“Good-afternoon, Mr. Roper.”
He turned quickly. “Hallo, Griffiths,” he said as a constable3 entered. “Got back all right then?”
Constable Griffiths grinned. “You’ve said it. Ran ’em into Lewes Jail about half-past eleven this morning—wasn’t half a mob as the van drew up. News spreads, don’t it, Mr. Roper? Nice job for a Bank Holiday!”
Roper nodded. “Guess they won’t call it a honeymoon4, that pair,” he reflected. “Still, things aren’t at all clear....”
“Which one did the job, do you think?” interrogated5 Griffiths.
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“Which job?”
“Why, the murder, of course. What’s the Inspector think?” He went on. “I know he ain’t holding ’em yet for that job—I was here when they were charged, but he’s a dark horse, he is,” he chuckled6 as at some particularly satisfying reminiscence ... “I’ve known him years.”
“Well, Griffiths, he hasn’t confided7 in me ... yet,” rejoined Roper, “but if you want my opinion, for what it’s worth, we aren’t by any means at the end of the case ... not by a long way.”
Griffiths showed signs of agreement, sagely8. “I gave Dr. Elliott a hand when they brought the body down to the mortuary,” he announced with an obvious sense of importance, “unusual thing you know, Mr. Roper, a bloke strangled and stabbed like this one was—like the pictures,” he concluded with evident relish9.
“Yes,” said Roper. “I can tell you it’s given the Inspector plenty to think about.”
“More in it than meets the eye, eh?” Griffiths delivered this profound opinion with a prodigious10 amount of head shaking and brow knitting.
“Shouldn’t be surprised—but clear out now—here comes the Governor.”
Griffiths adjusted his chin-strap. “Right-O—I’ll come and see you later.”
149
“Did I hear you talking, Roper?” said Baddeley, as he entered. “Who was it?” As I am entirely11 indebted to Baddeley himself for the substance of this chapter, I can say with assurance that he mistook the constable’s voice for that of Fitch, Sir Charles Considine’s butler, hence this rather peremptory12 opening question—but he was a man who took very few chances—and his mind at this particular time was casting, as it were, backwards13 and forwards, to grasp any point that seemed of the slightest significance.
“Constable Griffiths, sir,” replied Roper. “He’s been to Lewes, as you know, sir, with the two prisoners and just got back. They’re pretty quiet, he says,” volunteered Roper in addition. “Dazed-like.”
“Humph!” grunted14 Baddeley. “Those photographs ready yet?”
“Just about, sir, I think.” Roper went to the window and brought them back. Then extracted them, one by one, from their frames.
Baddeley glanced quickly at the first two or three—those of Prescott’s dead body lying as we had found it.
“I want the finger-prints and the photo of those on the Venetian dagger15,” he said impatiently. “I’m puzzled, Roper, the whole case puzzles me—I want to see if any of the prints we got on those interesting letters of yours correspond with those we originally spotted16 on the dagger.”
“Very good, sir,” murmured Roper. “There’s a beauty there of the dagger prints”—he handed it over to his superior—“the others won’t be very long.”
150
“Thanks! A remarkable17 case, Roper, don’t you think?” He went on without giving his assistant time to reply. “A man murdered in a country house, with two weapons employed—although according to the medical testimony18 the shoe-lace did the job effectively and the dagger wasn’t needed. The body is found in the billiard room on the billiard-table—in evening dress and brown shoes. Where’s the motive19?”
“Ah, that’s it, sir,” interposed Roper. “Find that and you’ll see daylight.”
“Well,” went on Baddeley, “there are three people against whom we can lodge20 a motive or a partial motive.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “(One) Webb—Prescott interrupted him or was in some way connected with him ... he had been out that night on some pretext21. (Two) Lieutenant22 Barker—he had financial reasons for wishing Prescott out of the way—and his I.O.U. cannot be traced. (Three) Major Hornby—he was Barker’s friend and brother officer. And had lost money to Prescott similarly. Also he was the reverse of candid23 when I spoke24 to him.” He paused and considered. “They’re the three I’ve got something against, Roper, and one of those three had the shoe-lace in his pocket. Pretty conclusive25, some people would say, and yet ... and yet. I’m not satisfied. Can you see the unusual features of this affair, Roper?”
“Seem to me a large number, sir,” answered Roper. “Do you mean any particular one?”
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“I mean this. Everybody in the house has got the same alibi—of course an unsupported and unsatisfactory one, I admit—but there it is. ‘I was asleep, Inspector.’”
“I suppose if the murdered man were here and could speak, he’d say he was asleep too!” Roper grinned at the sally.
“Young Mr. Considine and Captain Arkwright admitted to a certain amount of wakefulness, sir,” he reminded the Inspector.
“Yes—I know. Arkwright heard the ‘Spider’—I’ve no doubt on that point—Jack Considine may have heard anything—Marshall—Mrs. Webb, if you prefer it—possibly leaving the billiard room—it’s an idea certainly.”
Roper pursed his lips together. “It’s the motives26 some people may have had, sir, the motives that have to be probed for. What’s that bit the French say about looking for a woman always?”
“Cherchez la femme,” said Baddeley. “I wonder.”
“Any one of the people up at the Manor27 may be guilty, sir, it seems to me,” continued the indefatigable28 Roper, “and then again it may come back quite simply and directly to ‘Spider’ Webb. The job is to pick out the main trail and not go dashing off into side tracks that eventually become blind alleys29.”
“Very true, Roper, very true,” smiled Baddeley. “But it isn’t quite so easy as you imagine; one of your side tracks may turn out to be that main trail and what you think is the main trail, may prove to be only a side track.”
152
“That Mr. Bathurst’s a smart young fellow, sir. He’d have done well in our line, don’t you think so?”
“Perhaps! You can’t always tell. What about those prints?”
Roper took them out. “They’re all numbered, sir. And I’ve got the corresponding numbers in my note-book. And I fancy we’ve got pretty well everybody here. Everybody that’s likely, that is!” He paused. Then continued: “We haven’t got the ‘Spider’s,’ sir. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?... And I’m thinking his are the most likely.”
“No, I know, Roper. Easily get those from ‘the Yard’ if necessary.”
Roper arranged the photographs. “I’ll put them in numerical order, sir, that will simplify matters a bit.”
Baddeley picked up his magnifying glass and proceeded on his course of comparison. But one by one he laid the photos down again. Then suddenly he shot up from his seat.
“You’ve clicked, Roper!” he shouted. He looked at the back. “Number 9,” he exclaimed, “number nine for a certainty, look—the identical loops and whorls—who in the name of thunder is Nine—where’s your note-book—quick, man, quick!” The prints had come out clearly and distinctly. And when compared with the photograph of those on the Venetian dagger, there didn’t remain the shadow of a doubt that the same fingers had made them. Roper flicked30 the leaves of his note-book. “Number Nine, sir?” he queried31. He ran his eye down the page. “Major Hornby!”
153
Baddeley gasped32. “This beats the band, Roper, but all the same, mark my words, one of the three with a motive that’s known. Well, I’m blessed.”
Roper looked wise and said nothing.
Baddeley’s mind went back. “He practically refused all information when I questioned him, and told me to mind my own business. If he’s the murderer of Prescott he reckons we’ve got no proof at all ... he’ll try to put up a big bluff33. Now where do I stand? All I can put against him so far is a motive, finger-prints on a dagger that has played some part in the crime ... anything else? I can’t put a truculent34 manner and attitude in as compromising evidence.” He paced the room—backwards and forwards. “Gets a darned sight more complicated every step,” he grumbled35.
“This dagger was kept in the drawing-room, wasn’t it, sir?” said Roper.
“So I’m told. On what they called the curio table. What are you driving at?”
“Well, I don’t somehow think the ‘Spider’ ever got into the drawing-room.”
“Marshall may have taken it from the table.”
“Why don’t her finger-prints show then, sir?”
“True ... Major Hornby seems to have been the last person to have used it.”
“He could easily have taken it to his bedroom, sir,” continued Roper.
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“Yes, he slept alone. It’s feasible. But why the deuce was Prescott outside that night?” Baddeley blazed. “Tell me that and I’ll tell you a lot more ... nothing I light on seems to have any bearing on that point. And till I know, I’m messing round in the dark.”
“Where does this Major Hornby hang out, sir?” questioned Roper.
“Don’t know at the moment, but Sir Charles Considine will let me know at once if I ask him. I think I will.”
Anthony and I were in the garden when the Inspector arrived. He looked worried and puzzled but determined36.
“Good-afternoon, gentlemen, Sir Charles about and handy?”
Anthony looked at me. “Yes,” I said, “you’ll probably find him in the library.”
“Thank you.” He passed through into the house, and it was not for some days that I learned of the reason underlying37 his visit or what transpired38 at his interview with Sir Charles Considine. Our host, I imagine, was not too pleased at Baddeley’s reappearance. We had had a brief period of comparative quiet after the arrest of Webb and his wife, and Sir Charles was expecting to be left alone until the inquest. This advent39 of Baddeley disturbed him and brought back the sinister40 influences that he had been trying to forget.
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“The address of Major Hornby? Of course you can have it! But surely, Inspector, you don’t harbor any suspicions against a gentleman of Major Hornby’s standing41?”
“Not at all, Sir Charles,” replied Baddeley cheerfully. “I merely want a little more information from the Major on one particular point than he was able to give me when I saw him previously42. That is all, sir.”
Sir Charles rummaged43 through his pigeonholes44. “Major Hornby is a man of unimpeachable45 integrity, Baddeley—a British Officer—don’t forget—and—er—a gentleman. Here’s the address.” He turned a card over. Baddeley took it. “Melville’s Hotel, Canterbury,” he read.
“Thank you, Sir Charles. Please accept my sincere apologies for disturbing you. By the way—the inquest has been fixed46 for Thursday.”
Sir Charles thanked him, and the Inspector bowed himself out.
“I want you to motor me over to Canterbury, Roper,” he announced as soon as he got back. “Major Hornby’s staying there—it shouldn’t take us too long although, being Bank Holiday, the roads are certain to be pretty thick.” A couple of hours’ journey took them over, and shortly afterwards the car drew up outside Melville’s Hotel.
The Inspector sent up his card with the request that he might see the Manager. A tall man—dark and rather military-looking—quickly attended upon him.
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Baddeley told him his errand. “Major Hornby is staying here—certainly—he arrived late on Saturday evening—but he is not in at the present moment.”
“Would he be likely to be long?” inquired the Inspector.
The Manager didn’t think so—he would speak to one of the waiters. Would the Inspector be kind enough to excuse him for a moment? Baddeley kicked his heels in the vestibule. But his patience was not strained for long. “Major Hornby is expected back for dinner—he has asked his waiter to reserve him a corner seat at one of the dining-tables. Will you wait, Inspector, or call back in about an hour?” Baddeley thought the matter over for a moment and decided47 to call back.
“Roper,” he said as he entered the car, “drive to a nice little pub, where we can get a Guinness and something to eat in a certain amount of seclusion48. I’m getting a bit peckish.”
Now this was a job near Roper’s heart, and he lost little time in the fulfilment of the instruction. The saloon they entered was moderately full, and divided into two compartments50, one of which was curtained off and designated, “Smoke Lounge.” Baddeley elected to remain in the ordinary compartment49 and was just settling down to the enjoyment51 of his “snack” when the fragment of a conversation from the other side of the curtain arrested his attention and screwed all his faculties52 to their highest pitch. “Well, Barker,” said a voice that sounded strangely familiar, “I’m glad I met you as you suggested—and I’m more than glad that you’ve come to me for advice. I’ve given it to you, and I hope you’ll decide to take it. It’s always as well in affairs of this kind, to make a clean breast to somebody. And I don’t imagine that the truth will ever be brought to light now—so you can rest in peace.”
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Baddeley’s eyes met Roper’s—he put his finger to his lips.
“Thanks awfully53, Major,” came the reply, “it’s been no end of a worry wondering what has been found out, and what hasn’t, and I’m deuced glad to have told you. I’ll say good-night”; and before Baddeley could offer any further warning—the heavy, dark-blue curtain parted and there stepped out Lieutenant Barker. Without noticing their presence, he strode across the apartment and disappeared. The Inspector gripped the edge of the table with his fingers. Then he leaned across and addressed his companion.
“I’m going to strike while the iron’s hot,” he whispered. “You stay here and listen—I’m going in there to have a word with Major Hornby. Don’t move from this table till you see me again.”
Roper accepted the situation with an understanding nod, and Baddeley pushed the curtains to one side and stepped through.
“Good-evening, Major Hornby,” he said cordially. “May I sit down?”
Major Hornby looked up in amazement54. Then his breeding got the better of his inclinations55. He suffered himself to return the Inspector’s greeting. He then turned nonchalantly to the table and emptied his glass. This accomplished56 he rose as though to go. Baddeley raised his hand.
158
“I want a word with you, Major,” he spoke very quietly, and not without dignity, “and, believe me, I have come some miles to get it.”
Major Hornby shrugged57 his shoulders. Then he spoke very coldly. “You are imposing58 a distinct strain on my forbearance, Inspector Baddeley—I have already given you all the information I can. That should satisfy even your fund of curiosity.”
“All the information you can?” queried Baddeley, “or all the information you intend to give me?”
Hornby eyed him with strong disfavor. “Call it what you choose.”
Baddeley’s impatience59 mastered him. “Look here, Major,” he said, “I’m going to be perfectly60 frank with you, and I’m not going to beat about the bush.” Hornby raised his eyebrows61.
“I’m afraid I’m at a loss to——”
Baddeley cut him short. Lowering his voice considerably62 he leaned right across the table, and something in his persistence63 compelled Hornby to listen attentively64. “You will remember, Major, that Mr. Prescott besides having been strangled—had been stabbed at the base of the neck with a dagger—known to Sir Charles Considine, your late host, and to his intimates, as the Venetian dagger?”
159
Major Hornby showed signs of assent65. The Inspector proceeded. “That dagger was prepared and photographed on my instructions, immediately after I first arrived on the scene, and on the result showed a distinct set of finger-marks.” His companion began to show evidence of interest. “Now, Major,” and here Baddeley grew grave, “I made it my business to obtain a set of finger-prints of the various people I encountered in the house”—he was studying Hornby very carefully now—“and I have compared the incriminating set with the specimens66 I managed to obtain.” He paused.
“I’m all attention, Inspector,” said the Major. “And you discovered——?”
“That the finger-prints were yours—Major Hornby.”
“Really, Inspector—now that’s most interesting—when are you going to arrest me?”
Baddeley waved the sarcasm67 on one side. “Can you explain what I have just told you?”
Hornby pulled at his top lip, thoughtfully.
“Quite easily to a point,” he said. He looked at the Inspector, who showed no sign. Hornby went on. “I held that dagger in my hand on the evening before Prescott was murdered.”
“What were the circumstances?”
The Major smiled. “Nothing suspicious. After dinner that evening, we were talking about crime——”
Baddeley was immediately alert. “What? Who was?”
“All of us. The conversation was general. Why do you ask?”
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“Who was responsible for the turn the conversation took? Anybody in particular—think carefully—it may be of the greatest importance?”
“Well, if you ask me, Inspector, it was Bathurst—he rather fancies himself, you know, in the sleuth line. Can’t think of anybody else. Yes, I’m sure he began it.”
Baddeley nodded. “All right! Go on!”
Hornby reflected. “Where was I?”
“Talking about crime,” muttered his companion grimly. “Only talking——”
“Oh yes! Well, the conversation got pretty well going—murders and detectives and what not, and it didn’t seem likely that cards would be started for some little time—and I wandered round the drawing-room. When I got to the curio table, as it was called, my eyes fell on the Venetian dagger. I couldn’t help thinking how it fitted in with the subject of the reigning68 conversation. I picked it up and examined it with some interest—and the thought came to me that it might have sent more than one soul into eternity69.”
The Inspector listened eagerly, and with some impatience.
“Yes, yes!” he said. “What then?”
Major Hornby shook his head—“There’s nothing more to tell. I put the dagger back on the table and shortly afterwards started to play cards.”
Baddeley thought for a moment. His next question the Major thought surprising.
“Tell me, Major Hornby,” he said, “when you were examining the dagger, did you by any chance happen to notice if any person in the room was watching you?”
Hornby looked him straight in the eyes. “That’s very remarkable—because I did.”
“Who was it?” The Inspector’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
“Gerald Prescott!”
Baddeley pushed his chair back—then mastered his discomfiture70. Hornby eyed him with cool nonchalance71. “And I can tell you something else of importance. When I went to bed that night—the Venetian dagger had gone from the curio table!! Because I looked.”
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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honeymoon
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| n.蜜月（假期）；vi.度蜜月 | |
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interrogated
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| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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sagely
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| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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prodigious
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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dagger
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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testimony
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motive
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lodge
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pretext
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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candid
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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conclusive
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motives
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manor
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indefatigable
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alleys
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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gasped
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bluff
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truculent
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grumbled
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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underlying
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| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
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transpired
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| （事实，秘密等）被人知道( transpire的过去式和过去分词 )； 泄露； 显露； 发生 | |
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advent
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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standing
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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pigeonholes
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| n.鸽舍出入口( pigeonhole的名词复数 )；小房间；文件架上的小间隔v.把…搁在分类架上( pigeonhole的第三人称单数 )；把…留在记忆中；缓办；把…隔成小格 | |
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unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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compartments
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| n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 )；（列车车厢的）隔间；（家具或设备等的）分隔间；隔层 | |
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51
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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inclinations
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| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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reigning
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| adj.统治的，起支配作用的 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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