Unravelled Knots

by Baroness Orczy

  “This,” the Man in the Corner continued, “was the gist of Mrs. Triscott’s evidence at that memorable inquest. Of course, there were some dramatic incidents during the course of her examination; glances exchanged between Philip Ashley and Mr. Oldwall, and between him and the dapper little Mr. Triscott. The latter, I must tell you, still beamed at everybody; he looked inordinately proud of his capable businesslike wife, and very pleased with the prominence which he had attained through this mysterious and intricate case.”

  IV

  “The luncheon interval gave us all a respite from tension that had kept our nerves strung up all morning. I don’t think that Philip Ashley, for one, ate much lunch that day. I noticed, by the way, that he and Mr. Oldwall went off together, whilst Mr and Mrs. Triscott took kindly charge of poor Charles. I caught sight of the three of them subsequently in a blameless teashop. Charles was indeed a pathetic picture to look upon; he looked the sort of man who lives on his nerves, with no flesh on his poor misshapen bones, and a hungry craving expression in his eyes, as in those of an under-fed dog.

  “We had his evidence directly after luncheon. But, as a matter of fact, he had not much to say. He had last seen his father alive on the Saturday morning when he went off on his fortnightly weekend holiday. He had cycled to Dorking and spent his time there at the ‘Running Footman,’ as he had often done before. He was well known in the place. On Monday morning he made an early start and got to Malvine Mansions soon after ten and let himself into the flat with his latch-key. He expected to find his brother or Mrs. Triscott there, but there was no one. He then went into his father’s room, and, at first, thought that the old man was only asleep. The blinds were down and the room very dark.

  “He drew up the blind and went back to his father’s bedside. Then only did he realise that the old man was dead. Though he was very ignorant in such matters, he thought that there was something strange about the dead man, and he tried to explain this to Dr. Jutt. But the latter seemed too busy to attend to him, so when Mr. Triscott came to call later on, he told him of this strange feeling that troubled him. Mr. Triscott then thought that as Dr. Jutt seemed so indifferent about the matter, it might be best to see the police.

  “‘But this,’ Charles Ashley explained, ‘I refused to do, and then Mr. Triscott asked me if I knew whether my dear father had any life insurances, and, if so, in what company. I was able to satisfy him on that point, as I had heard him speak to Mr. Oldwall about a life policy he had in the Empire of India Life Insurance Company. Mr. Triscott then told me to leave the matter to him, which I was only too glad to do.’

  “Witness was asked if he knew anything of his father’s intentions with regard to altering his will, and to this he gave an emphatic ‘No!’ He explained that he had taken a note from his father to Mr. Triscott on the Friday and that he had seen Mr. Triscott when the latter called at the flat that afternoon, but when the coroner asked him whether he knew what passed between his father and the lawyer on that occasion, he again gave an emphatic ‘No!’

  “He had accepted gratefully Mr. Triscott’s suggestion that Mrs. Triscott should come over for the weekend to take charge of the invalid, but he declared that this arrangement was in no way a reflection upon his brother. On the whole then, Charles Ashley made a favourable impression upon the public and jury for his clear and straightforward evidence. The only time when he hesitated—and did so very obviously—was when the coroner asked him whether he knew of any recent disagreement between his father and his brother Philip, a disagreement which might have led to Mr. Thornton Ashley’s decision to alter his will. Charles Ashley did hesitate at this point and, though he was hard-pressed by the coroner, he only gave ambiguous replies, and when he had completed his evidence he left one under the impression that he might have said something if he could, and that but for his many afflictions the coroner would probably have pressed him much harder.

  “This impression was confirmed by the evidence of the next witness, a Mrs. Trapp, who had been the daily char at Malvine Mansions. She began by explaining to the coroner that she had done the work at the flat for the past two years. At first she used to come every morning for a couple of hours, with the exception of Sundays, but for the last two months or so she came on the Sundays, but stayed away on the Monday; on Wednesdays she stayed the whole day, until about six, as Mr. Charles always did a lot of shopping those afternoons.

  “Asked whether she remembered what happened at the flat on the Wednesday preceding Mr. Thornton Ashley’s death she said that she did remember quite well. Mr. Philip Ashley called; he did do that sometimes on a Wednesday when his brother was out. He stayed about an hour and, in Mrs. Trapp’s picturesque language, he and his father ‘carried on awful!’

  “‘I couldn’t ’ear what they said,’ Mrs. Trapp explained with eager volubility, ‘but I could ’ear the ole gentleman screaming. I ’ad ’eard ’im storm like that at Mr. Philip once before—about a month ago. But Lor’ bless you, Mr. Philip ’e didn’t seem to care, and on Wednesday when I let ’im out of the flat ’e just looked quite cheerful like. But the ole gentleman ’e was angry. I ’ad to give ’im a nip o’ brandy, ’e was sort o’ shaken after Mr. Philip went.’

  “You see then, don’t you?” the Man in the Corner said with a grim chuckle, “how gradually a network of sinister evidence was being woven around Philip Ashley. He himself was conscious of it, and he was conscious also of the wave of hostility that was rising up against him. He looked now, not only grave, but decidedly anxious, and he held his arms tightly crossed over his chest, as if in the act of making a physical effort to keep his nerves under control.

  “He gave me the impression of a man who would hate any kind of publicity, and the curious, eager looks that were cast upon him, especially by the women, must have been positive torture to a sensitive man. However, he looked a handsome and manly figure as he stood up to answer the questions put to him by the coroner. He said that he had arrived at the flat on the Saturday at about midday, explaining to the jury that he always came once a fortnight to be with his father, whilst his brother Charles enjoyed a couple of days in the country. On this occasion, however, he was told that his father was too ill to see him. Charles, however, went off on his bicycle as usual, but contrary to precedent a lady had apparently been left in charge of the invalid. Witness understood that this was Mrs. Triscott, the wife of a neighbour, who had kindly volunteered to stay over the weekend. She was an experienced nurse and would know what to do in case the patient required anything. For the moment he was asleep and must not be disturbed.

  “‘I naturally felt very vexed,’ the witness continued, ‘at being kept out of my father’s room, and I may have spoken rather sharply at the moment, but I flatly deny that I was rude to Mrs. Triscott, or that I was in a violent rage. I did get a glimpse of my father as he lay in bed, and I must say that I did not think that he looked any worse than he had been all along. However, I was not going to argue the point. I preferred to wait until the Monday morning when my brother would be home, and I could tackle him on the subject.’

  “At this point the coroner desired to know why, in that case, when the witness was told that his brother would not be at the flat before ten o’clock, he turned up there as early as half-past eight.

  “‘Because,’ the witness replied, ‘I was naturally rather anxious to know how things were, and because I hoped to get a day on the river with a friend, and to make an early start if possible. However, when I got to the flat, Mrs. Triscott wanted to get away, and so I agreed to stay there and wait until ten o’clock, when, so Mrs. Triscott assured me, my brother would certainly be home. As a matter of fact he always used to get home at that hour with clockwork regularity on the Monday mornings after his holiday.

  “‘My father was asleep and Mrs. Triscott left me instructions what to do in case he required anything. At half-past nine he woke. I heard him stirring and I went into his room and gave him some barley-water and sat with him for a little while. He seemed quite
cheerful and good-tempered and, honestly, I did not think that he was any worse than he had been for weeks. Just before ten o’clock he dropped off to sleep again. I knew that my brother would be in within the next half-hour and, as this would not be the first time that my father was left alone in the flat, I did not think that I should be doing anything wrong by leaving him. I went back to my chambers and was busy making arrangements for the day when I had a telephone message from my brother that our father was dead.’

  “Questioned by the coroner as to the disagreement which he had had with his father on the previous Wednesday, Mr. Philip Ashley indignantly repudiated the idea that there was any quarrel.

  “‘My father,’ he said, ‘had a very violent temper and a very harsh, penetrating voice. He certainly did get periodically angry with me whenever I explained to him that my marriage to Lady Peet-Jackson could not, in all decency, take place for at least another six months. He would storm and shriek for a little while,’ the witness went on, ‘but we invariably parted the best of friends.’”

  The Man in the Corner paused for a little while, leaving me both interested and puzzled. I was trying to piece together what I remembered of the case with what he had just told me, and I was longing to hear his explanation of the events which followed that memorable inquest. After a little while the funny creature resumed:

  “I told you,” he said, “that a wave of hostility had risen in the public mind against Philip Ashley. It came from a sense of sympathy for the other son, who, deformed and afflicted, had been done out of a fortune. True, that it would not have been of much use to him, and that in the original will ample provision had been made for his modest wants, but it now seemed as if, at the eleventh hour, the old miser had thought to make reparation toward the son who had given up his whole life to him, whilst the other had led one of leisure, independence and gaiety. What had caused old Thornton Ashley thus to change his mind was never conclusively proved; there were some rumours already current that Philip Ashley was in debt and had appealed to his father for money, a fatal thing to do with a miser. But this also was never actually proved. The only persons who could have enlightened the jury on the subject were Philip Ashley himself and his brother Charles, but each of them, for reasons of his own, chose to remain silent.

  “And now you will no doubt recall the fact which finally determined the jury to bring in their sensational verdict, in consequence of which Philip Ashley was arrested on the coroner’s warrant on a charge of attempted murder. It seemed horrible, ununderstandable, unbelievable, but nevertheless a jury of twelve men did arrive at that momentous decision after deliberation lasting less than half an hour.

  “What I believe weighed with them in the end was the fact that the assistant who came with the divisional surgeon to conduct the post-mortem found underneath the bed of the deceased a walking-stick with a rather heavy knob, and the crumpled and torn copy of the notes for the new will which Mr. Triscott had prepared. Philip Ashley when confronted with the stick admitted that it was his. He had missed it on the Saturday when he was leaving the flat, as he was under the impression that he had brought one with him; however, he did not want to spend any more time looking for it, as he was obviously so very much in the way.

  “Now both the charwoman and Mrs. Triscott swore that the patient’s room had been cleaned and tidied on the Sunday, and that there was no sign of a walking-stick in the room then.

  “And so,” the Man in the Corner went on, with a cynical shrug of his lean shoulders, “Philip Ashley went through the terrible ordeal of being hauled up before the magistrate on the charge of having attempted to murder his father, an old man with one foot in the grave. He pleaded ‘Not Guilty’ and reserved his defence. The whole of the evidence was gone through all over again, of course, but nothing new had transpired. The case was universally thought to look very black against the accused, and no one was surprised when he was eventually committed for trial.

  “Public feeling remained distinctly hostile to him. It was a crime so horrible and so unique you would have thought that no one would have believed that a well-known, well-educated man could possibly have been guilty of it. Probably, if the event had occurred before the war, public opinion would have repudiated the possibility, but so many horrible crimes have occurred in every country these past few years that one was just inclined to shrug one’s shoulders and to murmur, ‘Perhaps, one never knows!’ One thing remained beyond a doubt: old Mr. Thornton Ashley died of shock or fright following a violent and dastardly assault, finger-marks were discovered round his throat, and there were evidences on his face and head that he had been repeatedly struck with what might easily have been the walking-stick which was found under his bed. Add to this the weight of evidence of the new will about to be signed, and of the quarrel between father and son on the previous Wednesday, and you have as good a motive for the murder as any prosecuting counsel might wish for. Philip Ashley would not, of course, hang for murder, but it was even betting that he would get twenty years.

  “Anyway, I don’t think that, as things were, anyone blamed Lady Peet-Jackson for her decision. A week before Philip Ashley’s trial came on she announced her engagement to Lord Francis Firmour, son of the Marquis of Ettridge, whom she subsequently married.

  “But Philip Ashley was acquitted—you remember that? He was acquitted because Sir Arthur Inglewood was his counsel, and Sir Arthur is the finest criminal lawyer we possess; and, because the evidence against him was entirely circumstantial, it was demolished by his counsel with masterly skill. Whatever might be said on the subject of motive, there was nothing whatever to prove that the accused knew anything of his father’s intentions with regard to a new will; and there was only a charwoman’s word to say that Philip had quarrelled with his father on that memorable Wednesday.

  “On the other hand, there was Mr. Oldwall and Dr. Fanshawe-Bigg, old friends of the deceased, both swearing positively that Thornton Ashley had a peculiarly shrill and loud voice, that he would often get into passions about nothing at all, when he would scream and storm, and yet mean nothing by it. The only evidence of any tangible value was the walking-stick, but even that was not enough to blast a man’s life with such a monstrous suspicion.

  “Philip Ashley was acquitted, but there are not many people who followed that case closely who believed him altogether innocent at the time. What Lady Peet-Jackson thought about it no one knows. It was for her sake that the unfortunate man threw up the chances of a fortune, and when it came within his grasp it still seemed destined to evade him in the end. In losing the woman for whom he had been prepared to make so many sacrifices, poor Philip lost the fortune a second time, because, as he was not married within the prescribed time-limit, it was Charles who inherited under the terms of the original will. But I think you will agree with me that any sensitive man is well out of a union with a hard and mercenary woman.

  “And now there has been another revolution in the wheel of Fate. Charles Ashley died the other day in a nursing-home of heart-failure following an operation. He died intestate and his brother is his sole heir. Funny, isn’t it, that Philip Ashley should get his father’s fortune in the end? But Fate does have a way sometimes of dealing out compensations after she has knocked a man about beyond his deserts. Philip Ashley is a rich man now, and there is a rumour, I am told, current in the society papers, that Lady Francis Firmour has filed a petition for divorce, and that the proceedings will be undefended. But can you imagine any man marrying such a woman after all that she made him suffer?’

  Then, as the funny creature paused and appeared entirely engrossed in the fashioning of complicated knots in his beloved bit of string, I felt that it was my turn to keep the ball rolling.

  “Then you, for one,” I said, “are quite convinced that Philip Ashley did not know that his father intended to make a new will, and did not try to murder him?”

  “Aren’t you?” he retorted.

  “Well,” I rejoined, somewhat lamely, “someone did assault the old
miser, didn’t they? If it was not Philip Ashley then it must have been just an ordinary burglar who thought that the old man had some money hidden away under his mattress.”

  “Can’t you theorise more intelligently than that?” the tiresome creature asked, in his very rude and cynical manner. I would gladly have slapped his face, only—I did want to know.

  “Your own theory,” I retorted, choosing to ignore his impertinence, “seek him first whom the crime benefits.”

  “Well, and whom did that particular crime benefit the most?”

  “Philip Ashley, of course,” I replied. “But you said yourself—”

  “Philip Ashley did not benefit by the crime,” the old scarecrow broke in, with a dry cackle. “No, no, but for the fact that a merciful Providence removed Charles Ashley so very unexpectedly out of this wicked world, Philip would still be living on a few hundreds a year, most of which he would owe to the munificence of his brother.”

  “That,” I argued, “was only because that Peet-Jackson woman threw him over, otherwise—”

  “And why did she throw him over? Because old Thornton Ashley died under mysterious circumstances and Philip Ashley was under a cloud because of it. Anyone could have foreseen that that particular woman would throw him over the very moment that suspicion fell upon him.”