by Sax Rohmer
There were strangers about Cray's Folly and a sort of furtive activity,horribly suggestive. We had not pursued the circular route by the highroad which would have brought us to the lodge, but had turned asidewhere the swing-gate opened upon a footpath into the meadows. It was thepath which I had pursued upon the day of my visit to the LavenderArms. A second private gate here gave access to the grounds at a pointdirectly opposite the lake; and as we crossed the valley, making for theterraced lawns, I saw unfamiliar figures upon the veranda, and knew thatthe cumbersome processes of the law were already in motion.
I was longing to speak to Val Beverley and to learn what had taken placeduring her interview with Inspector Aylesbury, but Harley led the waytoward the tower wing, and by a tortuous path through the rhododendronswe finally came out on the northeast front and in sight of the Tudorgarden.
Harley crossed to the entrance, and was about to descend the steps, whenthe constable on duty there held out his arm.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, "but I have orders to admit no one to thispart of the garden."
"Oh," said Harley, pulling up short, "but I am acting in this case. Myname is Paul Harley."
"Sorry, sir," replied the constable, "but you will have to see InspectorAylesbury."
My friend uttered an impatient exclamation, but, turning aside:
"Very well, constable," he muttered; "I suppose I must submit. Ourfriend, Aylesbury," he added to me, as we walked away, "would appearto be a martinet as well as a walrus. At every step, Knox, he proveshimself a tragic nuisance. This means waste of priceless time."
"What had you hoped to do, Harley?"
"Prove my theory," he returned; "but since every moment is precious, Imust move in another direction."
He hurried on through the opening in the box hedge and into thecourtyard. Manoel had just opened the doors to a sepulchral-lookingperson who proved to be the coroner's officer, and:
"Manoel!" cried Harley, "tell Carter to bring a car round at once."
"Yes, sir."
"I haven't time to fetch my own," he explained.
"Where are you off to?"
"I am off to see the Chief Constable, Knox. Aylesbury must be supersededat whatever cost. If the Chief Constable fails I shall not hesitate togo higher. I will get along to the garage. I don't expect to be morethan an hour. Meanwhile, do your best to act as a buffer betweenAylesbury and the women. You understand me?"
"Quite," I returned, shortly. "But the task may prove no light one,Harley."
"It won't," he assured me, smiling grimly. "How you must regret, Knox,that we didn't go fishing!"
With that he was off, eager-eyed and alert, the mood of dreamyabstraction dropped like a cloak discarded. He fully realized, as I did,that his unique reputation was at stake. I wondered, as I had wonderedat the Guest House, whether, in undertaking to clear Colin Camber, hehad acted upon sheer conviction, or, embittered by the death of hisclient, had taken a gambler's chance. It was unlike him to do so. Butnow beyond reach of that charm of manner which Colin Camber possessed,and discounting the pathetic sweetness of his girl-wife, I realized howblack was the evidence against him.
Occupied with these, and even more troubled thoughts, I was making myway toward the library, undetermined how to act, when I saw Val Beverleycoming along the corridor which communicated with Madame de Staemer'sroom.
I read a welcome in her eyes which made my heart beat the faster.
"Oh, Mr. Knox," she cried, "I am so glad you have returned. Tell me allthat has happened, for I feel in some way that I am responsible for it."
I nodded gravely.
"You know, then, where Inspector Aylesbury went when he left here, afterhis interview with you?"
She looked at me pathetically.
"He went to the Guest House, of course."
"Yes," I said; "he was close behind us."
"And"--she hesitated--"Mr. Camber?"
"He has been detained."
"Oh!" she moaned. "I could hate myself! Yet what could I say, what couldI do?"
"Just tell me all about it," I urged. "What were the Inspector'squestions?"
"Well," explained the girl, "he had evidently learned from someone,presumably one of the servants, that there was enmity between Mr. Camberand Colonel Menendez. He asked me if I knew of this, and of course Ihad to admit that I did. But when I told him that I had no idea of itscause, he did not seem to believe me."
"No," I murmured. "Any evidence which fails to dove-tail with hispreconceived theories he puts down as a lie."
"He seemed to have made up his mind for some reason," she continued,"that I was intimately acquainted with Mr. Camber. Whereas, of course, Ihave never spoken to him in my life, although whenever he has passed mein the road he has always saluted me with quite delightful courtesy.Oh, Mr. Knox, it is horrible to think of this great misfortune coming tothose poor people." She looked at me pleadingly. "How did his wife takeit?"
"Poor little girl," I replied, "it was an awful blow."
"I feel that I want to set out this very minute," declared Val Beverley,"and go to her, and try to comfort her. Because I feel in my very soulthat her husband is innocent. She is such a sweet little thing. I havewanted to speak to her since the very first time I ever saw her, but onthe rare occasions when we have met in the village she has hurriedpast as though she were afraid of me. Mr. Harley surely knows that herhusband is not guilty?"
"I think he does," I replied, "but he may have great difficulty inproving it. And what else did Inspector Aylesbury wish to know?"
"How can I tell you?" she said in a low voice; and biting her lipagitatedly she turned her head aside.
"Perhaps I can guess."
"Can you?" she asked, looking at me quickly. "Well, then, he seemed toattach a ridiculous importance to the fact that I had not retired lastnight at the time of the tragedy."
"I know," said I, grimly. "Another preconceived idea of his."
"I told him the truth of the matter, which is surely quite simple, andat first I was unable to understand the nature of his suspicions. Then,after a time, his questions enlightened me. He finally suggested, quiteopenly, that I had not come down from my room to the corridor in whichMadame de Staemer was lying, but had actually been there at the time!"
"In the corridor outside her room?"
"Yes. He seemed to think that I had just come in from the door nearthe end of the east wing and beside the tower, which opens into theshrubbery."
"That you had just come in?" I exclaimed. "He thinks, then, that you hadbeen out in the grounds?"
Val Beverley's face had been very pale, but now she flushed indignantly,and glanced away from me as she replied:
"He dared to suggest that I had been to keep an assignation."
"The fool!" I cried. "The ignorant, impudent fool!"
"Oh," she declared, "I felt quite ill with indignation. I am afraid Imay regard Inspector Aylesbury as an enemy from now onward, for whenI had recovered from the shock I told him very plainly what I thoughtabout his intellect, or lack of it."
"I am glad you did," I said, warmly. "Before Inspector Aylesburyis through with this business I fancy he will know more about hislimitations than he knows at present. The fact of the matter is that heis badly out of his depth, but is not man enough to acknowledge the facteven to himself."
She smiled at me pathetically.
"Whatever should I have done if I had been alone?" she said.
I was tempted to direct the conversation into a purely personal channel,but common sense prevailed, and:
"Is Madame de Staemer awake?" I asked.
"Yes." The girl nodded. "Dr. Rolleston is with her now."
"And does she know?"
"Yes. She sent for me directly she awoke, and asked me."
"And you told her?"
"How could I do otherwise? She was quite composed, wonderfully composed;and the way she heard the news was simply heroic. But here is Dr.Rolleston, coming now."
I glanced along the corrid
or, and there was the physician approachingbriskly.
"Good morning, Mr. Knox," he said.
"Good morning, doctor. I hear that your patient is much improved?"
"Wonderfully so," he answered. "She has enough courage for ten men. Shewishes to see you, Mr. Knox, and to hear your account of the tragedy."
"Do you think it would be wise?"
"I think it would be best."
"Do you hold any hope of her permanently recovering the use of herlimbs?"
Dr. Rolleston shook his head doubtfully.
"It may have only been temporary," he replied. "These obscure nervousaffections are very fickle. It is unsafe to make predictions. Butmentally, at least, she is quite restored from the effects of lastnight's shock. You need apprehend no hysteria or anything of thatnature, Mr. Knox."
"Oh, I see," exclaimed a loud voice behind us.
We all three turned, and there was Inspector Aylesbury crossing the hallin our direction.
"Good morning, Dr. Rolleston," he said, deliberately ignoring mypresence. "I hear that your patient is quite well again this morning?"
"She is much improved," returned the physician, dryly.
"Then I can get her testimony, which is most important to my case?"
"She is somewhat better. If she cares to see you I do not forbid theinterview."
"Oh, that's good of you, doctor." He bowed to Miss Beverley. "Perhaps,Miss, you would ask Madame de Staemer to see me for a few minutes."
Val Beverley looked at me appealingly then shrugged her shoulders,turned aside, and walked in the direction of Madame de Staemer's door.
"Well," said Dr. Rolleston, in his brisk way, shaking me by the hand, "Imust be getting along. Good morning, Mr. Knox. Good morning, InspectorAylesbury."
He walked rapidly out to his waiting car. The presence of InspectorAylesbury exercised upon Dr. Rolleston a similar effect to that whicha red rag has upon a bull. As he took his departure, the Inspector drewout his pocket-book, and, humming gently to himself, began to consultcertain entries therein, with a portentous air of reflection which wouldhave been funny if it had not been so irritating.
Thus we stood when Val Beverley returned, and:
"Madame de Staemer will see you, Inspector Aylesbury," she said, "butwishes Mr. Knox to be present at the interview."
"Oh," said the Inspector, lowering his chin, "I see. Oh, very well."
CHAPTER XXVI
IN MADAME'S ROOM