Simon

by J. Storer Clouston

  XXIV

  MR. BISSET'S ASSISTANT

  At eleven o'clock next morning a motor car drove up to Keldale House andan exceedingly affable and pleasing stranger delivered a note from Mr.Simon Rattar to Mr. James Bisset. Even without an introduction, Mr.Carrington would have been welcome, for though Mr. Bisset's sway overKeldale House was by this time almost despotic, he had begun to findthat despotism has its lonely side, and to miss "the gentry." With anintroduction, Mr. Carrington quickly discovered that Mr. Bisset and themansion he supervised were alike entirely at his disposal.

  The preliminary discussion on the sporting possibilities of the estateand the probability of its being let next season impressed Mr. Bissetvery favourably indeed with his visitor; and then when the conversationhad passed very naturally to the late tragedy in the house, he was stillfurther delighted to find that Mr. Carrington not only shared his owndetective enthusiasm, but was vastly interested in his views on thisparticular mystery.

  "Come along here, sir," said he, "we can just have a look at thelibrary and I'll explain to you the principles of the thing."

  "I'd like to see the actual scene of the crime immensely!" cried Mr.Carrington eagerly. "You are sure that Lady Cromarty won't object?"

  "Not her," said Bisset. "She's never in this part of the house now.She'll be none the wiser anyhow."

  This argument seemed to assure Mr. Carrington completely, and they wentalong to the library.

  "Now," began Bisset, "I'll just explain to you the haill situation. Herewhere I'm laying this sofie cushion was the corp. Here where I'mstanding the now was the wee table, and yon's the table itself."

  To the disquisition that followed, Mr. Carrington listened with the mostintelligent air. Bisset had by this time evolved quite a number of newtheories, but the one feature common to them all was the hypothesis thatthe murderer must have come in by the window and was certainly not aninmate of the household. His visitor said little till he had finished,and then he remarked:

  "Well, Bisset, you don't seem to put much faith in the current theory, Isee."

  "Meaning that Sir Malcolm and Miss Farmond were concerned?" said Bissetindignantly. "That's just the ignorance of the uneducated masses, sir!The thing's physically impossible, as I've just been demonstrating!"

  Carrington smiled and gently shook his head.

  "I don't know much about these things," said he, "but I'm afraid I can'tsee the physical impossibility. It was very easy for any one in thehouse to come downstairs and open that door, and if Sir Reginald knewhim, it would account for his silence and the absence of any kind of astruggle."

  "But yon table and the windie being unfastened! And the mud I picked upmyself--and the hearth brush!"

  "They scarcely make it impossible," said Carrington.

  "Well, sir," demanded the butler, "what's your own theory?"

  Carrington said nothing for several minutes. He strolled up and down theroom, looked at the table and the window, and at last asked:

  "Do you remember quite distinctly what Sir Reginald looked like when youfound him--the position of the body--condition of the clothes--andeverything else?"

  "I see him lying there every night o' my life, just as plain as I seeyou now!"

  "The feet were towards the door, just as though he had been facing thedoor when he was struck down?"

  "Aye, but then my view is the body was moved----"

  He was interrupted by a curious performance on Mr. Carrington's part.His visitor was in fact stretching himself out on the floor on the spotwhere Sir Reginald was found.

  "He lay like this?" he asked.

  "Aye, practically just like that, sir."

  "Now, Bisset," said the recumbent visitor, "just have a very good lookat me and tell me if you notice any difference between me and the bodyof Sir Reginald."

  Bisset looked for a few seconds and then exclaimed:

  "Your clothes are no alike! The master's coat was kind of pulled up likeabout his shoulders and neck. Oh, and I mind now the tag at the back forhanging it up was broken and sticking out."

  Carrington sprang to his feet with a gleam in his eye.

  "The tag was not broken before he put on the coat?"

  "It certainly was not that! But what's your deduction, sir?"

  Carrington smiled at him.

  "What do you think yourself, Bisset? You saw how I threw myself downquite carelessly and yet my coat wasn't pulled up like that."

  "God, sir!" cried the butler. "You mean the corp had been pulled alongthe floor by the shoulders!"

  Carrington nodded.

  "Then he had been killed near the windie!"

  "Not too fast, not too fast!" smiled Carrington. "Your own firststatement which I happened to read in a back number of the newspaperthe other day said that the windows were all fastened when Sir Reginaldcame into the room."

  "Ah, but I've been altering my opinion on that point, sir."

  Carrington shook his head.

  "I'm afraid because a fastened window doesn't suit your theory."

  "But the master might have opened it to him, thinking it was some one heknew."

  "Sounds improbable," said Carrington thoughtfully.

  "But not just absolutely impossible."

  "No," said Carrington, still very thoughtfully, "not impossible."

  "Sir Reginald might never have seen it was a stranger till the man wasfairly inside."

  Carrington smiled and shook his head.

  "Thin, Bisset; very thin. Why need the man have been a stranger at all?"

  Bisset's face fell.

  "But surely you're not believing yon story that it was Sir Malcolm andMiss Farmond after a'?"

  His visitor stood absolutely silent for a full minute. Then he seemedsuddenly to banish the line of thought he was following.

  "Is it quite certain that those two are engaged?" he asked.

  Bisset's face showed his surprise at the question.

  "They all say so," said he.

  "Have either of them admitted it?"

  "No, sir."

  "Why don't they acknowledge it now and get married?"

  "They say it's because they daurna for fear of the scandal."

  "'They' say again!" commented Carrington. "But, look here, Bisset, youhave been in the house all the time. Did you think they were engaged?"

  "Honestly, sir, I did not. There's nae doubt Sir Malcolm was sweet onthe young lady, but deil a sign of sweetness on him did I ever see inher!"

  "Do they correspond now?"

  Bisset shook his head.

  "Hardly at a'. But of course folks just say they are feared to now."

  "Has anybody asked either of them if they are--or ever were--engaged?"

  "No, sir. But if they denied it now, folks would just say the samething."

  "Yes. I see--naturally. Lady Cromarty believes it and is keeping MissFarmond under her eye, the gossips tell me. Is that so?"

  "Oh, that's true right enough, sir."

  "Who told Lady Cromarty?"

  "That I do not know, sir."

  Again the visitor seemed to be thinking, and again to cast his thoughtsaside and take up a new aspect of the case.

  "Supposing," he suggested, "we were to draw the curtains and light thesecandles for a few minutes? It might help us to realise the wholething."

  This suggestion pleased Mr. Bisset greatly and in a minute or two thecandles were lit and the curtains drawn.

  "Put the table where it stood," said Carrington. "Now which was SirReginald's chair? This?"

  He sat in it and looked slowly round the darkened, candle-lit library.

  "Now," said he, "suppose I was Sir Reginald, and there came a tap atthat window, what would I do?"

  "If you were the master, sir, you'd go straight to the windie to see whoit was."

  "I wouldn't get in a funk and ring the bell?"

  "No fears!" said Bisset confidently.

  "And any one who knew Sir Reginald at all well could count on his notgiving the alarm the
n if they tapped at the window?"

  "They could that."

  Carrington looked attentively towards the window.

  "Those curtains hang close against the window, I see," he observed. "Avery slight gap in them would enable any one to get a good view of theroom, if the blinds were not down. Were the blinds down that night?"

  Bisset slapped his knee.

  "The middle blind wasn't working!" he cried. "What a fool I've been notto think on the extraordinar' significance of that fac'! My, thedeductions to be drawn! You've made it quite clear now, sir. The mantappit at that windie----"

  "Steady, steady!" said Carrington, smiling and yet seriously. "Don't yougo announcing that theory! If there's anything in it--mum's the word!But mind you, Bisset, it's only a bare possibility. There's no goodevidence against the door theory yet."

  "Not the table being cowpit and the body moved?"

  "They might be explained."

  He was thoughtful for a moment and then said deliberately:

  "I want--I mean you want certain evidence to exclude the door theory.Without that, the window theory remains a guess. Sir Malcolm is inLondon, I understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Likely to be coming north soon?"

  "No word of it, sir."

  Mr. Carrington reflected for a moment and then rose and went towards thewindow.

  "We can draw back the curtains now," said he.

  He drew them as he spoke and on the instant stepped involuntarily backand down went the small table. Miss Cicely Farmond was standing justoutside, evidently arrested by the drawn curtains. Her eyes opened verywide indeed at the sight of Mr. Carrington suddenly revealed. Her lipsparted for an instant as though she would cry out, and then she hurriedaway.

  Mr. Carrington seemed more upset by this incident than one would expectfrom such a composed, easy-going young man.

  "What will they think of me!" he exclaimed. "You must be sure to tellMiss Farmond--and Lady Cromarty too if she hears of this--that I camesolely to enquire about the shootings and not to poke my nose into theirlibrary! Make that very explicit, Bisset."

  Even though assured by Bisset that the young lady was the most amiableperson imaginable, he was continuing to lay stress on the point when hisattention was abruptly diverted by the sight of another lady in deepblack walking slowly away from the house.

  "Is that Lady Cromarty?" he asked, and no sooner had Bisset said "yes"than the window was up and Mr. Carrington stepping out of it.

  "I really must explain and apologise to her ladyship," said he.

  "Her ladyship will never know----!" began Bisset, but the surprisingvisitor was already hastening after the mourning figure. Had the worthyman been able to hear the conversation which ensued he would have beenmore surprised still.

  "Lady Cromarty, I believe?" said the stranger in a deferential voice.

  She turned quickly, and her eyes searched him with that hard glance theywore always nowadays.

  "Yes, I am Lady Cromarty," she said.

  "Pardon me for disturbing you," said he. "It is a mere brief matter ofbusiness. I represent an insurance company to which Sir Malcolm Cromartyhas made certain proposals. We are not perfectly satisfied with hisstatements, and from other sources learn that he is engaged to bemarried. I have come simply to ascertain whether that is the case."

  Lady Cromarty was (as Mr. Carrington had shrewdly divined) no betterversed in the intricate matter of insurance than the majority of hersex, and evidently perceived nothing very unusual in this enquiry. Itmay be added in her excuse that the manner in which it was put by therepresentative of the company was a perfect example of how a businessman should address a lady.

  "It is the case," said she.

  "May I ask your ladyship's authority--in strict confidence of course?"enquired the representative firmly, but very courteously.

  "I learned it from my own man of business," said she.

  "Thank you," said the insurance representative. "I beg that yourladyship will say nothing of my call, and I shall undertake not tomention the source of my information," and with an adequate bow hereturned to the house.

  Before disappearing through her library window, Mr. Carrington saw thather ladyship's back was turned, and he then gave this candid, ifsomewhat sketchy, account of his interview to her butler.

  "It suddenly struck me," said he, "that Lady Cromarty might think itsomewhat unseemly of me to come enquiring about shooting so soon afterher bereavement; so I gave her a somewhat different explanation. She isnot likely to make any further enquiries about me and so you need saynothing about my visit."

  He was careful however to impress on his friend Mr. Bisset that heactually had come from purely sporting motives. In fact he professedsome anxiety to get in touch with Sir Malcolm on the subject, eventhough assured that the young baronet had nothing to do with theshootings.

  "Ah, but it will gratify him, Bisset," said he, "and I think it is thenice thing to do. Could you give me his London address?"

  He jotted this down in his pocket book, and then as he was leaving hesaid confidentially:

  "You tell me that you think Sir Malcolm is interested in Miss Farmond,though she seemed not so keen on him?"

  "That was the way of it to my thinking," said Bisset. "And whatdeduction would you draw from that, sir?"

  "I should deduce," said this sympathetic and intelligent visitor, "theprobable appearance of certain evidence bearing on our theories,Bisset."

  Mr. Bisset thought he had seldom met a pleasanter gentleman or a morehelpful assistant.