II
Mr. Jacob Mason's house stood in its own grounds in a quiet suburbanroad. It was not a very large house, but it straggled about comfortablyin the manner of detached houses built in the suburbs at a time whenspace was less valuable than now, and it consisted of two floors only.The front door was not far from the road, and was clearly visible topassengers who might chance to look through either of the two iron gatesthat opened one on each end of the semi-circular drive.
All these things Martin Hewitt noticed as the Rev. Mr. Potswood pushedopen one of these gates, and the two walked up the drive. The front doorstood in a portico, and a French window gave access to the roof of thisportico from a bedroom or dressing-room. As Hewitt and his companionapproached the house the French window was pushed open, and a manappeared--a middle-aged, slightly stoutish man with a short, grey beard;commonplace enough in himself, but now convulsed with noisy anger,shaking his fists and stamping on the portico-roof.
"Get out!" he shouted. "Don't come near my house again, or I'll have youflung out! Go away and take your friends with you! D'you hear? Go away,sir, and don't come here annoying me! Go! Go at once!"
Mr. Potswood absolutely staggered with amazement. "Why," he gasped,"it's Mason! He's mad--clean mad! Why, Mason, my poor friend, don't youknow me?"
"Get out, I say!" cried Mason. "Give me no more of your talk! I won'thave you here!" And now Hewitt caught a glimpse of a girl's face at thewindow behind the man--a pale and handsome face, drawn with anxiety andfear.
Hewitt seized the clergyman quickly by the arm. "Come," he whisperedhurriedly, "come away at once. There is a reason for this. Get away atonce. If you can answer back angrily, do so, but at any rate, comeaway."
He hurried back to the gate, half dragging the astounded rector, who wasall too honest a soul to be able to counterfeit an anger he did notfeel, even if his amazement had not made him speechless. Hewitt closedthe gate behind him and said as he walked, "Where is the rectory? Wewill go there. He may have sent a message while you were out."
Mechanically the rector took the first turning. "But he's mad!" heprotested. "Mad, poor fellow! Merciful heavens, Mr. Hewitt, his wholetale must have been a delusion! A mere madman's fancy! Poor fellow! Wemust go back, Mr. Hewitt--we really must! We can't leave that poor girlthere alone with a raving maniac!"
"No," Hewitt insisted, "come to the rectory. That is no madness, Mr.Potswood. Couldn't you see the colour of the man under the eyes, and theshaking of his beard? That was not anger and it was not madness. It wasterror, Mr. Potswood--sheer, sick terror! Terror, or some emotion verymuch like it."
"But, if terror, why that outburst? What does it mean? If it wereterror, why not rather welcome our company and help?"
"Don't you see, Mr. Potswood?" answered Hewitt. "Don't you guess? _Masonis watched, and he knows it!_ He was acting his anger before unseeneyes--and he knew they were on him!"
"God be merciful to us all," ejaculated the clergyman. "Poor man--poorsinner! What is this unspeakable thing which has him in its clutches?What had he done to give himself over to such a power?"
"We can tell nothing, and guess nothing, as yet," Hewitt answered. "Letus see if he has sent you a message. It seems likely. If he has it mayhelp us. If not--then I think we must do something decisive at once. Butdon't hurry so! It is hard to restrain one's self, I know, but there maybe eyes on us, Mr. Potswood, and we must not seem to be persisting inour errand."
So they went through the quiet streets for the two or three furlongsthat seemed so many miles to the good parson. Arrived at the rectory,Mr. Potswood pushed impatiently through the gate, and was hurryingtoward the house, when he perceived a bent little old man standing amongsome shrubs with his own gardener, who was digging.
"There's Mason's gardener!" the rector exclaimed, and went to meet him.
The old man touched his hat, looked sharply towards Hewitt, who waswaiting near the rectory door, and then disappeared round a corner ofthe house, the rector following. In a few seconds Mr. Potswoodreappeared, with a slip of paper in his hand. "Here," he said, "seethis! The old man was told to give it to nobody but me, and in nobodyelse's presence. He's been waiting since one o'clock."
Scrawled on the paper, in trembling and straggling letters, were thesewords:--
/# "You must not bring Mr. Martin Hewitt to my house this afternoon. I am watched. It is hopeless. Do not desert me. Bring him to-night after dark at eight. I shall want his best skill, and you shall know all. After dark. Come to the back gate in the lane, which will be ajar, and through the conservatory at the side, where my niece will be waiting at eight, after dark. Burn this and do not let it out of your sight first. Send a line by this man to say you will do as I ask, but do not say what it is, for fear of accidents. Send at once. Do come at eight, with Mr. Hewitt."#/
"We must do as he says," remarked Hewitt. "We know nothing of thismatter, and we must be guided till we do. Just write an unsignednote--'All shall be as you request,' or words to that effect, and besure the man gives it to him. Let him out behind through the churchyard,if possible, and tell him not to go straight from one house to theother. Is he an intelligent man?"
"Yes--uncommonly shrewd, I believe. He says he can't have been followed.He knows several gardeners hereabout, and he seems to have called oneach of them on his way--in at the front of the garden and out at theback each time, after a few minutes' conversation. Gipps is rather acunning old fellow."
"Ah," said Hewitt admiringly, "that's the sort of messenger I oftenwant. I'll give him half a crown for himself and the money to pay for atelegram on his way. He knows nothing essential, of course?"
"No--only that his master is in some sort of trouble, and warned himthat he might be followed."
"That is good. I shall telegraph to Detective-Inspector Plummer, ofScotland Yard. All right--I quite understand that all I have heard isconfidential. I shall tell Plummer nothing till I may--indeed, as yetI have very little to tell that would help him. But I think it will bewell to have the police within call--we may want them at a moment'snotice; I have no police powers, you see, and Plummer has the Densoncase in hand. I will ask him to be here, at this house, before a quarterto eight, if you will allow me."
And so the telegram went to Plummer, and Hewitt, accepting the rector'sinvitation to an early dinner before starting on their visit, resignedhimself to wait. He did not like the waste of time, as he frankly toldMr. Potswood. He would have preferred to see Mason at once, at anyrisk, and to take what means he thought necessary without delay. But asit seemed that the risk was to be chiefly Mason's, and as Mason knew allof which both he and the rector were ignorant, Mason must be allowed tochoose his own time.
The excellent Mr. Potswood endured agonies of suspense, though he alsoinsisted that Mason's wishes must be observed exactly. "What is itall--what can it be?" he ejaculated again and again. "What dreadfulinfluence can thus compass a man about, here in London, in these times?"
* * * * *
It was autumn, and night fell early. Dinner was over at last, and theyhad scarcely left the table when Plummer arrived, anxious and eager.
"You'll have to trust me a little, Plummer," Hewitt said, when he hadmade him known to the rector. "I can tell you nothing now--know nothing,in fact, or very little more than nothing. The fact is, I'm going to seea man who promises information to me alone, in confidence, as hisclient, and I don't know how long I may have to keep you in the dark.But this is where the trail lies hot, and I know that's where you wantto be. More, if you're wanted suddenly you'll be at hand. You have a manor two with you, I suppose, as I suggested?"
"Three of the best of them. They will follow us up. Is it far?"
"No, close enough. It is a house in a walled garden--not a high wall. Wego in at a gate from the lane behind, and I think you should wait atthat gate, and put your men at hand. We mustn't go in as a crowd. Therector had better go first, and you and I will follow on the oppositeside of the roa
d."
So the procession was formed, and it was still some three minutes shortof eight o'clock when Hewitt and Plummer joined the clergyman at thedoor in the garden wall behind Mason's house. The door was ajar as hadbeen promised in Mason's note. Leaving Plummer on guard without, MartinHewitt and the rector stepped as silently as possible through the littlekitchen garden and across a strip of lawn toward where a dull lightilluminated the conservatory, at the right-hand end of the house. Thedoor of the conservatory was ajar also, and this the rector pushed open.
"Miss Creswick!" the rector called, in a loud whisper. "Miss Creswick!"And with that a girl appeared within.
"Oh, Mr. Potswood," she said, "I'm so glad you've come! I can't thinkwhat's wrong with poor uncle! I'm afraid he must be going mad! He isterrified at something, and he has been getting worse, till he couldhardly speak or walk. Dr. Lawson has been--about an hour ago, and sincethen uncle has been much quieter, in his study."
They were entering the dimly-lighted drawing-room now. "Dr. Lawson?"queried the rector. "Rather an unusual visitor, isn't he? How long hashe been gone?"
Miss Creswick flushed slightly through all her paleness and grief. "Idon't know," she said. "He let himself out, I fancy. He said he couldnot stay long when he came, but I didn't hear him go; I have beenupstairs, and the servants are in the kitchen--they say uncle's mad, andI'm really afraid he is!"
They left the drawing-room, and walked along the corridor and the hallto the opposite side of the house, where the study lay. Miss Creswicktapped gently at the door, but there was no answer. She tapped again,louder, and then came the faint sound of a quick step on the carpet, andthen a slight scraping noise, as when a door is closed over a carpet itwill scarcely pass. "That's the window into the garden," said MissCreswick. "Why is he going out? Uncle! Uncle Jacob!"
But now the silence was wholly unbroken. Hewitt snatched quickly at thedoor-handle. "Locked!" he said. "Come--the quickest way into thegarden!"
They ran out at the front door, and round toward the study window. Itwas a French window, exactly at the opposite end of the house to theconservatory, and now the gas-light streamed out through one half of it,which stood curtainless and ajar, while the curtain was drawn across theother half. Hewitt was the least familiar with the place, but he wasquickest on his legs, and more seriously alarmed than the others. Hereached the window first--and instantly turned and thrust the rectorback against Miss Creswick. "Quick! take her away," he said; "we are toolate!" and in the same moment, even as Hewitt dashed over the threshold,he snatched a whistle from his pocket, and blew his hardest.
There on the floor lay Mason, his face dreadful and staring and black;tight in his neck was the band of a tourniquet, and fresh and wet on hisforehead was the Red Triangle.
Hewitt snatched at the screw of the tourniquet behind the neck, andloosened it as quickly as hands could turn. But it was too late. Toolate, the examining surgeon afterwards said, by a quarter of an hour.
Plummer was at the window with his men at his heels even before thetourniquet was half unscrewed.
"Round the wall of the garden," shouted Hewitt, "and whistle up thepolice! He's only this moment out!"
The house was alive with shouts and screams. The rector came runningback, and Hewitt, busy with his useless attempt at restoration, callednow for a doctor. People were scampering in the street, and Hewitt leftthe victim to the care of the rector, and himself joined Plummer, all infewer seconds than it may be told in.
But Plummer and his men were beaten, for nothing--not so much as amoving shadow--was seen in the garden or about the walls. Worse, thegeneral trampling would obliterate possible tracks. Plummer set a guardof police about the wall, and came in for consultation with Hewitt.
The body was carried into another room, and Hewitt and Plummer began anexamination of the study.
"No signs of a struggle," commented Plummer, "and there was no noise,they say. That's very odd."
"From what I have seen and heard to-day," said Hewitt, "it is as Ishould have expected. I believe the man was almost killed by terrorbefore he was strangled--dazed, stricken dumb, paralysed, deafened byit--everything but blinded, poor wretch. And to have been blinded wouldhave been a mercy."
And then, as they made their examination systematically, calmly andwithout flurry, Hewitt told the whole tale of his day's adventures,together with all he had heard from the rector. "The man's dead," hesaid, "and his confidence is at an end. Indeed, I never had it--thecase, so far as I am concerned, is over before I have even touched it. Ihaven't had a chance, Plummer; and the thing is deep and dark, deep anddark. Oh, if only the man had let me come to him in the daylight, spiteof all! This might all have been averted.... There has been a closesearch here, too. See how everything is turned over. But, stay!"
A low fire smouldered in the grate, and on it lay ashes of many burntpapers. Hewitt passed the shovel carefully under these ashes, liftedthem out and placed them gently on the table under the light of thegas-pendant.
"I must leave you," said Plummer. "There'll be an inspector here fromthe station in a moment--he won't interfere with you, and if anybody canget information out of this room it's you. The next thing for me isplain. I must make sure of Dr. Lawson, if he can be found."
"That is quite right, without a doubt," Hewitt responded. "I may findanything or nothing in this room, and, meanwhile, he was the lastperson known to have been here, and the only visitor, and he was notheard to go out, unless we heard him go when we were outside the studydoor. More, it was plainly some one familiar with the place who was ableto get away so quickly by the window and the garden."
"And his interest in getting rid of Mason, too--the girl of age ina few months, and all obstacles to getting hold of her, and her money,removed. And--and the surgical tourniquet, the Chinese colour andeverything!"
"Quite right, you must make sure of him, as you say. You will get hisaddress from the rector. Meanwhile I'll try to begin my littlecontribution to the case--to begin it as best I can, after all thechances have made it useless."
The Red Triangle Page 5