CHAPTER IV
I ADVISE MISS TEMPLE
I left the room and went down to the main hall. The divisional surgeon,with McQuade and his men had already proceeded to the scene of thetragedy, and as I did not suppose that I would be wanted there, I leftthe house and started out across the beautiful lawns, now partiallycovered with the fallen leaves of oak and elm, my mind filled withconflicting thoughts and emotions. As I passed out, I met Miss Templecoming along the porch, wearing a long cloak, and evidently prepared fora walk, so I suggested, rather awkwardly, remembering her look ofannoyance during the examination by Sergeant McQuade, that I should behappy to accompany her. Somewhat to my surprise she accepted my offerat once, and we started briskly off along the main driveway leading tothe highroad. Miss Temple, of lithe and slender build, was, I soonfound, an enthusiastic walker, and set the pace with a free and swingingstride that rejoiced my heart. I dislike walking with most women, whoseshort and halting steps make accompanying them but an irritation. I didnot say anything as we walked along, except to comment upon the changeof weather and the beauty of the day, for I felt sure that she wouldprefer to be left to her own thoughts after the trying ordeal throughwhich she had just passed. She was silent all the way down to theentrance to the grounds, and seemed to feel oppressed by the house andits proximity, but as soon as we set out along the main road towardPinhoe over which Ashton and I had traveled the evening before, sheseemed to brighten up, and, turning to me, said, with surprisingsuddenness: "Do you believe, Mr. Morgan, that I had any part in thisterrible affair? The questions the detective asked me indicated that hehad."
"Certainly not," I said. "And, if you will permit me to say so, MissTemple, I think you would have been wiser had you been entirely frankwith him."
"What do you mean?" she asked, indignantly.
I felt disappointed, somehow, at her manner.
"Miss Temple," I said, gently, "you at first refused to admit that youhad sought an interview with Mr. Ashton at midnight. I fully understoodyour reasons for your refusal. It was an unconventional thing to do, andyou feared the misjudgment of persons at large, although to me itappeared, in the light of my knowledge of the case, a most naturalaction. Mr. Ashton still retained the jewel, and, if he gave it up afteryour warning, he could not have complained of the consequences. But Iam sorry, Miss Temple, that you were not as frank about your leavingthe house, as he believes you did, early this morning."
"Why does he believe that?" she asked, spiritedly.
"Because, in the first place, he found footprints--the footprints of awoman's shoe, in the gravel walk, from the west corner of the porch tothe main entrance. They led only one way. After questioning you, hesearched your room, and found the skirt and shoes which you wore, bothwet and covered with mud. The rain did not stop until three or four thismorning. The footprints were made after the rain, or they would havebeen washed away and obliterated by it. For these reasons, he fullybelieves you were out of the house close to daybreak, which was the timeof the murder."
"The brute," said Miss Temple, indignantly, "to enter my rooms!"
"It is after all only his duty, Miss Temple," I replied.
"Well, perhaps you are right. But suppose I did go outside at thattime--suppose I had decided to run away from Mr. Ashton, and my father,and their wretched conspiracy against my happiness, what guilt is therein that? I came back, did I not?"
"Why," I inquired, "did you come back?"
She glanced quickly at me, with a look of fear.
"I--I--that I refuse to explain to anyone. After all, Mr. Morgan, Icertainly am not obliged to tell the police my very thoughts."
Her persistency in evading any explanation of her actions of the morningsurprised and annoyed me. "You will remember, Miss Temple, that I saidthe footprints led in one direction only, and that was toward thehouse. Mr. McQuade does not believe that you left the house in the sameway that you returned to it."
"What on earth does he believe then?" she inquired with a slight laugh,which was the first sign of brightness I had seen in her since she leftme with a smile the night before. I could not help admiring herbeautiful mouth and her white, even teeth as she turned inquiringly tome. Yet my answer was such as to drive that smile from her face for along time to come.
"He believes this, Miss Temple, or at least he thinks of it as apossibility: Whoever committed the murder reached the porch roof bymeans of the window at the end of the upper hall, and, after enteringand leaving Mr. Ashton's room, descended in some way from the porch tothe pathway, and re-entered the house by the main entrance. Yourfootsteps are the only ones so far that fit in with this theory."
"It is absurd!" said my companion, with a look of terror. "How couldthe window have been rebolted? Why should the murderer not havere-entered the house in the same way he left it? How does he know thatthere was anyone upon the roof at all?"
"In answer to the first objection, he claims that someone interested inthe murderer's welfare might have rebolted the window upon entering theroom. That would of course mean either your father or myself. To thesecond, that whoever committed the crime feared to enter the hall by thewindow after the house had been aroused. To the third, there is positiveevidence of the presence of someone having been upon the roof, at Mr.Ashton's window."
"What evidence?" She seemed greatly alarmed; her clenched hands andrapid breathing indicated some intense inward emotion.
"The faint print of a hand--in blood, upon the window sill. With thesethings to face, Miss Temple, you will, I'm sure, see the advisabilityof explaining fully your departure from the house, and your return, inorder that the investigations of the police may be turned in otherdirections, where the guilt lies, instead of in yours, where, I am sure,it does not." I fully expected, after telling her this, that she wouldinsist upon returning to the house at once and clearing herself fully,but what was my amazement as I observed her pallor, her agitation, thenervous clenching of her hands, increase momentarily as I laid theSergeant's theory before her! She seemed suddenly stricken with terror."I can say nothing, nothing whatever," she answered, pathetically, herface a picture of anguish.
I felt alarmed, and indeed greatly disappointed at her manner. Limitingthe crime to three persons, one of whom must have been upon the porchroof a little before daybreak, I saw at once that suspicion mustinevitably fall upon either Miss Temple or her father. In the firstinstance--McQuade's theory that Miss Temple herself committed thegruesome deed seemed borne out by all the circumstances, but, if not,there could be but one plausible explanation of her unwillingness tospeak: she must have seen the murderer upon the roof, and for thatreason rushed back into the house. In this event, however, she wouldcertainly have no desire to shield anyone but her father--and he, inturn might have re-entered the hallway through the window before I hadthrown on my clothes and left my room after hearing the cry. He, also,to cover up his crime, had he indeed committed it, might have reboltedthe window from within while I was examining the body of the murderedman, as McQuade had suggested. I remembered now that Major Temple hadexcluded everyone from the room but ourselves, and shut the door as soonas the murder was discovered. To suppose that Miss Temple was theguilty person was to me out of the question. Had she committed thecrime, her father would necessarily have been an accomplice, otherwisehe would not have bolted the window, and this seemed unbelievable to me.Yet there was the print of the bloody hand, upon the window sill--small,delicately formed, certainly not that of her father. My brain whirled. Icould apparently arrive at nothing tangible, nothing logical. There yetremained the one possibility--the Chinaman, Li Min. His hands, small anddelicate, might possibly have made the telltale print upon the windowsill, but, in that event, why should Miss Temple hesitate to tell of it,had she seen him. The only possible solution filled me with horror. Icould not for a moment believe it, yet it insisted upon forcing itselfupon my mind: that Miss Temple and Li Min were acting together; that herfather, too, was in the plot, as he must have been if he rebolted thewindow. The thing
was clearly impossible, yet if not explained in thisway, the Chinaman was clearly innocent, for I believed without questionthat, had he entered the room and committed the murder, he could in nopossible way have bolted the window himself, from without, after leavingit. I walked along in silence, my mind confused, uncertain what tobelieve and what not, yet, as I looked at the strong, beautiful face ofthe girl beside me, I could not think that, whatever she might be ledto do for the sake of someone else, she could ever have committed such acrime herself. I also remembered suddenly Major Temple's angry remark,made to Robert Ashton as they stood in the hall after dinner the nightbefore, that he would never allow Ashton to leave the house with theemerald in his possession. Was she shielding her father? Was it he,then, that she had seen upon the roof? We walked along for a time insilence, then, through some subtle intuition dropping the subject of thetragedy completely, we fell to talking of my work, my life in London,and so began to feel more at ease with each other. By the time we hadreturned to the house, it was close to the luncheon hour, and as I wentto my room, I met Sergeant McQuade, in the hall. From him I learned thatthe divisional surgeon had completed his examination and returned to thetown, that the body had been removed to a large unused billiard-room onthe ground floor, and that the inquest was set for the following morningat eleven. The detective also said, in response to a question from me,that the two Chinamen who had left Exeter on the morning train had beenapprehended in London, upon their arrival, and were being held therepending his coming. He proposed to run up to town the next day, as soonas the inquest was over. A careful and detailed search of Mr. Ashton'sroom and belongings had failed to reveal either any further evidencetending to throw light upon the murder, or any traces of the missingemerald Buddha.
After luncheon, Sergeant McQuade asked Major Temple to meet him in thelibrary, accompanied by Li Min, and at the Major's request I joinedthem. The Chinaman was stolidly indifferent and perfectly collected andcalm. His wooden face, round and expressionless, betrayed no feeling oremotion of any nature whatsoever. I observed, as did the detective, thathis right hand was bound up with a strip of white cloth. He spokeEnglish brokenly, but seemed to understand quite well all that was saidto him.
"Li Min," said Major Temple, addressing the man, "this gentleman wishesto ask you some questions." He indicated Sergeant McQuade.
"All light." The Chinaman faced McQuade with a look of bland inquiry.
"Where did you spend last night?" asked the detective suddenly.
"Me spend him with blother at Exeter."
"Where, in Exeter?"
"Flog Stleet."
"What time did you leave this house?"
"P'laps 'leven o'clock, sometime."
"Was it raining?"
"Yes, velly much lain."
"You did not go to bed, then?"
"No, no go to bed, go Exeter."
The Sergeant looked at him sternly. "Your bed was not made this morning.You are lying to me."
"No, no lie. Bed not made flom day before. I make him myself."
The detective turned to Major Temple. "Is this fellow telling thetruth?" he asked. "Does he make his own bed?"
"Yes," replied the Major. "The other servants refused to have anythingto do with him. They are afraid to enter his room. He cares for ithimself."
"What did you do in Exeter?" asked McQuade.
"P'laps talkee some, smokee some, eatee some--play fantan--bimby sleep."
"What's the matter with your hand?" asked the detective suddenly.
"Me cuttee hand, bloken bottle--Exeter."
"What kind of a bottle?"
"Whiskey bottle," answered Li Min, with a childlike smile.
McQuade turned away with a gesture of impatience. "There's no usequestioning this fellow any further," he growled. "He knows a great dealmore about this affair than he lets on, but there's no way to get it outof him, short of the rack and thumb-screw. Do any of the other servantssleep near him? Perhaps they may know whether or not he left the houselast night. Who attends to locking the house up?"
"I have always trusted Li Min," said Major Temple. "He sleeps in a smallroom on the third floor of the east wing, which has a back stairway tothe ground floor. The other house servants sleep on the second floor ofthe rear extension, over the kitchen and pantries. My daughter generallysees to the locking up of the house."
"Did she do so last night?"
"No. I did so myself. I locked the rear entrance before I retiredshortly before midnight."
"After Mr. Ashton had left you to retire?"
"Immediately after."
"Then, if Li Min had left the house by that time, you would not haveknown it?"
"No, I should not. I heard no sounds in the servants' quarters andpresumed they had retired. I sat up with Mr. Ashton, discussing variousmatters until quite late--perhaps for two hours or more after dinner."
"You were alone?"
"Yes, both my daughter and Mr. Morgan had retired some time before."
"Did you have any quarrel with Mr. Ashton before he left you?"
Major Temple glanced at me with a slight frown. "We had some words," hesaid, hesitating slightly, "but they were not of any seriousconsequence. We had a slight disagreement about the price he was to bepaid for his services in procuring for me the emerald in addition to theother arrangement, of which I have already told you."
"And the matter was not settled before he left you?"
"No--" the Major hesitated perceptibly and seemed to be choosing hiswords with the utmost care--"it was not--but we agreed to leave it untilthe morning."
"You were displeased with Mr. Ashton, were you not? You quarreledviolently?"
"I--we did not agree," stammered the Major.
"Did Mr. Ashton threaten to take the stone elsewhere, in case you wouldnot agree to pay his price?"
"He mentioned something of the sort, I believe," said the Major.
"To which you objected strongly?"
"I protested, most certainly. I regarded the stone as my property. Heacted as my agent only."
McQuade remained silent for some moments, then turned to Major Temple.
"Major Temple," he said, "I am obliged to go into the town for theremainder of the afternoon, but I shall be back here this evening. Ishall leave one of my men on the premises. When I return, I should likevery much to have you tell me the complete history of this jewel, thisemerald Buddha, which has evidently been the cause of all this trouble.No doubt Mr. Ashton told you the story of his efforts to obtain it,while in China, and of the way in which he succeeded. Possibly, when wehave a better understanding of what this jewel may mean to the realowners of it, we may the better understand how far they would go intheir efforts to recover it."
"I shall be very happy indeed to do so," said Major Temple. "It is amost interesting and remarkable story, I can assure you."
After McQuade had gone, I strolled about the grounds for the larger partof the afternoon, trying to get my mind off the gloomy events which hadfilled it all the morning to the exclusion of everything else. I said toMajor Temple before I left him that I regretted the necessity ofremaining as an uninvited guest at his house pending the inquest, andsuggested that I might remove myself and my belongings to Exeter, but hewould not hear of it. I strolled into the town, however, later in theafternoon, after trying vainly to make some sketches, and dispatched atelegram to my mother, in Torquay, advising her that I would be delayedin joining her. On my way back I took a short cut over the fields, andfound myself approaching The Oaks from the rear, through a bit ofwoodland, which through neglect had become filled with underbrush. Thesun had already set, or else the gloom of the autumn afternoon obscuredits later rays, for the wood was shadowy and dark, and as I emerged fromit, near a line of hedge which separated it from the kitchen gardens ofThe Oaks, I observed two figures standing near a gateway in the hedge,talking together earnestly. I came upon them suddenly, and, as I did so,they separated and one of them disappeared swiftly into the shadows ofthe wood while the ot
her advanced rapidly toward the house. I quickenedmy steps, and, as the figure ahead of me reached the higher ground inthe rear of the house, I saw that it was Li Min. He appeared unconsciousof my presence and vanished rapidly into the house. The circumstancefilled me with vague suspicions, though I could not tell just why.Instinctively, as I approached the house, I turned toward the west wing,and, as I reached the rear corner of the building, I stepped back on thegrass, beyond the gravel walk, to obtain a view of the windows above. AsI moved backward over the turf, until I could reach a point where Icould see over the edge of the porch roof, I suddenly tripped over anobject in the grass and nearly fell. As I recovered myself, I looked tosee what it was, and picked up a short, thick iron poker with a heavyoctagonal brass knob at one end of it. As I held it in my hand, Irealized at once that with such a weapon as this the strange wound inAshton's head could readily have been made. I examined the pointedprismatic knob carefully, but, beyond being somewhat stained from lyingin the wet grass, it showed no other marks of the gruesome use to whichI instinctively felt it had been put. Wrapping it carefully in myhandkerchief, I carried it to my room, and took the precaution to lockit safely in one of the drawers of the dresser, pending an opportunityto show it privately to Sergeant McQuade upon his return from Exeter.
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