I
The mystery of Denson's death remained a mystery, despite all the policecould do. The coroner's jury returned a verdict of "Murder by someperson or persons unknown"--which, indeed, was all that could beexpected of them; for they had no more before them than the bare factthat the body, disguised in the clothes of a labourer, had been found onthe steps near the Duke of York's column, just before midnight, by apolice constable. But for the housekeeper's identification, even thename of the victim would have been unknown. The jury certainly wastedsome time in idle speculation as to the strange triangular mark found onthe forehead, without a speck of evidence to help them; but in the endthey returned their verdict, and went home.
But the police knew a little more than the jury, though that littlerather confused than helped them. They exercised their judgment at theinquest in withholding all evidence of the theft of diamonds on whichthe victim had been engaged, the curious particulars of which I havealready related. In this they followed their usual course in cases wherethe evidence withheld could give the jury no help in arriving at theirverdict, and at the same time might easily hamper further investigationsif revealed. For the theft had been frustrated by Martin Hewitt'sexertions, as we have seen, and in any case the thief was now dead andbeyond the reach of human punishment. The one matter now remaining forthe police was inquiry into the murder of this same thief, and the oneobject of their exertions the apprehension of the murderer or murderers.
The case, as I have already said, was in the hands of Inspector Plummer,an intelligent officer and an old friend of Hewitt's. A few days' workafter the inquest yielded Plummer so little result that he called atHewitt's office to talk matters over.
"I suppose," Plummer began, "it's no use asking if you've heard anythingmore of that matter of Denson's murder?"
Hewitt shook his head. "I haven't heard a word," he said. "If I had, itwould have come on to you at once. But I hope you've had some luckyourself?"
"Not a scrap; time wasted; and the few off-chance clues I tried have lednowhere, so that I'm where I was at the start. The thing is quite theoddest in all my experience. See how we stand. Here's a man, Denson, whohas just pulled off one of the cleverest jewel robberies ever attempted.He so arranges it that he walks safely off with fifteen thousand pounds'worth of diamonds, leaving the victim, Samuel, stuck patiently in anoffice for an hour or two before he even begins to suspect anything iswrong, and _then_ unable to set the police after him, for the reasonsyou discovered. But this Denson doesn't carry the plunder offstraightway, as he so easily might have done--he conceals it in the veryhouse where the robbery was committed, taking with him a key by aid ofwhich he may return and get it. Why? As you explained, it was probablybecause he feared somebody--feared being stopped and searched _on theday of the robbery_--not after, since it was plain he meant to returnfor his booty at night. Who could this have been, and why did Densonfear him? Mystery number one. Then this Denson is found dead that samenight disguised in the clothes of a labourer, in a most conspicuous spotin London--the last place in the world one would expect a murderer toselect for depositing his victim's body, for it is evidently _not_ theplace where the murder was committed. More, on the forehead there isthis extraordinary impressed mark of a Red Triangle. Now, what can allthat mean? Robbery, perhaps one thinks. But the body isn't robbed! Thereare three five-pound notes on it, besides a sovereign or two and somesmall change, a watch and chain, keys and all the rest of it. Then oneguesses at the diamonds. Perhaps it was an accomplice in the robbery,who finds that Denson is about to bolt with the whole lot. But ifthere's one thing plain in this amazing business it is that Denson _had_no accomplice; he did the whole thing alone, as you discovered, and heneeded no help. More than that, if this were the work of an accomplicewhy didn't he get the jewels? There were the keys to his hand and heleft them! And would such a person actually go out of his way to put thebody where it must be discovered at once, instead of concealing it tillhe could himself get away with the diamonds? Of course not. But therewas no accomplice, and it's useless to labour that farther. All thesearguments apply equally against the theory that it was the work of somecriminal gang. They would have taken all they could get, notes, keys,diamonds and all, and they wouldn't have been so foolish as to exhibitthe body with that extraordinary mark; criminal gangs are not such foolsas to take unnecessary chances and gratuitously leave tracks behindthem, as you know well enough. Well then, there we stand. So far, do yousee any more in it than I do?"
Hewitt shook his head. "No," he said, "I can't say I do. All theconsiderations you have mentioned have already occurred to me. I talkedthem over, in fact, with my friend Brett. My connection with the caseceased, of course, with the discovery of the jewels, and about themurder I know no more than has been told me. I never saw the body, andso had no opportunity of picking up any overlooked clue; thoughdoubtless you have seen to that. I know not a tittle more than you havejust summarised, and on that alone the thing seems mystery pure andunadulterated."
"All there is beyond that was ascertained by the divisional surgeon onexamination of the body. The man died from strangulation, as you know,and the natural presumption from that was that the murderer must havebeen a powerful man. But the surgeon is of the positive opinion--he iscertain, in fact--that Denson was strangled with an instrument--atourniquet."
"A tourniquet?"
"Yes, a surgeon's tourniquet, such as is used to compress a leg or armand so stop a flow of blood. He considers the marks unmistakable. Nowthat might point to the murderer being a medical man."
"Conjecturally, yes; though, of course, it justifies nothing more thanconjecture."
"Precisely. Well, that was something, but precious little. A tourniquetis a common thing enough--no more than a band with screw fittings, andthere was nothing to show that the tourniquet used was any differentfrom a thousand others; and I can see no particular reason why a doctorshould commit a murder like this any more than any other man; in whichthe divisional surgeon agreed with me. And doctor or none, that RedTriangle was altogether unaccounted for. About that, too, by the way,the divisional surgeon told me a little, but a very useless little. Themark was not properly dried, owing to its slightly greasy nature, andalthough it was almost impossible to remove it wholly, it _was_ possibleto scrape off a little of the ink, or colour. Here is a little of it ona paper--quite dried now, of course."
Plummer carefully took from his pocket a small folded paper, unfoldedit, and revealed a smaller paper within. On this were two little smearsof a bright red colour. "There--that's the stuff," he said. "The surgeonexamined it, and he reports it to be rather oddly constituted--so as tobear some affinity of meaning, possibly, to the triangle. For the stuffis a compound of three substances--animal, vegetable and mineral; thereis a fine vegetable oil, he says, some waxy preparation, certainly ofanimal origin, and a mineral--cinnabar: vermilion, in fact. But thoughthere _may_ be some connection between the triangle and the substancesrepresenting the three natural kingdoms, it gives nothingpractical--nothing to go on."
Martin Hewitt had been closely examining the marks on the paper, and nowhe answered, "I'm not so sure of that, though, Plummer. I think at leastthat it gives us another conjecture. I should guess that the man youwant, as well as being acquainted with the use of the tourniquet, has atsome time travelled in, or to, China."
"Why?"
"Unless I am wider of the mark than usual, this is the pigment used onChinese seals. A Chinaman's seal acts for his signature on all sorts ofdocuments; it is impressed or printed by hand pressure from a littleengraved stone die, precisely as this triangle seems to have been, andthe ink or colour is almost always red, compounded of vermilion, wax,and oil of sesamum."
Plummer sat up with a whistle. "Phew! Then it may have been done by aChinaman!"
Hewitt shrugged his shoulders. "It's possible," he said; "of course,though, the sign, the triangle, is not a Chinese character. As acharacter, of course it is the Greek _Delta_. But it may be no characterat all. In the sign
s of the ancient Cabala, the triangle, apex upward asit was in this case, was the symbol of fire; apex downward, it signifiedwater."
Plummer patted the side of his head distractedly. "Heavens!" he said,"don't tell me I'm to search all China, and Greece, and--wherever thecabalistic pundits come from!"
"Well, no," Hewitt answered with a smile. "I think I should, at anyrate, begin in this country. I rather think you might make a beginningat Denson. That is what I should do if the case were mine. See ifanything can be ascertained of his previous life--probably under anothername or names. _He_ may have been in China. Yes, certainly, as we standat present, I should begin at Denson."
"I think I will," the inspector replied, "though there's precious littleto begin on there. I'd like to have you with me on this job, but, ofcourse, that's impossible, since it's purely a police matter. Butsomething, some information, may come your way, and in that case you'lllet me know at once, of course."
"Of course I shall--it's a serious matter, as well as a strange one. Iwish you all luck!"
Plummer departed to grapple with his difficulties, but in fact it wasHewitt who first heard fresh news of the Red Triangle, and that from awholly unexpected quarter.
It was, indeed, only two days after Plummer's visit that Kerrett broughtinto Hewitt's private room the card of the Rev. James Potswood, with arequest for a consultation. Mr. Potswood's name was known to Hewitt, as,indeed, it was to many people, as that of a most devoted clergyman,rector of a large parish in north-west London, who devoted not only allhis time and personal strength to his work, but also spent every pennyof his private income on his parish. It was not a small income that Mr.Potswood spent in this unselfish way, for he came of a wealthy family,and though a good part of his parish was inhabited by well-to-do people,there was quite enough poverty and distress in the poorer quarters tocause this excellent man often to regret that his resources were noteven larger. He was a spare active grey-whiskered man of nearly sixty,with prominent and not very handsome features, though his face was fullof frank and simple kindliness.
"My errand, Mr. Hewitt," he said, "is of a rather vague, not to sayvisionary, character, and I doubt if you can help me. But at any rate Iwill explain the trouble as well as I can. In the first place, am Iright in supposing that you were in some way professionally engaged inconnection with that extraordinary case of murder a week or so ago--thecase in which a man named Denson was found dead on the steps by the Dukeof York's column?"
"Yes--and no," Hewitt answered. "I was professionally engaged on acertain matter about which you will not wish me to particularise--sinceit is the business of a client--and in course of it I came upon theother affair."
"Then before I ask what you know of that mysterious event, Mr. Hewitt,I will tell you my story, so that you may judge whether you are able toreveal anything, or to do anything. Of course, what I say is in thestrictest confidence."
"Of course."
"I have a parishioner, a Mr. Jacob Mason, of whom I have seen verylittle of late years--scarcely anything at all, in fact, till a few daysago. He is fairly well to do, I believe, living a somewhat retired lifein a house not far from my rectory. For many years he has laboured atnatural science--chemistry in particular--and he has a very excellentlyfitted laboratory attached to his house. He is a widower, with nochildren of his own, but his orphan niece, a Miss Creswick, lives underhis guardianship. Mr. Mason was never a very regular church-goer, butyears ago I saw much more of him than I have of late. I must beperfectly frank with you, Mr. Hewitt, if you are to help me, andtherefore I must tell you that we disagreed on points of religion, insuch a way that I found it difficult to maintain my former regard forMr. Mason. He had a curiously fantastic mind, and he was constantlybeing led to tamper with things that I think are best left alone--whatis called spiritualism, for instance, and that horrible form of modernsuperstition which we hear whispers of at times from the Continent--thealleged devil-propitiation or worship. It was not that he did anything Ithought morally wrong, you understand--except that he dabbled. And hewas always running after some new thing--animal magnetism, or telepathy,or crystal-gazing, or theosophy, or some one of the score of such thingsthat have an attraction for a mind of that sort. And it was acharacteristic of each new enthusiasm with him that it prompted him totry to convert _me_; and that in such terms--terms often applied to thedoctrines of that religion of which I am a humble minister--as I couldin nowise permit in my presence. So that our friendly intercourse,though not interrupted by any definite breaking off, fell away to almostnothing. For which reason I was a little surprised to receive a visitfrom Mr. Mason on the afternoon of the day on which the newspapersprinted the report of the finding of the body of Denson. You mayremember that only one morning paper mentioned the matter, and that verybriefly; but there were full reports in all the evening papers."
"Yes, the discovery was made very late the previous night."
"So I gathered. Well, I was told that Mr. Mason had been shown into mystudy, and there I found him. He was in an extremely nervous andagitated state, and he had an evening paper in his hand. With scarcelya preliminary word he burst out, 'Have you seen this in the paper?This--this murder? There--there's the report.' And he thrust the paperinto my hands.
"I had not seen or heard anything of the matter, in fact, till thatmoment, and now he gave me little leisure to read the report. He walkedup and down the room, nervously clasping his hands, sometimes together,sometimes at his sides, sometimes before him, shaking his head in ashuddering sort of way, and bursting out once or twice as though thewords were uncontrollable, 'What ought I to do? What _can_ I do?'
"I looked up from the paper, and he went on, 'Have you read it? It's amurder--a horrid murder. The poor wretched fellow was trying to escape,but he couldn't. It's a murder!'
"'It certainly seems so,' I said. 'But what--did you know this man,Denson?'
"'No, of course not,' Mason replied, 'but there it is, plain enough, andhere's another paper with just the same report, but a little shorter.'He pulled the second paper from his pocket. 'I got what different papersI could, but these are the two fullest. It's plain enough it's a brutalmurder, isn't it? And the man was a merchant, or an agent, or something,in Portsmouth Street, but he was found in labourer's clothes--proof thathe feared it and was trying to escape it; but he couldn't--hecouldn't--no! nor anybody. It's awful, awful!'
"'But I don't understand,' I said. 'Won't you sit down?' For Masoncontinued to pace distractedly about the room. 'What is it you thinkthis unfortunate man was trying to escape? And what am I to do in thematter?'
"He stopped, pressed both hands to his head, and seemed to controlhimself by a great effort. 'You must excuse me,' he said. 'I'm a bit rundown lately, and my nerves are all wrong. I'm talking rather wildly,I'm afraid. I really hardly know why I came to you, except that Ihaven't a soul I can talk to about--well, about anything, scarcely.'
"He took a chair, and sat for a little while with his head forward onhis hand and his eyes directed towards the floor. Then he said, in amusing way, rather as though he was thinking aloud than talking to me,'You were right, after all, Potswood, and I was a fool to disregard yourwarnings. I oughtn't to have dabbled--I should have left those thingsalone.'
"I said nothing, thinking it best not to disturb him, but to leave himfree to say what he wanted to say in his own way. He remained quiet fora minute or two more, and then sat up with an appearance of much greatercomposure. 'You mustn't mind me, Potswood,' he said. 'As I've told you,I'm in a bad state of nerves, and at best I'm an impulsive sort ofperson, as you know. I needn't have bothered you like this--I camerushing round here without thinking, and if the house had been a bitfarther off I should have come to my senses before I reached you. Afterall, there's nothing so much to disturb one's-self about, and thisman--this Denson--may very well have deserved his fate. Don't you thinkthat likely?'
"He added this last question with an involuntary eagerness that scarcelyaccorded with the indifferent tone with which he had begun.
I answeredguardedly. I said of course nobody could say what the unhappy man's sinsmight have been, but that whatever they were they could never justifythe fearful sin of murder. 'And,' I added, 'if you know anything of thematter, Mason, or have the smallest suspicion as to who is the guiltyperson, I'm sure you won't hesitate in your duty.'
"'My duty?' he said. 'Oh yes, of course; my duty. You mean, of course,that any law-abiding citizen who knows of evidence should bring it out.Just so. Of course _I_ haven't any evidence--that paper gave me thefirst news of the thing.'
"'I think,' I rejoined, 'that anybody who was possessed of even lessthan evidence--of any suspicion which might lead to evidence--should goat once and place the authorities in possession of all he knows orsuspects.'
"'Yes,' he said--very calmly now, though it seemed at cost of a greateffort--'so he should; so he should, no doubt, in any ordinary case. Butsometimes there are difficulties, you know--great difficulties.' Hestopped and looked at me furtively and uneasily. 'A man might fear forhis own safety--he might even know that to say what he knew would be tocondemn himself to sudden death; and more, perhaps, more. Suppose--itmight be, you know--suppose, for instance, a man was placed between thealternatives of neglecting this duty and of breaking a--well an oath, abinding oath of a very serious--terrible--character? An oath, we willsay, made previously, without any foreknowledge of the crime?'
"I said that any such oath taken without foreknowledge of the crimecould not have contemplated such an event, and that however wrong thetaking of such an oath might have been in itself, to assist inconcealing such a crime as this murder was infinitely worse--infinitelyworse than taking the oath, and infinitely worse than breaking it.Though as to the latter, I repeated that any such engagement madewithout contemplation or foreknowledge of such a crime would seem to bevoid in that respect. I went further--much further. I conjured him tomake no secret of anything he might know, and not to burden hisconscience with complicity--for that was what concealment would amountto--in such a terrible crime. I added some further exhortations whichI need not repeat now, and presently his assumed calmness departedutterly, and he became even more agitated than when first he came. Hewould say nothing further, however, and in the end he went away, sayinghe would 'think over the matter very seriously.'
"It was quite plain to me that my poor friend was suffering acutely fromthe burden of some terrible secret, and that in his impulsive way he hadrushed to confide in me at the first shock of the news of this murder,and that afterwards his courage had failed him. But I conceived it myduty not to allow such a matter to stand thus. Therefore, giving Mason afew hours for calm consideration, I called on him in the evening. I wastold that he was not very well and had gone to bed; he had, however,left a message, in case I should call, to the effect that he would comeand see me in the morning. I waited the whole of that next morning andthe whole of the afternoon, and saw nothing of him. In the eveningurgent parish work took me away, but next morning I called again atMason's house and saw him. This time he avoided the subject--tried tododge it, in fact. But I was not to be denied, and the result wasanother scene of alternate agitation and forced calmness. I will notweary you, Mr. Hewitt, with useless repetition, but I may say that Ihave seen Mason twice since then without bringing him to any definiteresolve. As a matter of fact, I believe that he is restrained fromsaying anything further by fear--sheer terror. He has even gone so faras to deny absolutely that he knows anything of the matter--and then hascontradicted himself a minute afterwards. At last, this morning, I havebrought him a degree further. In the last few days I made it my businessto acquaint myself, as far as possible, with the exact circumstances ofthe tragedy, so far as they are known, and in course of my inquiries Isaw the housekeeper of the offices next door--the man who identified thebody as Denson's. He either could not, or would not, tell me very much,but he _did_ say that you had been working in some way in connectionwith the case, and that you knew as much of it as anybody. That gave mean idea. This morning I told Mason that not only he, but I also had aduty in respect to this matter, and my duty was to see that nothing inconnection with such a crime as this should be hushed up on anyconsideration or for anybody's fancies. I said that if he liked he needtell me no more, but might take _you_ into consultation professionally,as your client, allowing me first to see you and to assure you that,consistently with his own safety, he was anxious to further the ends ofjustice. I said that, as your client, your first duty would be toprotect him, that your professional practice would keep your mouthabsolutely sealed, and that you already knew a good deal about thecrime--perhaps more than he suspected. I protested that this seemed tome the very least he could do, and I warned him that if he refused to doeven this, I should have to consider whether it was consistent with mycharacter, as a clergyman and a loyal citizen, any longer to conceal thefact that he was keeping back information that might lead to theapprehension of the murderer. This frightened him, and between the fearof the threat and the fear that you might already know more than hesuspected, he authorised me--he was even eager about it--to come and seeyou; always, of course, under a pledge of strict professional secrecy."
"So far your account is quite clear, Mr. Potswood," Hewitt said. "Youhave done your best, now I must do mine. You wish me to see Mason atonce, no doubt?"
"I arranged to bring you to his house, if you were willing and yourengagements permitted, at three this afternoon. Will that do? I havebeen keeping you, I see--it is past one already. Will you lunch with meat my club?"
"With great pleasure--more especially as I have a few questions to askas we go along. Is it far?"
"Just at this end of Pall Mall--we will walk, if you like."
"Tell me now," said Hewitt as they went, "anything you know about Mr.Mason's habits, family connections, and so forth, as fully and asminutely as you please. Has he any friends connected with China, forinstance?"
"China? Why, no, I think not; except--but I'll tell you all I know. Mr.Mason has no family connections, so far as I am aware--at any rate, inLondon--except his niece, Miss Creswick. She is within a few months oftwenty-one, a charming girl, but horribly shut in, for Mason has almostno visitors. Miss Creswick was his sister's daughter; she lost hermother first and then her father, and was left to the guardianship ofher uncle. He was also trustee under the will, and he has, I believe,discretion to keep charge of her property, if he thinks fit, till shereaches the age of twenty-five; though in case of his death she is toinherit in the ordinary way, on coming of age. She is a very dutifuland, indeed, an affectionate niece; though I must say he is scarcelyfair to her, keeping her, as he does, so completely secluded from thesociety of young people of her own age. Mere thoughtlessness, I think;he has had no children of his own, his mind is wholly occupied with hisscience and his fads, and he makes himself a recluse without a thoughtof the girl. And that brings me to what I was about to say at first,when you asked me if Mr. Mason had any friends connected with China.There is a young doctor--Lawson is his name--some very distantconnection of the family, I think, who had a professional appointment ofsome sort in Shanghai for a year or two, but who is now in London tryingto work up a small practice of his own. If you hadn't mentioned China Ishouldn't have thought of him, since he never goes to the house now--or,at any rate, is supposed not to go."
"Doesn't go to the house? And why is that?"
"Well, there was a disagreement. What it was I don't quite know, but inthe first place it had some connection with some of Mason'sexperiments--something which Lawson declined to help him with forprofessional reasons, or else something he declined to do for Lawson, Idon't know which. But the thing went further, for, as a matter of fact,there was something between the young people--Lawson is onlytwenty-eight--and Mason put an end to that. It had been something like aformal engagement, I think, but in the quarrel--Mason was alwaysquarrelling with somebody when he _had_ friends, and that's why he hasso few now--in the quarrel things were said that ended in a rupture.Whether young Lawson was fortune-hunting or not I cannot say
, but Masoncertainly accused him of it, and promised to keep back the girl's moneyas long as he could. In the meantime Mason declared an end to theengagement, and poor Helen was broken-hearted; for as I have said, sheis an affectionate girl, and she hadn't a friend to confide in. But I'mboring you--you don't want to know all these things, surely?"
"On the contrary, I can't possibly know too much, and the particularscan't possibly be too minute. Nine cases out of ten I bring to an issueby means of a triviality. You were saying a little while back that therewere almost _no_ visitors at Mr. Mason's house; but you said 'almost,'and that means there are some. Who are they?"
"Very occasionally--rarely, in fact--there are one or two members oflearned societies with whom he had been in correspondence, or who areold friends. There is a Professor Hutton and a Dr. Burge, I believe; butthey don't appear once in six months; and there is Mr. Everard Myatt,who is more frequent. He does not profess to be a great man of science,but he is interested in chemistry as an amateur, and is, I fancy, a sortof disciple of Mason's. He has noticed a sad difference in Mason justlately, and he even called on me yesterday, though I hardly knew him bysight, in the hope that I would back up his urgent suggestion thatMason should go off for a change and a rest. Beyond these I don't thinkI know of a single visitor. But here we are at the Megatherium."
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