CHAPTER VIII
The man who entered the room was of sufficiently remarkable appearanceto have attracted attention anywhere. He was short, but so fat that helooked less than his actual height, which was barely five feet. Hisponderous head, which was covered with short stiff black hair, like abrush, seemed to merge into his body without any neck, and two blackeyes glittered like diamond points in the white expanse of his hairlessface. As he advanced towards the table these eyes roved quickly from oneto the other of the faces on the other side of the table. He was inevery way a remarkable contrast to his employer, and a painter in searchof a subject might have been tempted to take the pair as models for apicture of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.
"Take that chair and answer my questions," said Mr. Cromering,addressing the waiter in a very loud voice. "Oh, I forgot," he added, tothe innkeeper. "How do you manage to communicate with him if he is stonedeaf?"
"Quite easily, sir. Charles understands the lip language--he reads yourlips while you speak. It is not even necessary to raise your voice, solong as you pronounce each word distinctly."
"Sit down, Charles--do you understand me?" said the chief constabledoubtfully. By way of helping the waiter to comprehend he pointed to thechair the innkeeper had vacated.
The waiter crossed the room and took the chair. Like so many fat men,his movements were quick, agile, and noiseless, but as he came forwardit was noticeable that his right arm was deformed, and much shorter thanthe other.
The chief constable eyed the strange figure before him in someperplexity, and the fat white-faced deaf man confronted him stolidly,with his black twinkling eyes fixed on his face. His gaze, which wasdirected to the mouth and did not reach the eyes, was so disconcertingto Mr. Cromering that he cleared his throat with several nervous "hems"before commencing his examination:
"Your name is----?"
"Charles Lynn, sir."
The reply was delivered in a whispered voice, the not infrequent resultof prolonged deafness, complete isolation from the rest of humanitycausing the gradual loss of sound values in the afflicted person; butthe whisper, coming from such a mountain of flesh, conveyed theimpression that the speaker's voice was half-strangled in layers of fat,and with difficulty gasped a way to the air. Mr. Cromering looked hardat the waiter as though suspecting him of some trick, but Charles' eyeswere fixed on the mouth of his interrogator, awaiting his next question.
"I understand that you waited on the two gentlemen in the upstairssitting-room last night"--Mr. Cromering still spoke in such anunnecessarily loud voice that he grew red in the face with theexertion--"the gentleman who was murdered, and the young man Ronald, whocame to the inn last night. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir. I waited on the gentlemen, sir."
"Very well. I want you to tell us all that took place between thesegentlemen while you were in the room. You were there all through thedinner, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir, but I didn't follow all of the conversation because of myinfirmity." He touched his ears as he spoke. "I gathered some remarks ofMr. Glenthorpe's, because he told me to stand opposite him and watch hislips for orders, but I didn't get much of what the young gentleman said,because I was standing behind his chair most of the time so as to seeMr. Glenthorpe's lips better."
"Well, tell us all you did gather of the conversation, and everythingyou saw."
"I beg your pardon, sir"--the interruption came from SuperintendentGalloway--"but would it not be advisable to get from the waiter firstsomething of what passed between him and Ronald when Ronald came to theinn last night? The waiter was the first to see him, Benson says."
"Quite right. I had forgotten. Tell us, Charles, what passed when Ronaldfirst came to the inn in the afternoon."
"It was between five and six o'clock, sir, when the young gentleman cameto the front door and asked for the landlord. I told him he was out, butwould be back shortly. The young gentleman said he was very tired, as hehad walked a long distance and lost his way in the marshes, and would Ishow him into a private room and send him some refreshments. I took himinto the bar parlour--this room, sir--and brought him refreshments. Heseemed very tired--hardly able to lift one leg after the other."
"Did he look ill--or strange?"
"I didn't notice anything strange about him, sir, but he dropped into achair as though he was exhausted, and told me to send the landlord tohim as soon as he came in. I left him sitting there, and when Mr. Bensonreturned I told him, and he went in to him. I didn't see the younggentleman again until I waited on him and Mr. Glenthorpe at dinner inthe upstairs sitting-room."
"Very good. Tell us what happened there."
"I laid the table, and took up the dinner at half-past seven. Those wereMr. Glenthorpe's orders. When I went up the first time the table wascovered with flints and fossils, which Mr. Glenthorpe was showing theyoung gentleman, and I helped Mr. Glenthorpe put these back into thecupboards, and then I laid the table. When I took up the dinner thegentlemen sat down to it, and Mr. Glenthorpe rang for Mr. Benson, andtold him to bring up some sherry. When the sherry came up Mr. Glenthorpetold the young gentleman that it was a special wine sent down by hisLondon wine merchants, and he asked Mr. Ronald what he thought of it.Mr. Ronald said he thought it was an excellent dry wine. The gentlemendidn't talk much during dinner, though Mr. Glenthorpe was a little upsetabout the partridges. He said they had been cooked too dry. He asked theyoung gentleman what he thought of them, but I don't know what hereplied, for I was not watching his lips.
"Mr. Glenthorpe quite recovered himself by the time coffee was served,and was talking a lot about his researches in the neighbourhood. It wasvery learned talk, but it seemed to interest Mr. Ronald, for he asked anumber of questions. Mr. Glenthorpe seemed very pleased with hisinterest, and told him about a valuable discovery made in a field nearwhat he called the hut circles. He said he had bought the field off thefarmer for L300, and was going to commence his excavations immediately.As the farmer refused to take a cheque for the land he had been over tothe bank at Heathfield for the money, and had brought it back with himso as to pay it over in the morning and take possession of the field.Mr. Glenthorpe complained that the bank had made him take all the moneyin Treasury notes, and he took them out of his pocket and showed them tothe young gentleman, saying how bulky they were, and pointing out thatthey were all of the first issue."
"And what did Ronald say to that?"
If the chief constable's question covered a trap, the waiter seemedunconscious of it.
"I wasn't looking at him, sir, and did not hear his reply. After puttingthe money back in his pocket, Mr. Glenthorpe told me to go downstairsand tell Mr. Benson to bring up some of the old brandy. Mr. Benson cameback with me, and Mr. Glenthorpe took the bottle from him and filled theglasses himself, telling the young gentleman that the brandy was thebest in England, a relic of the old smuggling days, but far too good forscoundrels who had never paid the King's revenue one half-penny. Thenwhen Mr. Benson had left the room he began to talk about the fieldagain, and how anxious he was to start the excavations. That was aboutall I heard, sir, for shortly afterwards Mr. Glenthorpe told me to clearaway the things, which took me several trips downstairs, because, nothaving the full use of my right hand, I have to use a small tray. It wasnot till this morning, when I was cleaning the cutlery, that I noticedthat one of the knives I had taken upstairs the night before wasmissing. I think that is all, sir."
The silence which followed, broken only by the rapid travelling ofSuperintendent Galloway's pen across the paper, revealed how intentlythe fat man's auditors had followed his whispered recital of the eventsbefore the murder. It was Superintendent Galloway who, putting down hisfountain pen, asked the waiter to describe the knife he had missed.
"It was a small, white-handled knife, sir--not one of the dinner knives,but one of the smaller ones."
"Are you sure it was one of the knives you took upstairs last night?"
"Quite sure, sir. We are very short of good cutlery, and I picked outthis
knife to put by the young gentleman's plate because it was a verygood one. It and the carving-knife are the only two knives we have inthat particular white-handled pattern."
"Was this knife sharp?"
"Very sharp, with a rather thin blade. I keep all my cutlery in goodorder, sir."
"You seem to have heard a lot that passed last night in spite of yourdeafness," said Superintendent Galloway, in the blustering manner he hadfound very useful in browbeating rural witnesses in the police courts."Is it customary for waiters to listen to everything that is said whenthey are waiting at table?"
"I did not hear everything, sir," rejoined the waiter, and his softwhisper was in striking contrast to the superintendent's hectoringtones. "I explained to the other gentleman that I heard very little theyoung gentleman said, because I wasn't watching his lips. It wasprincipally Mr. Glenthorpe's part of the conversation I have related. Ifollowed almost everything he said because I was watching his lipsclosely the whole of the time."
"Why?" snapped Superintendent Galloway.
"It was Mr. Glenthorpe's strict instructions that I was to watch hislips closely every time I waited on him, because of my infirmity. Hedisliked very much being waited on by a deaf waiter when first he cameto the inn. He said he didn't want to have to bellow out when he wantedanything. But when he found that I could understand lip language, andcould follow what he was saying by watching his lips, he allowed me towait on him, but he gave me strict instructions never to take my eyesoff him when I was waiting on him, because he disliked having to repeatan order."
At the request of Sir Henry, Superintendent Galloway asked the waiter ifhe had noticed anything peculiar in the actions of the murdered man'sguest during the dinner. The waiter replied that he had not noticed theyoung gentleman particularly. So far as his observation went the younggentleman had acted just like an ordinary young gentleman, and he hadnoticed nothing strange or eccentric about him.
Mr. Cromering decided to occupy the remaining time at his disposal byquestioning Ann. The stout servant was brought from the kitchen in astate of trepidation, and, after curtsying awkwardly to the assembledgentlemen, flopped heavily into a chair, covered her face with herapron, and burst into sobs. Her story--which was extracted from her withmuch difficulty--bore out the innkeeper's account of her early morninginterview with Ronald. She said the poor young gentleman had opened thedoor when she knocked with his tea. He was fully dressed, with his bootsin his hand, and he said he wouldn't wait for any breakfast, though shehad offered to cook him some fresh fish the master had caught the daybefore. He asked her to clean his boots, but as she was carrying themaway he called her back and said he would wear them as they were. Theywere all covered with mud--a regular mask of mud. She wanted to rub themud off, but he said that didn't matter: he was in a hurry to get away.While she had them in her hands she turned them up and looked at thebottoms, intending to put them to the kitchen fire to dry them if thesoles were wet, and it was then she noticed that there was a circularrubber heel on one which was missing on the other--only the iron pegbeing left. She took particular notice of the peg, because she intendedto hammer it down in the kitchen, thinking it must be very uncomfortableto walk on, but the young gentleman didn't give her the chance--he justtook the boots from her and walked into his room, shutting the doorbehind him.
Thus far Ann proceeded, between convulsive sobs and jelly-like tremorsof her fat frame. By dint of further questioning, it was elicited fromher that during this colloquy at the bedroom door the young gentlemanhad put a pound note into her hand, and told her to give it to hermaster in payment of his bill. "It won't be so much as that, sir," shehad said. "What about the change?"
"Oh, damn the change!" the young gentleman had said, veryimpatient-like, and then he had said, "Here's something for yourself,"and put five shillings into her hand.
"Did the young gentleman seem at all excited during the time you sawhim?" asked the chief constable, anticipating the inevitable questionfrom Sir Henry.
"I don't know what you mean by excited, sir. He seemed rarely impatientto be gone, though anybody might be excited at having to walk acrossthem nasty marshes in the morning mist without a bite to stay thestomach. I only hope he didn't catch a chill, the poor young man."
Further questions on this point only brought forth another shower oftears, and a sobbing asseveration that she hadn't taken particularnotice of the young gentleman, who was a kind, liberal-heartedgentleman, no matter what some folk might think. It was evident that thetip of five shillings had won her heart.
The chief constable waited for the storm to subside before he was ableto extract the information that Ann hadn't seen the young gentlemanleave the house. He had gone when she took up Mr. Glenthorpe's breakfastnearly an hour later, and made the discovery that the key of Mr.Glenthorpe's room was in the outside of the door, and his room empty.The young gentleman could easily have left the inn without being seen,for she and Charles were in the kitchen, and nobody else was downstairsat the time.
It was in response to Colwyn's whispered suggestion that the chiefconstable asked Ann if she had turned off the gas at the meter theprevious night. Yes, she had, she said. She heard the gentlemen leavethe sitting-room upstairs and say good-night to each other as they wentto their bedrooms, and she turned off the gas at the meter underneaththe stair five minutes afterwards, when she had finished her ironing,and went to bed herself. That would be about half-past ten.
Mr. Cromering, who did not understand the purport of the question, wassatisfied with the answer, and allowed the servant to retire. ButColwyn, as he went out to the front to get the motor ready for thejourney to Heathfield, was of a different opinion.
"Ann may have turned off the gas as she said," he thought, "but it wasturned on again during the night. Did Ann know this, and keep it back,or was it turned on and off again without her knowledge?"
The Shrieking Pit Page 8