III
It was after nine when Plummer returned. The rector had just rejoinedHewitt in the study, having left poor Miss Creswick, utterly brokendown, in her room, in charge of a scarcely less terrified servant.Plummer tapped, and pushed the study door open.
"That's done clean and sure enough," he said, with professionalcalmness. "And he's a cool hand, is that Dr. Lawson. But have you foundanything more? We shall want all we can get."
"We shall," Hewitt assented, "and we shall find more than we've got now,or I'm grievously mistaken. But tell me first what you've done."
He removed the blotting pad, on which the paper ashes still lay, andvery carefully shut it away in a wide drawer where no draught coulddisturb it; he also shut another drawer which stood open.
"We had no difficulty in finding Dr. Lawson," Plummer began. "We methim, in fact, leaving his surgery. I went back with him into thegas-light, and there put it to him plump. Well, he was staggered, badly.Any man would be, of course. But he pulled himself together wonderfullysoon, and the first thing he said was that he was just on his way toMason's house. I thought at first, of course, that he meant to deny thathe had been there already, and I gave him the usual warning about whathe said being used in evidence. But he went on, and I've got it allsafely noted. He admitted that he had been here, at about seven o'clockor just before, and he said he came because Mr. Mason sent for him. Thatdoesn't seem likely, does it, on the facts as we know them?"
"Why, no," said the rector. "The last time he was here he was orderedout, and I know of no reason why he should have been asked to cometo-day. We must ask if anybody was sent."
"I have asked," replied Plummer, "just now, and none of the servants wassent. But Lawson's story is that he _was_ sent for and came, though hesaid he shouldn't say what Mason wanted to see him about till he knewmore of the case. Looks as though he hadn't quite got his story readyyet, doesn't it? He had thought over the point about not being seen togo away, though; he said he had let himself out at about half-pastseven, being familiar with the ways of the house. And he said that Masonwas rather unwell--nervously upset--when he left him, but that wasall."
"It's terrible," said the rector, "terrible. It seems impossible tobelieve it of young Lawson; and yet--and yet!" And then after apause--"Good heavens!" he burst out again. "Why, I only realise it now!There is the other crime, too! Denson! Two murders! Two--and mostcertainly by the same hand! Mr. Plummer, I _can't_ believe it! Oh,there's more behind, more behind, Mr. Hewitt."
"There _is_ more," said Hewitt, "as you will see when I tell you thelittle I have been able to ascertain. There _is_ more behind, though Isee little of it yet. First----"
There was a sharp knock at the front door, followed by a ring, muffledin the distant kitchen. Hewitt started up. "Who is this late visitor atthis unvisited house?" he said. "If it is the police, well enough. Butif anybody else--_anybody_--you may call me Doctor, or anything youplease, except Martin Hewitt. Don't forget that!"
There were hurried steps in the hall, a question or two, and the studydoor was pushed open. Two servants--they would not venture from thekitchen singly this dreadful night--made a confused announcement of "Mr.Myatt," and were instantly pushed aside by Mr. Myatt himself, anxiousand agitated.
The late Mr. Mason's closest scientific friend was a palish,black-bearded man, of above middle height, with stooping shoulders and avery quick pair of eyes. There was something about his face that somehowreminded Hewitt of portraits he had seen of John Knox, and yet it wasnot such a face as his; it seemed oddly unlike in its very likeness.
"What is this dreadful news, Mr. Potswood?" he cried. "I heard peopletalking in the next street on my way home. Is it true? But the servantshave told me so. They say our poor friend--but there has been an arrest,hasn't there?"
The rector nodded gravely.
"And who? Tell me about it, Mr. Potswood--tell me!"
"I think I must see how Miss Creswick is doing," said Hewitt, speakingacross to Plummer and making for the door.
"Certainly, doctor, certainly!" answered Plummer with a nod.
Hewitt closed the door behind him, leaving the rector in the full tideof his account of the day's events; but Hewitt's way took him to thekitchen, where the servants were cowering and whispering together,frightened and bewildered.
"Is there any paint or varnish of any sort in the place?" he askedsharply. "Give me anything there is--black, if possible--and a brush,quickly."
"There's--there's Brunswick black, sir, for the stove," said the cook.
"That will do; be quick. Oh, there's Gipps, the gardener! You're justthe man I want, Gipps. Come and find me a board or a plank, quick as youplease!" And Hewitt pushed the old gardener before him into the gardenby the kitchen door.
* * * * *
A quarter of an hour later, Mr. Everard Myatt, having heard all that wasto be told of his friend's terrible death and the arrest of Mr. Lawson,turned to go, meeting Hewitt at the study door on his way.
"And how is poor Miss Creswick by now, doctor?" he asked anxiously.
Hewitt shook his head. "No better than you could expect," he said, "but,on the whole, no worse. She mustn't be seen to-night, of course, but,perhaps, if you could call round in the morning with the rector----"
"Of course--of course! Poor girl--and Dr. Lawson suspected, too--what aterrible blow for her! Anything I can do, doctor, of course, as I saidto Mr. Potswood--anything I can do I will do as gladly as such sadcircumstances permit."
The rector had been coming to the door with Mr. Myatt, but Plummer,catching a sign from Hewitt, restrained him unseen, and Hewitt and thevisitor walked into the hall together.
"They have put out the light, it seems," Hewitt said. "I wonderwhy--unless people from the crowd have been coming into the garden andstaring in through the glass panels. I wonder if we can find thedoor-handle. Yes, here it is. Dark outside, too! Good-night--mind howyou go on the steps!"
Mr. Myatt checked and stumbled in the dark porch, and reached quicklydownward.
"There's a board standing across the porch," he said.
"A board?" replied Hewitt. "So there is. Let me move it, or it'll upsetsomebody. Good-night!"
Mr. Myatt strode off into the dark night, and Hewitt, noiselesslylifting the board he had himself placed in position, hastened back tothe study.
He swung up the board, all sticky and shiny with Brunswick black, andlaid it across a spread newspaper, on the table. There on the top, inthe midst of the black varnish, were the prints of all five finger-tipsof a hand, where Mr. Myatt had felt for the obstruction in the porch.
Hewitt opened the drawer he had shut a little while back, and tooktherefrom a sheet of writing-paper. And when, with the lens from hispocket, he began to examine that paper in comparison with thefinger-marks on the board, Plummer and the rector could see that therewere also two distinct finger-marks on the paper and one faint one--allred. Plummer came to look.
"What's this?" he said. "Was this what you were going to tell us about?"
Hewitt did not reply for a few moments, but continued his examination.Then he rose and turned to Plummer.
"You've still got that piece of paper in your pocket, I suppose," hesaid, "with the little red smudges of colour put there by the policesurgeon?"
"Yes--here it is," and the detective took it from his waistcoat pocket.
"Thanks," said Hewitt. "Now, see here. That is a little of the red stufftaken from the mark on Denson's forehead a week ago, and found toconsist of vermilion, oil and wax. You have seen the second impressionof that awful mark on the forehead of your poor friend Mason, Mr.Potswood, to-night. This room has been searched for papers before webegan, and papers have been burnt. In the search this drawer wasopened--containing, as you see, nothing but a supply of new headednote-paper. The note-paper was hastily lifted to see if anything elselay beneath, and here, on the bottom sheet, these finger-marks were leftin that same adhesive, freely marking red--a sort of stuff that sticksto a
nd marks whatever it touches. The hand that lifted that paper wasthe hand that impressed that ghastly mark; and the hand that left itsprint on this black varnish was Mr. Everard Myatt's! Now compare thetwo!"
Plummer had snatched the lens, and was narrowly comparing the marks ereHewitt had well finished speaking.
"They are!" he cried, as the rector bent excitedly over him. "They arethe same! See--forefinger and middle finger--the same, every line!"
"I needn't tell you," pursued Hewitt, "certainly I needn't tell Plummer,that that is the most certain and scientific method of identificationknown. The police know that--and use it. But now there is some more. Yousaw me take that charred paper from the fire. Sometimes words may beread on charred paper--it depends on the paper and the ink. Most of thecinders were too much broken to yield any information, though we may tryagain by daylight. But one was suggestive. See it!" Hewitt verycarefully pulled out the flat drawer that held the cinders.
"You see," he went on, "that one--this--is different from the rest. Ithas retained its original form better, and has been less broken, becauseof being of thicker paper. It is a crumpled envelope. Look at theflap--it has never been closed down. Moreover, on that same flap you mayread in embossed letters, still visible, part of the name of this house.Plain inference--this was an envelope intended for a letter never sent,and so crumpled up and dropped into the waste-paper basket. But whyshould such an apparently unimportant thing as that be carefully broughtfrom the waste-paper basket and burnt? Somebody was anxious that thesmallest scrap of paper evidencing a certain correspondence should bedestroyed. But look closely at the front of the envelope--the ink showsa rather lighter grey than the paper. The address is incomplete--at anyrate, no more than some of the first line and a little of the second isat all visible now; but it is plain that the first line begins with anE. The letters immediately following are not distinct, but next there isa capital M beginning a name which is clearly Myatt or Myall. Now,_that_ is why, when Myatt came here, I took the first steps to hand toget an impression of his finger-tips, in order to compare them with themarks on that paper."
"But why," asked the astonished rector, "why did he come back?"
"Nothing but a bold measure to see how things were going--he came as hisown spy, that's all. He's a keen and dangerous man. Don't you remembertelling me how he called on you yesterday, though you hardly knew him bysight, merely to ask you to persuade Mason to take a holiday? It struckme as a little odd at the time. He was pumping you, Mr. Potswood--hewanted to find what Mason had been saying! And he is not alone--plainlyhe is not alone, for poor Mason knew they were watching everywhere. Butcome--this is no time for speculation. Plummer--you must hold himsafely--we'll pick up evidence enough when you've got him. I wouldn'tleave it, Plummer--I'd take him to-night!"
"You're right--right, as usual, Mr. Hewitt," Plummer agreed. "Moreespecially as the rector was--well, a little incautious in talking tohim just now."
"I? What did I say?" Mr. Potswood asked, astonished. "I had nosuspicions--how could I have----"
"No, Mr. Potswood," the detective replied, "you had no suspicions, andfor that very reason, in the excitement of the narrative, you called Mr.Martin Hewitt by his right name at least twice! And after I had calledhim 'doctor,' too!" he added regretfully.
"Is that so?" asked Hewitt.
The poor rector was sadly abashed. "But I really wasn't aware of it, Mr.Hewitt!" he protested. "I hardly think I could--but, there, perhaps Idid! Of course, if Inspector Plummer remembers it----"
"He'll be off!" exclaimed Hewitt. "With that hint, and finding the blackstuff on his hands, he'll smell a rat instantly! Come, Mr. Potswood--youcan show us the nearest way to his house, at any rate! Come--we may gethim yet!"
* * * * *
But the good rector's slip of the tongue was fatal, and Myatt was notyet to meet the fate that fitted him. The house was not far--less than amile away. It was a detached house, but quite a small one--smaller thanMason's. Plummer blocked every exit with a man, but his caution waswasted. Myatt was gone.
There was the house and the furniture and two servants, just as it mighthave been any day in the year when Myatt was out for an hour. But nowhe was out for good. The police watched and waited all night, and allthe next day; they waited and watched for a week, and the house wasunder observation after that, but Myatt never returned. He had made hisplans, it was plain, for just such a flight, whenever the necessitymight arise; and when he was assured that danger threatened, he simplyvanished in the dark of a London night. Search brought noinformation--not a scrap of telltale paper lay in Calton Lodge--not aletter, not a line. Though, indeed, the police were to see more ofMyatt's work yet--and so was Hewitt.
Dr. Lawson's detention did not last the night out. The unhappy Mason hadindeed sent to him, by a chance messenger, having grown desperate inlong waiting for the return of Gipps from the rectory. Mason was readyto call in any aid, to recall any of the friendships he had sacrificedin the past. But Lawson was long in coming, having received the noteafter a long professional round, and when at last he arrived, Mason wasa little reassured by the promise of Hewitt's visit. Therefore, he didnot tell the doctor so much as he might have done. Nevertheless, hetalked wildly and vaguely, so that Dr. Lawson feared some disturbance ofhis reason. The doctor quieted and soothed him, however, and when heleft he promised to return after his consultation hour at the surgerywas over. He must have been watched away from the house, and then theblow fell that sealed for ever the lips of Jacob Mason.
Poor Miss Creswick was taken from the old house in which she could nolonger remain, and for a few months she stayed at the rectory, tendedlovingly by the rector's excellent wife--stayed there, in fact, till herwedding-day, which took place early the next year; so that for her andDr. Lawson the tragedy ended in happiness, after all.
* * * * *
"God forgive me," cried the rector in the grey of the morning, whenit became clear that Myatt had escaped--"God forgive me! Through mystupidity a horrible creature has been set loose in the world to workhis diabolical will afresh!"
"Never mind," said Hewitt. "It was not stupidity, Mr. Potswood--nothingbut your openness of character. You were not trained to the cunning thatwe must use in my profession. And there will be more than Myatt totake--he was not alone! It is plain that Mason was found to be waveringin whatever horrible allegiance he had bound himself, and he waswatched. No, Myatt was not alone!"
"No, I fear not," replied the clergyman. "I fear not: there is horriblemystery still. The watching and besetting that terrified him so much;the fact that he seems to have yielded up his life without astruggle--and that with help so near; and the connection--what could ithave been?--between Mason and the other victim--Denson. That is a deepmystery indeed! And that horrible sign! Mr. Hewitt, you have donemuch--but not all!"
"No," replied Martin Hewitt, "not nearly all. It is even doubtfulwhether or not it will be my lot to come across the thing again; but itwill be in the hands of the police. And, after all, we have achievedsomething. For we know that if Myatt can be captured we shall be at theheart of the mystery."
THE CASE OF THE LEVER KEY
The Red Triangle Page 6