He made a point of walking entirely3 round the house twice in every hour, and it was on one of these excursions that he heard a sound which brought him to a standstill. It was a sound like two pieces of flat board being smacked4 together sharply.
“Tap . . . tap!”
He stopped and listened, but heard nothing further. Then he retraced5 his footsteps to the front of the house and waited, but there was no sound or sign. Another half-hour passed, and then a patrolling policeman came along on the other side of the roadway. At the sight of the young man he crossed the road, and Jim recognised an acquaintance of his drug-store days. Nothing was to be gained by being evasive or mysterious, and Timothy told the policeman frankly6 his object.
“I heard about the shooting last night,” said the man, “and the inspector7 offered to put one of our men on duty here, but Sir John wouldn’t hear of it.”
“That house is asleep—you needn’t worry about that,” he said; “besides, it’ll be daylight in two hours, and a burglar wants that time to get home.”
Timothy paused irresolutely8. It seemed absurd to wait any longer, and besides, to be consistent he must be prepared to adopt this watchman r?le every night.
There was no particular reason why Sir John Maxell’s enemy should choose this night or any other. He had half expected to see Cartwright and was agreeably disappointed that he did not loom9 into view.
“I think you’re right,” he said to the policeman. “I’ll walk along down the road with you.”
They must have walked a quarter of a mile, and were standing10 chatting at the corner of the street, when a sound, borne clearly on the night air, made both men look back in the direction whence they had come. They saw two glaring spots of light somewhere in the vicinity of the Judge’s house.
“There’s a car,” said the officer, “what is it doing there at this time of the morning? There is nobody sick in the house, is there?”
Timothy shook his head. Already he had begun to walk back, and the policeman, sensing something wrong, kept him company. They had covered half the distance which separated them from the car, when it began to move toward them, gathering11 speed. It flashed past and Timothy saw nothing save the driver, for the hood12 was raised and its canvas blinds hid whatever passenger it carried.
“It came in from the other end of the avenue,” said the policeman unnecessarily. “Maybe Sir John is going a long journey and is starting early.”
“Miss Maxell would have told me,” said Timothy, troubled. “I nearly took a chance and made a jump for that car.”
It was one of the few chances Timothy did not take, and one that he bitterly regretted afterwards.
“If you had,” said the practical policeman, “I should have been looking for the ambulance for you now.”
Timothy was no longer satisfied to play the r?le of the silent watcher. When he came to the house he went boldly through the gate and up the drive, and his warrant for the intrusion was the officer who followed him. It was then that he saw the open window of the girl’s room, and his heart leapt into his mouth. He quickened his step, but just as he came under the window, she appeared, and Timothy sighed his relief.
“Is that you?” she said in a low worried voice; “is that Mr. Anderson? Thank heaven you’ve come! Wait, I will come down and open the door for you.”
He walked to the entrance, and presently the door was opened and the girl, dressed in a wrapper, appeared. She tried to keep her voice steady, but the strain of the past half-hour had been too much for her, and she was on the verge13 of tears when Timothy put his arm about her shaking shoulders and forced her down into a chair.
“Sit down,” he said, “and tell us what has happened.”
She looked at the officer and tried to speak.
“There’s a servant,” said the policeman; “perhaps he knows something.”
A man dressed in shirt and trousers was coming down the stairs.
“I can’t make him hear,” he said, “or Lady Maxell, either.”
“What has happened?” asked Timothy.
“I don’t know, sir. The young lady woke me and asked me to rouse Sir John.”
“Wait, wait,” said the girl. “I am sorry I am so silly. I am probably making a lot of trouble over nothing. It happened nearly an hour ago, I was asleep and I heard a sound; thought I was dreaming of what happened last night. It sounded like two shots, but, whatever it was, it woke me.”
Timothy nodded.
“I know. I thought I heard them too,” he said.
“Then you were out there all the time?” she asked and put out her hand to him.
For that look she gave him Timothy would have stayed out the three hundred and sixty-five nights in the year.
“I lay for a very long time, thinking that the sound would wake my uncle, but I heard nothing.”
“Is your room near Sir John’s?” asked the policeman.
“No, mine is on this side of the building; Sir John and Lady Maxell sleep on the other side. I don’t know what it was, but something alarmed me and filled me with terror—something that made my flesh go rough and cold—oh, it was horrible!” she shuddered14.
“I couldn’t endure it any longer, so I got out of bed and went out into the corridor to wake uncle. Just then I heard a sound outside my window, but I was just too terrified to look out. Then I heard a motor-car and footsteps on the path outside. I went to Sir John’s door and knocked, but got no answer. Then I tried Lady Maxell’s door, but there was no answer there either. So I went to Johnson’s room and woke him;” she looked at Timothy, “I—I—thought that you might be there, so I came back to the open window and looked.”
“Show me Sir John’s room,” said the policeman to the servant, and the three men passed up the stairs, followed by the girl.
The door which the man indicated was locked, and even when the policeman hammered on the panel there was no response.
“I think the key of my door will unlock almost any of the room doors,” said the girl suddenly. “Sir John told me once that all the room locks were made on the same plan.”
She went away and came back with a key. The policeman fitted it in the lock and opened the door, feeling for and finding the electric switch as he entered. The room was empty, and apparently15 the bed had not been occupied.
“Where does that door lead?” he asked.
“That leads to Lady Maxell’s room,” said the girl; “there is a key on this side.”
This door he found was open and again they found an empty room and a bed which had not been slept in. They looked at one another.
“Wouldn’t Sir John be in his study till late?” asked Timothy.
The girl nodded.
“It is at the end of the corridor,” she said in a broken voice, for she felt that the study held some dreadful secret.
This door was locked too, locked from the inside. By now the policeman was standing on no ceremony, and with a quick thrust of his shoulder he broke the lock, and the door flew open.
“Let us have a little light,” he said, unconsciously copying words which had been spoken in that room an hour before.
The room was empty, but here at any rate was evidence. The safe stood open, the fireplace was filled with glowing ashes, and the air of the room was pungent17 with the scent18 of burnt paper.
“What is this?” asked Timothy, pointing to the ground.
The floor of the study was covered with a thick, biscuit-coloured carpet, and “this” was a round, dark stain which was still wet. The policeman went on his knees and examined it.
“It is blood,” he said briefly19; “there’s another patch near the door. Where does this door lead? Catch that girl, she’s fainting!”
Timothy was just in time to slip his arm round Mary’s waist before she collapsed20. By this time the household was aroused, and a woman servant was on the spot to take charge of Mary. When Timothy had rejoined the policeman, that officer had discovered where the door led.
“You go down a stairway into the garden,” he said. “It looks as if two shots were fired here. Look, there’s the mark of both of them on the wall.”
“Do you suggest that two people have been killed?”
The policeman nodded.
“One was shot in the middle of the room, and one was probably shot on the way to the door. What do you make of this?” and he held up a bag, discoloured and weather-worn, with a handle to which was fastened a long length of rusty21 wire.
“It is empty,” said the officer, examining the contents of the little grip which, up till an hour before, had held John Maxell’s most jealously guarded secrets.
“I’ll use this ’phone,” said the officer. “You’d better stay by, Mr. Anderson. We shall want your evidence—it will be important. It isn’t often we have a man watching outside a house where a murder is committed—probably two.”
The sun had risen before the preliminary interrogation and the search of the house and grounds had been concluded. Blewitt the detective, who had taken charge of the case, came into the dining-room, where a worried servant was serving coffee for the investigators22, and dropped down on to a chair.
“There’s one clue and there’s one clue alone,” he said, and drew from his pocket a soft hat. “Do you recognise this, Anderson?”
Timothy nodded.
“Cartwright?” said the detective.
“I could swear to it,” said Timothy. “Where did you find it?”
“Outside,” said the detective; “and that is all we have to go on. There is no sign of any body. My first theory stands.”
“You believe that the murderer carried Sir John and Lady Maxell into the car and drove away with them?” said Timothy; “but that pre-supposes that the chauffeur23 was in the plot.”
“He may have been and he may have been terrorised,” said the detective. “Even a taxi-driver will be obliging if you stick a gun in his stomach.”
“But wouldn’t Miss Maxell have heard——” began Timothy.
“Miss Maxell heard,” said the detective, “but was afraid to look out. She also heard two shots. My theory is that Sir John and Lady Maxell were killed, that the murderer first locked both the bedrooms, went through Sir John’s papers, presumably to discover something incriminating himself, and to destroy such documents.”
“But why not leave the bodies?” said Timothy.
“Because without the bodies no indictment24 of murder could hold against him.”
Timothy Anderson turned as the girl came in. She was looking very tired, but she was calmer than she had been earlier in the morning.
“Is there any news?” she asked, and Timothy shook his head.
“We have searched every inch of the ground,” he said.
“Do you think——” She hesitated to ask the question.
“I am afraid,” replied Timothy gently, “that there is very little hope.”
“But have you searched everywhere?” insisted the girl.
“Everywhere,” replied Timothy.
Soon after, Timothy took the girl away to an hotel for breakfast and to arrange for a room, and the house was left in charge of the police. Later came the famous detective Gilborne, who made an independent search, but he, like his predecessors25, failed to discover any further evidence, because he also knew nothing of the disused well, which lay hidden under a rubbish heap.
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1
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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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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smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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14
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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15
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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16
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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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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22
investigators
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| n.调查者，审查者( investigator的名词复数 ) | |
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chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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24
indictment
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| n.起诉；诉状 | |
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predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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