon piece of India rubber,"said Bisset, looking round again. "I know they were on the wee tableyesterday and I found them under the curtain in the morning and thetable moved over to the wall. It follows that the table has been cowpitand then set up again in another place, and the other things on it putback. Is that not a fair deduction, sir?"

  Ned nodded thoughtfully.

  "Seems to me so," he said.

  "It seems likely enough," the superintendent also agreed. "And if that'sthe case there would seem to have been some kind of ongoings near thewindow."

  The Procurator Fiscal still seemed unconvinced.

  "Nothing to go on. No proper evidence. It leads nowhere definitely," hesaid.

  "Well now," continued the superintendent, "the question is--how did themurderer get into the room? The door was found locked and the key hadbeen taken away, so whether he had locked it from the inside or theoutside we can't tell. There's small chance of finding the key, I doubt,for a key's a thing easy hidden away."

  "So he might have come in by the door and then left by the door andlocked it after him," said Ned. "Or he might have come in by the window,locked the door and gone out by the window. Or he might have come in bythe window and gone out by the door, locking it after him. Those are allthe chances, aren't they?"

  "Indeed, that seems to be them all," said the superintendent with a noteof admiration for this clear exposition that seemed to indicate he wasbetter himself at details than deductions.

  "And now what about the window? Was that open or shut or what?"

  "Shut but not snibbed, sir."

  Ned turned to Bisset.

  "Did Sir Reginald ever forget to snib the windows, supposing onehappened to be open?"

  "Practically never, sir."

  "Last thing before he left the room, I suppose?" said the lawyer.

  The butler hesitated.

  "I suppose so, sir," he admitted, "but of course I was never here tosee."

/>   "Exactly!" said Simon. "Therefore one can draw no conclusions as towhether the window had been standing all the time just as it is now, orwhether it had been opened and shut again from the outside; seeing thatSir Reginald was presumably killed before his usual time for looking tothe windows."

  "Wait a bit!" said Ned. "I was assuming a window had been open. But werethe windows fastened before Sir Reginald came in to sit here lastthing?"

  "Certainly they were that," said the butler emphatically.

  "It was a mild night, he might have opened one himself," replied theProcurator Fiscal. "Or supposing the man had come in and left again bythe door, what's more likely than that he unsnibbed the window to makepeople think he had come that way?"

  "He would surely have left it wide open," objected Ned.

  "Might have thought that too obvious," replied the lawyer, "or mighthave been afraid of the noise. Unsnibbing would be quite enough tosuggest entry that way."

  Ned turned his keen eye hard on him.

  "What's your own theory then?"

  "I've none," grunted Simon. "No definite evidence one way or the other.Mere guesses are no use."

  Ned walked to the window and looked at it carefully. Then he threw it upand looked out into the garden.

  "Of course you've looked for footsteps underneath?" he asked.

  "Naturally," said Simon. "But it's a hard gravel path and grass beyond.One could fancy one saw traces, but no definite evidence."

  The window was one of three together, with stone mullions between. Theywere long windows reaching down nearly to the level of the floor, sothat entrance that way was extremely easy if one of them were open.Cromarty got out and stood on the sill examining the middle sash.

  Simon regarded him with a curious caustic look for a moment in his eye.

  "Looking for finger marks?" he enquired.

  "Yes," said Ned. "Did you look for them?"

  For a single instant the Procurator Fiscal seemed a little taken aback.Then he grunted with a half laugh:

  "Don't believe much in them."

  "Experienced criminals, that's been convicted before, frequently wearsgloves for to prevent their finger prints being spotted," said thelearned Bisset.

  Mr. Rattar shot him a quick ambiguous glance, and then his eyes assumedtheir ordinary cold look and he said:

  "No evidence anybody ever opened that window from the outside. If theyhad, Sir Reginald would have heard them."

  "Well," said Ned, getting back into the room, "there are no finger marksanyhow."

  "The body being found near the door certainly seems to be in favour ofMr. Rattar's opinion," observed the superintendent.

  "I thought Mr. Rattar had formed no opinion yet," said Cromarty.

  "No more I have," grunted the lawyer.

  The superintendent looked a trifle perplexed.

  "Before Mr. Cromarty had come in, sir, I understood you for to sayeverything pointed to the man having come in by the door and hit SirReginald on the head as he came to see who it was when he heard himoutside."

  "I merely suggested that," said Simon Rattar sharply. "It fits thefacts, but there's no definite evidence yet."

  Ned Cromarty had turned and was frowning out of the window. Now hewheeled quickly and exclaimed:

  "If the murderer came in through the window while Sir Reginald was inthe room, either the window was standing open or Sir Reginald opened itfor him! Did Sir Reginald ever sit with his window open late at night atthis time of year?"

  "Never once, sir," said Bisset confidently. "He likit fresh air outsidefine but never kept his windies open much unless the weather was verapropitious."

  "Then," said Ned, "why should Sir Reginald have opened the window of hisown accord to a stranger at the dead of night?"

  "Exactly!" said Mr. Rattar. "Thing seems absurd. He'd never do it."

  "That's my own opinion likewise, sir," put in Bisset.

  "It's only common sense," added the superintendent.

  "Then how came the window to be unfastened?" demanded Ned.

  "I've suggested a reason," said Simon.

  "As a blind? Sounds to me damned thin."

  Simon Rattar turned away from him with an air that suggested that hethought it time to indicate distinctly that he was in charge of the caseand not the laird of Stanesland.

  "That's all we can do just now, Sutherland," he said. "No use disturbingthe household any longer at present."

  Cromarty stepped up to him suddenly and asked:

  "Tell me honestly! Do you suspect anybody?"

  Simon shook his head decidedly.

  "No sufficient evidence yet. Good morning, Mr. Cromarty."

  Ned was following him to the door, his lips compressed and his eyes onthe floor, when Bisset touched his arm and beckoned him back.

  "Excuse me, sir," said he, "but could you not manage just to stop on fora wee bit yet?"

  Ned hesitated.

  "They won't be wanting visitors, Bisset."

  "They needn't know if you don't want them to, sir. Lady Cromarty is shutup in her room, and the others are keeping out of the way. If youwouldn't mind my giving you a little cold luncheon in my sitting room,sir, I'd like to have your help. I'm making a few sma' bits ofinvestigation on my own. You're one of the family, sir, and I knowyou'll be wanting to find out who killed the master."

  Ned's eye flashed suddenly.

  "By God, I'll never rest in this world or the next till I do! All right,I'll wait for a bit."