CHAPTER XXXIII
"There, Mr. Cleek," resumed the Captain, after he could master hisemotion. "That is the case--that is the riddle I am praying to Heaventhat you may be able to solve. What the mysterious power is, when,where, or how it got into the room and got at the boy, God alone knows.Mr. Harmstead will swear that he never let the little fellow out of hisarms for one solitary instant between the time of our leaving him justafter midnight, and Miss Comstock's coming in in the morning. He admits,however, that twice during that period he fell asleep, but it was onlyfor a few minutes each time; and long years of being constantly alertfor possible marauders--out there in the wilds of Australia--have tendedto make his sleep so light that anything heavier than a cat's footfallwakes him on the instant. Yet last night something--man or spirit--cameand went, and he neither heard nor saw either sound or shape frommidnight until morning. One thing I must tell you, however, which maythrow some light upon the movements of the appalling thing. Whereas Mr.Harmstead not only closed, but locked, both of the two windows in theroom, and pinned the thick plushette curtains of them together--as MissComstock and I saw them pinned when we left the room last night--whenthose curtains came to be drawn this morning one of the windows wasfound to be partly open, and there was a smear of something that lookedlike grease across the sill and the stone coping beyond."
"Of course, of course!" commented Cleek enigmatically. "Provided mytheory is correct, I should have expected that. A thing that comes andgoes through windows must, at some period, leave some mark of itspassage. Of course that particular window opened upon a balcony orsomething of that sort, didn't it?"
"No, it is a perfectly unbroken descent from the window sill to theground. But there's a big tree close by, and the branches of that brushthe pane of glass."
"Ah! I see! I see! All the soap dishes in the house left filled lastnight and found filled this morning, captain?"
"Good heavens! I don't know. What on earth can soap dishes have to dowith it, man?"
"Possibly nothing, probably a great deal--particularly if there's foundto be a cake of soap in each. But that we can discover later. Now oneword more. Was that same minute swelling--the mark like a gnat'sbite--on the neck of the boy's body, too? And had it been on that of themother's as well?"
"I can't answer either question, Mr. Cleek. I don't remember to haveheard about it being remarked in the case of Mrs. Comstock's death; andthe murder of little Paul was such a horrible thing and so upseteverybody that none of us thought to look."
"An error of judgment that; however, it is one easily rectified, sincethe body is not yet interred," said Cleek. "Ever read Harvey's'Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Sanguinis,' Captain?--the volume in whichWilliam Harvey first gave to the world at large his discovery regardingthe circulation of the blood."
"Good heavens, no! What would I be doing reading matters of that kind?I'm not a medico, Mr. Cleek--I'm a soldier."
"I know. But, still--well, I thought it just possible that you mighthave read the work, or, at least, heard something regarding the contentsof the volume. Men who have a hobby are rather given to riding it andboring other people with discussions and dissertations upon it; and Iseem to think that I have heard it said that Sir Gilbert Morford'sgreatest desire in the time of his youth was to become a medical man. Infact, that he put in two or three years as a student at St.Bartholomew's, and would have qualified, but that the sudden death ofhis father compelled him to abandon the hope and to assume theresponsibilities of the head of the house of Morford & Morford, teaimporters, of Mincing Lane."
"Yes; that's quite correct. He bitterly resented the compulsion--the'pitchforking of a man out of a profession into the abomination oftrade,' as he always expresses it--but of course, he was obliged toyield, and the 'dream of his life' dropped off into nothing but a dream.But the old love and the old recollection still linger, and, although heno longer personally follows either trade or profession, he keeps up hislaboratory work, subscribes to every medical journal in Christendom, andif you want to tickle his vanity or to get on the right side of him allyou have to do is to address him as 'doctor.' With all due respect tohim, he's a bit of a prig, Mr. Cleek, and hates people of noposition--'people of the lower order,' as he always terms them--as thegentleman down under is said to hate holy water."
"So that he, naturally, would move heaven and earth to prevent hisgrandson and heir from marrying a young woman of that class? I see!"supplemented Cleek. "The dear gentleman would like the name of Morfordto go down to posterity linked to duchesses or earls' daughters, andsurrounded by a blaze of glory. Ah, it's a queer world, Captain. Thereis no bitterer hater of the 'common herd' than the snob who has climbedup from it! The snob and the sneak are closely allied, Captain, and menof that stamp have been known to do some pretty ugly things to upholdtheir pinchbeck dignity, and to keep the tinsel of the present over thecheap gingerbread of the past."
"Good God, man! You don't surely mean to suggest--"
"Gently, gently, Captain. Your indignation does you credit; but it isnever well to have a shot at a rabbit before he's fairly out of thehole, and you are sure that it isn't the ferret you sent in after him.Anything in the way of a conveyance handy, Mr. Narkom?"
"Yes--the limousine. I came down in it yesterday. It's over at the Roseand Crown."
"Good! Then perhaps Captain Morford will meet us there in a half hour'stime. Meanwhile, I've got a few things to throw into my kit-bag, and asthat's over at the Three Desires, perhaps you won't mind coming alongand giving me a hand. Then we'll run over to that house at Dalehamptonand have a look at the body of that poor little shaver as expeditiouslyas possible. Will you come?"
"Yes, certainly," said Narkom; and having given a few necessarydirections to the Captain walked on and followed Cleek. He knew verywell the suggestion that he should do so was merely an excuse to have afew words with him in private--for no man would be likely to needanother man's assistance in simply putting a few things into a bag--andhe was rather puzzled to account for Cleek's desire to say anything tohim which the Captain was not to hear. However, he kept his curiosity incheck and his tongue behind his teeth until they were on the other sideof the lich-gate and in the road leading to the Three Desires.
"There's something you want to say to me, isn't there?" he inquired."Something you want attended to on the quiet?"
"Yes," admitted Cleek, tersely. "There's a public telephone station amile or two on the other side of this place--I saw it this morning whenI was out tramping. Slip off down there, ring up the head of theDalehampton Constabulary, and tell him to have a man at the house readyto pop up when wanted. I'll be long enough over my supposed 'packing' tocover the time of your going and returning without the Captain'sknowledge."
"Without--Good Heaven! My dear Cleek, you were serious, then? You meantit? You--you really believe that suspicion points to Sir GilbertMorford?"
"Not any more than it points to Sir Gilbert Morford's grandson, Mr.Narkom."
"Good Lord! To him? To that boy? Why, man alive, what possible motivecould he have for bringing grief and anguish to Miss Comstock when he'swilling to give up a fortune to marry her?"
"Ah, but don't forget that another fortune descends to all the heirs,male and female alike, of the late Mrs. Comstock, Mr. Narkom, and thatif the Captain's fiancee becomes, in course of time, the only survivingchild of that unfortunate lady, the Captain's sacrifice will not be suchan overpowering hardship for him, after all."
"Great Scott! I never thought of that before, Cleek--never."
"Didn't you? Well, don't think too much of it now that you have. Forcircumstantial evidence is tricky and treacherous, and he mayn't be theman, after all!"
"Mayn't be? What a beggar you are for damping a man's ardour afteryou've fanned it up to the blazing point. Any light in the darkness, oldchap? Any idea of what--and how?"
"Yes," said Cleek, quietly. "If there's a mark on that poor littleshaver's neck, Mr. Narkom, I shall know the means. And if there's soapon the window sill I shall
know the man!" And then, having reached thedoorway of the inn, he dived into it and went up the staircase two stepsat a time.
Cleek: the Man of the Forty Faces Page 36