The Avenger
Page 4
CHAPTER IV
UNDER A CLOUD
Exactly one week later, six men were smoking their after-dinner cigars atthe same round table in the dining-room at the Sheridan Club. As a rule,it was the hour when, with all the reserve of the day thrown aside,badinage and jest reigned supreme, and the humourist came to his own.To-night chairs were drawn a little closer together, voices were subdued,and the conversation was of a more serious order. Not even the pleasantwarmth of the room, the fragrance of tobacco, and the comfortable senseof having dined, could altogether dispel a feeling of uneasiness whichall more or less shared. It chanced that all six were friends of HerbertWrayson's.
The Colonel, as usual, was in the chair, but even on his kindly featuresthe cloud hovered.
"Of course," he said, "none of us who know Wrayson well would believe fora moment that he could be connected in any way with this beastly affair.The unfortunate part of it is, that others, who do not know him, mighteasily be led to think otherwise!"
"It is altogether his own fault, too," Mason remarked. "He gave hisevidence shockingly."
"And his movements that night, or rather that morning, were certainly alittle peculiar," another man remarked. "His connection with the affairseemed to consist of a series of coincidences. The law does not lookfavourably upon coincidences!"
"But, after all," the Colonel remarked, "he scarcely knew the fellow!Just nodded to him on the stairs, and that sort of thing. Why, thereisn't a shadow of a motive!"
"We can't be sure of that, Colonel," Heneage remarked quietly. "I wonderhow much we really know of the inner lives of even our closest friends? Ifancy that we should be surprised if we realized our ignorance!"
The Colonel stroked his grey moustache thoughtfully.
"That may be true," he said, "of a good many of us. Wrayson, however,never struck me as being a particularly secretive sort of chap."
"Unfortunately, that counts for very little," Heneage declared. "Thethings which surprise us most in life come often from the most unlikelypeople. We none of us mean to be deceitful, but a perfectly honest lifeis a luxury which few of us dare indulge in."
The Colonel regarded him gravely.
"I hope," he said, "that you don't mean that you consider Wraysoncapable--"
"I wasn't thinking of Wrayson at all," Heneage interrupted. "I wasgeneralizing. But I must say this. I think that, given sufficientprovocation or motive, there isn't one of us who wouldn't be capable ofcommitting murder. A man's outer life is lived according to the laws ofcircumstances and society: his inner one no one knows anything about,except himself--and God!"
"Heneage," Mason sighed, "is always cynical after 'kuemmel.'"
Heneage shrugged his shoulders and lit a cigarette.
"No!" he said, "I am not cynical. I simply have a weakness for the truth.You will find it rather a hard material to collect if you set out inearnest. But to return to Wrayson. Let me ask you a question. We are allfriends of his, more or less intimate friends. You would all of you scoutthe idea of his having any share in the murder of Morris Barnes. What didyou make of his evidence at the inquest this afternoon? What do you thinkof his whole deportment and condition?"
"I can answer that in one word," the Colonel declared. "I think that itis unfortunate. The poor fellow has been terribly upset, and his nerveshave not been able to stand the strain. That is all there is about it!"
"Wrayson has been working up to the limit for years," Mason remarked,"and he's not a particularly strong chap. I should say that he was aboutdue for a nervous breakdown."
A waiter approached the table and addressed the Colonel--he was wanted onthe telephone. During his absence, Heneage leaned back in his chair andrelapsed into his usual imperturbability. He was known amongst hisfriends generally as the silent man. It was very seldom that hecontributed so much to their discussions as upon this occasion. Perhapsfor that reason his words, when he spoke, always carried weight. Masonchanged his place and sat beside him. The others had wandered off into adiscussion upon a new magazine.
"Between ourselves, Heneage," Mason said quietly, "have you anything atthe back of your head about Wrayson?"
Heneage did not immediately reply. He was gazing at the little cloud ofblue tobacco smoke which he had just expelled from his lips.
"There is no reason," he declared, "why my opinion should be worth anymore than any one else's. I think as highly of Wrayson as any of you."
"Granted," Mason answered. "But you have a theory or an idea of somesort concerning him. What is it?"
"If you really want to know," Heneage said, "I believe that Wrayson haskept something back. It is a very dangerous thing to do, and I believethat he realizes it. I believe that he has some secret knowledge of theaffair which he has not disclosed--knowledge which he has kept out of hisevidence altogether."
"A--guilty--knowledge?" Mason whispered.
"Not necessarily!" Heneage answered. "He may be shielding some one."
"If you are right," Mason said anxiously, "it is a serious affair."
"Very serious indeed," Heneage assented. "I believe that he isrealizing it."
The Colonel came back looking a little disturbed.
"Sorry, boys, but I must be off," he announced. "Wrayson has justtelephoned to ask me to go down and see him. I'm afraid he's queer! I'vesent for a hansom."
"Poor chap!" Mason murmured. "Let us know if any of us can do anything."
The Colonel nodded and took his departure. The others drifted up into thebilliard-room. Heneage alone remained seated at the end of the table. Hewas playing idly with his wineglass, but his eyes were fixed steadfastly,if a little absently, upon the Colonel's empty place.