The Paradise Mystery

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER XV. THE DOUBLE OFFER

  Bryce, who was deriving a considerable and peculiar pleasure from hissecret interview with the old detective, smiled at Harker's last remark.

  "That's a bit of a platitude, isn't it?" he suggested. "Of course weshall know a lot more--when we do know a lot more!"

  "I set store by platitudes, sir," retorted Harker. "You can't repeat anestablished platitude too often--it's got the hallmark of good use onit. But now, till we do know more--you've no doubt been thinking a lotabout this matter, Dr. Bryce--hasn't it struck you that there's onefeature in connection with Brake, or Braden's visit to Wrychester towhich nobody's given any particular attention up to now--so far as weknow, at any rate?"

  "What?" demanded Bryce.

  "This," replied Harker. "Why did he wish to see the Duke of Saxonsteade?He certainly did want to see him--and as soon as possible. You'llremember that his Grace was questioned about that at the inquest andcould give no explanation--he knew nothing of Brake, and couldn'tsuggest any reason why Brake should wish to have an interview with him.But--I can!"

  "You?" exclaimed Bryce.

  "I," answered Harker. "And it's this--I spoke just now of that manGlassdale. Now you, of course; have no knowledge of him, and as youdon't keep yourself posted in criminal history, you don't know what hisoffence was?"

  "You said--forgery?" replied Bryce.

  "Just so--forgery," assented Harker. "And the signature that he forgedwas--the Duke of Saxonsteade's! As a matter of fact, he was the Duke'sLondon estate agent. He got wrong, somehow, and he forged the Duke'sname to a cheque. Now, then, considering who Glassdale is, and that hewas certainly a fellow-convict of Brake's, and that I myself saw himhere in Wrychester on the day of Brake's death--what's the conclusionto be drawn? That Brake wanted to see the Duke on some business ofGlassdale's! Without a doubt! It may have been that he and Glassdalewanted to visit the Duke, together."

  Bryce silently considered this suggestion for awhile.

  "You said, just now, that Glassdale could be traced?" he remarked atlast.

  "Traced--yes," replied Harker. "So long as he's in England."

  "Why not set about it?" suggested Bryce.

  "Not yet," said Harker. "There's things to do before that. And the firstthing is--let's get to know what the mystery of that scrap of paper is.You say you've found Richard Jenkins's tomb? Very well--then the thingto do is to find out if anything is hidden there. Try it tomorrow night.Better go by yourself--after dark. If you find anything, let me know.And then--then we can decide on a next step. But between now and then,there'll be the inquest on this man Collishaw. And, about that--a wordin your ear! Say as little as ever you can!--after all, you know nothingbeyond what you saw. And--we mustn't meet and talk in public--afteryou've done that bit of exploring in Paradise tomorrow night, come roundhere and we'll consider matters."

  There was little that Bryce could say or could be asked to say atthe inquest on the mason's labourer next morning. Public interest andexcitement was as keen about Collishaw's mysterious death as aboutBraden's, for it was already rumoured through the town that if Bradenhad not met with his death when he came to Wrychester, Collishaw wouldstill be alive. The Coroner's court was once more packed; once morethere was the same atmosphere of mystery. But the proceedings were of avery different nature to those which had attended the inquest onBraden. The foreman under whose orders Collishaw had been working gaveparticulars of the dead man's work on the morning of his death. Hehad been instructed to clear away an accumulation of rubbish which hadgathered at the foot of the south wall of the nave in consequence ofsome recent repairs to the masonry--there was a full day's work beforehim. All day he would be in and out of Paradise with his barrow,wheeling away the rubbish he gathered up. The foreman had looked in onhim once or twice; he had seen him just before noon, when he appeared tobe in his usual health--he had made no complaint, at any rate. Asked ifhe had happened to notice where Collishaw had set down his dinner basketand his tin bottle while he worked, he replied that it so happened thathe had--he remembered seeing both bottle and basket and the man's jacketdeposited on one of the box-tombs under a certain yew-tree--which hecould point out, if necessary.

  Bryce's account of his finding of Collishaw amounted to no more than abare recital of facts. Nor was much time spent in questioning the twodoctors who had conducted the post-mortem examination. Their evidence,terse and particular, referred solely to the cause of death. The man hadbeen poisoned by a dose of hydrocyanic acid, which, in their opinion,had been taken only a few minutes before his body was discovered byDr. Bryce. It had probably been a dose which would cause instantaneousdeath. There were no traces of the poison in the remains of his dinner,nor in the liquid in his tin bottle, which was old tea. But of thecause of his sudden death there was no more doubt than of the effects.Ransford had been in the court from the outset of the proceedings, andwhen the medical evidence had been given he was called. Bryce, watchinghim narrowly, saw that he was suffering from repressed excitement--andthat that excitement was as much due to anger as to anything else. Hisface was set and stern, and he looked at the Coroner with an expressionwhich portended something not precisely clear at that moment. Bryce,trying to analyse it, said to himself that he shouldn't be surprisedif a scene followed--Ransford looked like a man who is bursting tosay something in no unmistakable fashion. But at first he answered thequestions put to him calmly and decisively.

  "When this man's clothing was searched," observed the Coroner, "a boxof pills was found, Dr. Ransford, on which your writing appears. Had youbeen attending him--professionally?"

  "Yes," replied Ransford. "Both Collishaw and his wife. Or, rather, tobe exact, I had been in attendance on the wife, for some weeks. A dayor two before his death, Collishaw complained to me of indigestion,following on his meals. I gave him some digestive pills--the pills youspeak of, no doubt."

  "These?" asked the Coroner, passing over the box which Mitchington hadfound.

  "Precisely!" agreed Ransford. "That, at any rate, is the box, and Isuppose those to be the pills."

  "You made them up yourself?" inquired the Coroner.

  "I did--I dispense all my own medicines."

  "Is it possible that the poison we have beard of, just now, could getinto one of those pills--by accident?"

  "Utterly impossible!--under my hands, at any rate," answered Ransford.

  "Still, I suppose, it could have been administered in a pill?" suggestedthe Coroner.

  "It might," agreed Ransford. "But," he added, with a significantglance at the medical men who had just given evidence. "It was not soadministered in this case, as the previous witnesses very well know!"

  The Coroner looked round him, and waited a moment.

  "You are at liberty to explain--that last remark," he said at last."That is--if you wish to do so." "Certainly!" answered Ransford, withalacrity. "Those pills are, as you will observe, coated, and the manwould swallow them whole--immediately after his food. Now, it wouldtake some little time for a pill to dissolve, to disintegrate, to bedigested. If Collishaw took one of my pills as soon as he had eaten hisdinner, according to instructions, and if poison had been in thatpill, he would not have died at once--as he evidently did. Deathwould probably have been delayed some little time until the pill haddissolved. But, according to the evidence you have had before you, hedied quite suddenly while eating his dinner--or immediately after it.I am not legally represented here--I don't consider it at allnecessary--but I ask you to recall Dr. Coates and to put this questionto him: Did he find one of those digestive pills in this man's stomach?"

  The Coroner turned, somewhat dubiously, to the two doctors who hadperformed the autopsy. But before he could speak, the superintendentof police rose and began to whisper to him, and after a conversationbetween them, he looked round at the jury, every member of which hadevidently been much struck by Ransford's suggestion.

  "At this stage," he said, "it will be necessary to adjourn. I shalladjourn the inquiry for a week, gent
lemen. You will--" Ransford, stillstanding in the witness-box, suddenly lost control of himself. Heuttered a sharp exclamation and smote the ledge before him smartly withhis open hand.

  "I protest against that!" he said vehemently. "Emphatically, I protest!You first of all make a suggestion which tells against me--then, when Idemand that a question shall be put which is of immense importance to myinterests, you close down the inquiry--even if only for the moment. Thatis grossly unfair and unjust!"

  "You are mistaken," said the Coroner. "At the adjourned inquiry, the twomedical men can be recalled, and you will have the opportunity--or yoursolicitor will have--of asking any questions you like for the present--"

  "For the present you have me under suspicion!" interrupted Ransfordhotly. "You know it--I say this with due respect to your office--aswell as I do. Suspicion is rife in the city against me. Rumour is beingspread--secretly--and, I am certain--from the police, who ought to knowbetter. And--I will not be silenced, Mr. Coroner!--I take this publicopportunity, as I am on oath, of saying that I know nothing whateverof the causes of the deaths of either Collishaw or of Braden--upon mysolemn oath!"

  "The inquest is adjourned to this day week," said the Coroner quietly.

  Ransford suddenly stepped down from the witness-box and without word orglance at any one there, walked with set face and determined look outof the court, and the excited spectators, gathering into groups,immediately began to discuss his vigorous outburst and to take sides forand against him.

  Bryce, judging it advisable to keep away from Mitchington just then,and, for similar reasons, keeping away from Harker also, went out of thecrowded building alone--to be joined in the street outside by SackvilleBonham, whom he had noticed in court, in company with his stepfather,Mr. Folliot.

  Folliot, Bryce had observed, had stopped behind, exchanging someconversation with the Coroner. Sackville came up to Bryce with a knowingshake of the hand. He was one of those very young men who have a habitof suggesting that their fund of knowledge is extensive and peculiar,and Bryce waited for a manifestation.

  "Queer business, all that, Bryce!" observed Sackville confidentially."Of course, Ransford is a perfect ass!"

  "Think so?" remarked Bryce, with an inflection which suggestedthat Sackville's opinion on anything was as valuable as theAttorney-General's. "That's how it strikes you, is it?"

  "Impossible that it could strike one in any other way, you know,"answered Sackville with fine and lofty superiority. "Ransford shouldhave taken immediate steps to clear himself of any suspicion. It'sridiculous, considering his position--guardian to--to Miss Bewery, forinstance--that he should allow such rumours to circulate. By God, sir,if it had been me, I'd have stopped 'em!--before they left the parishpump!"

  "Ah?" said Bryce. "And--how?"

  "Made an example of somebody," replied Sackville, with emphasis. "Ibelieve there's law in this country, isn't there?--law against libel andslander, and that sort of thing, eh? Oh, yes!"

  "Not been much time for that--yet," remarked Bryce.

  "Piles of time," retorted Sackville, swinging his stick vigorously. "No,sir, Ransford is an ass! However, if a man won't do things for himself,well, his friends must do something for him. Ransford, of course,must be pulled--dragged!--out of this infernal hole. Of course he'ssuspected! But my stepfather--he's going to take a hand. And mystepfather, Bryce, is a devilish cute old hand at a game of this sort!"

  "Nobody doubts Mr. Folliot's abilities, I'm sure," said Bryce. "But--youdon't mind saying--how is he going to take a hand?"

  "Stir things towards a clearing-up," announced Sackville promptly. "Havethe whole thing gone into--thoroughly. There are matters that haven'tbeen touched on, yet. You'll see, my boy!"

  "Glad to hear it," said Bryce. "But--why should Mr. Folliot be soparticular about clearing Ransford?"

  Sackville swung his stick, and pulled up his collar, and jerked his nosea trifle higher.

  "Oh, well," he said. "Of course, it's--it's a pretty well understoodthing, don't you know--between myself and Miss Bewery, you know--and ofcourse, we couldn't have any suspicions attaching to her guardian, couldwe, now? Family interest, don't you know--Caesar's wife, and all thatsort of thing, eh?"

  "I see," answered Bryce, quietly,--"sort of family arrangement. WithRansford's consent and knowledge, of course?"

  "Ransford won't even be consulted," said Sackville, airily. "Mystepfather--sharp man, that, Bryce!--he'll do things in his own fashion.You look out for sudden revelations!"

  "I will," replied Bryce. "By-bye!"

  He turned off to his rooms, wondering how much of truth there was in thefatuous Sackville's remarks. And--was there some mystery still undreamtof by himself and Harker? There might be--he was still under theinfluence of Ransford's indignant and dramatic assertion of hisinnocence. Would Ransford have allowed himself an outburst of that sortif he had not been, as he said, utterly ignorant of the immediate causeof Braden's death? Now Bryce, all through, was calculating, for hisown purposes, on Ransford's share, full or partial, in that death--ifRansford really knew nothing whatever about it, where did his, Bryce'stheory, come in--and how would his present machinations result? And,more--if Ransford's assertion were true, and if Varner's story of thehand, seen for an instant in the archway, were also true--and Varner waspersisting in it--then, who was the man who flung Braden to his deaththat morning? He realized that, instead of straightening out, thingswere becoming more and more complicated.

  But he realized something else. On the surface, there was a strong caseof suspicion against Ransford. It had been suggested that very morningbefore a coroner and his jury; it would grow; the police were alreadypermeated with suspicion and distrust. Would it not pay him, Bryce, toencourage, to help it? He had his own score to pay off against Ransford;he had his own schemes as regards Mary Bewery. Anyway, he was not goingto share in any attempts to clear the man who had bundled him out of hishouse unceremoniously--he would bide his time. And in the meantime therewere other things to be done--one of them that very night.

  But before Bryce could engage in his secret task of excavating a smallportion of Paradise in the rear of Richard Jenkins's tomb, anotherstrange development came. As the dark fell over the old city that nightand he was thinking of setting out on his mission, Mitchington camein, carrying two sheets of paper, obviously damp from the press, in hishand. He looked at Bryce with an expression of wonder.

  "Here's a queer go!" he said. "I can't make this out at all! Look atthese big handbills--but perhaps you've seen 'em? They're being postedall over the city--we've had a bundle of 'em thrown in on us."

  "I haven't been out since lunch," remarked Bryce. "What are they?"

  Mitchington spread out the two papers on the table, pointing from one tothe other.

  "You see?" he said. "Five Hundred Pounds Reward!--One Thousand PoundsReward! And--both out at the same time, from different sources!"

  "What sources?" asked Bryce, bending over the bills. "Ah--I see. Onesigned by Phipps & Maynard, the other by Beachcroft. Odd, certainly!"

  "Odd?" exclaimed Mitchington. "I should think so! But, do you see,doctor? that one--five hundred reward--is offered for information of anynature relative to the deaths of John Braden and James Collishaw, bothor either. That amount will be paid for satisfactory information byPhipps & Maynard. And Phipps & Maynard are Ransford's solicitors! Thatbill, sir, comes from him! And now the other, the thousand pound one,that offers the reward to any one who can give definite information asto the circumstances attending the death of John Braden--to be paid byMr. Beachcroft. And he's Mr. Folliot's solicitor! So--that comes fromMr. Folliot. What has he to do with it? And are these two putting theirheads together--or are these bills quite independent of each other? Hangme if I understand it!"

  Bryce read and re-read the contents of the two bills. And then hethought for awhile before speaking.

  "Well," he said at last, "there's probably this in it--the Folliots arevery wealthy people. Mrs. Folliot, it's pretty well known, wants her sont
o marry Miss Bewery--Dr. Ransford's ward. Probably she doesn't wishany suspicion to hang over the family. That's all I can suggest. Inthe other case, Ransford wants to clear himself. For don't forget this,Mitchington!--somewhere, somebody may know something! Only something.But that something might clear Ransford of the suspicion that'sundoubtedly been cast upon him. If you're thinking to get a strong caseagainst Ransford, you've got your work set. He gave your theory a nastyknock this morning by his few words about that pill. Did Coates andEverest find a pill, now?"

  "Not at liberty to say, sir," answered Mitchington. "At present, anyway.Um! I dislike these private offers of reward--it means that those whomake 'em get hold of information which is kept back from us, d'you see!They're inconvenient."

  Then he went away, and Bryce, after waiting awhile, until night hadsettled down, slipped quietly out of the house and set off for the gloomof Paradise.