"This would appear to prove that the deceased had a visitor immediately
before his death, and that his visitor was a lady."
"That is what I surmise," observed the doctor. "My examination has
proved one or two things." There was a stir in Court, followed by a
dead and eager silence.
"I found no external mark of violence whatsoever," the doctor continued
in a clear tone, "and the clenched hand with the piece of muslin within
did not point to death from any unnatural cause. The only external
marks were two very curious ones which are entirely unaccountable. On
each elbow I found a strange white scar, the remains of some injury
inflicted perhaps a year ago. The eyes, too, were discoloured in a
manner altogether unaccountable. On further examination, I found no
trace whatever of any organic disease. The deceased was a strong
athletic man, and was suffering from no known malady which could have
resulted fatally."
"Did you make an examination of the stomach?" inquired the Coroner.
"I did. Suspecting suicide by poison, I made a most careful analysis,
assisted by Dr Leverton, of King's College Hospital, but we failed to
discover any trace of poison whatsoever."
"Then you cannot assign any cause for death in this instance?" observed
the Coroner, looking up sharply in surprise.
"No," answered the doctor. "I cannot."
"Have you a theory that deceased died from the effects of poison?"
"Certain appearances pointed to such a conclusion," the doctor
responded. "Personally, before making the post-mortem, I suspected
prussic acid; but all tests failed to detect any trace of such
deleterious matter."
"Of course," said the Coroner, who was also a medical man of wide
experience, clearing his throat, as he turned to the jury, "the presence
of poison can be very easily discovered, and the fact that the analyses
have failed must necessarily add mystery to this case."
"Having failed to find poison," continued the doctor, "we naturally
turned our attention to other causes which might result fatally."
"And what did you find?" inquired the Coroner eagerly, his pen poised in
his hand.
"Nothing!" the witness answered. "Absolutely nothing."
"Then you are quite unable to account for death?"
"Utterly. Several of the circumstances are suspicious of foul play, but
we have found not the slightest trace of it. The marks upon the elbows
are very curious indeed--circular white scars--but they have, of course,
nothing to do with Mr Morgan's sudden death," I recollected the portion
of charred paper which I had picked up, the discovery of the
glove-button, and its connection with the tiny scrap of black chiffon.
Yes, there was no doubt that he had had a visitor between the time that
Ash went out to meet the mysterious woman at King's Cross and the moment
of his death.
"The affair seems enveloped in a certain amount of mystery," observed
the Coroner to the jury after the doctor had signed his depositions.
"You have the whole of the evidence before you--that of the valet, the
friend of deceased who discovered him, the police who have searched the
chambers, and the doctor who made the post-mortem. In summing up the
whole we find that the unfortunate gentleman died mysteriously--very
mysteriously--but to nothing the medical men have discovered could they
assign the cause of death. It would certainly appear, from the fact
that a portion of a woman's dress-trimming was discovered in the dead
man's clenched hand, that he had a secret visitor, and that she desired
to escape while he wished her to remain. Yet there was no sign of a
struggle in the rooms, and no one saw any person enter or leave. Again,
we have it in evidence that deceased, at the hour of his death, sent a
message to some unknown lady whom his valet had instructions to meet on
the railway platform at King's Cross. This meeting had undoubtedly been
pre-arranged, and the lady expected the unfortunate gentleman to keep
it. Perhaps watching from a distance, and not seeing Mr Morgan, she
did not approach the clock, and hence the valet did not give her the
mysterious blank and unaddressed letter. After this, the suggestion
naturally occurs whether or not this same lady visited Mr Morgan in the
absence of his valet. She may have done, or may not. But in this Court
we have nothing to do with theories. It is your duty, gentlemen of the
jury, to say whether this gentleman actually died from natural causes,
or whether by suicide or foul means. We must recollect that the police
have discovered what may eventually throw some light on the affair,
namely, the fact that a cheque is missing from deceased's cheque-book,
leaving the counterfoil blank. By means of that cheque it is just
possible that the identity of the unknown person who visited Mr Morgan
may be established. I think, gentlemen," continued the Coroner, after a
pause, "I think you will agree with me that in these strange
circumstances it would be unwise to go further into the matter. By
exposing all the evidence the police have in their possession we might
possibly defeat our inquiry; therefore I ask you whether you will return
a verdict that the death of this gentleman has resulted from natural
causes, or whether you think it wiser to return an open verdict of
`Found dead,' and leave all further inquiries in the hands of the
police."
Those in Court stirred again uneasily. There had been breathless
silence while the Coroner had been speaking save for the rustling of the
paper and "flimsies" used by the reporters, and the departure of one or
two uniformed messenger-lads carrying "copy" to the evening journals for
use in their special editions.
The foreman of the jury turned to his fellow-jurymen and inquired
whether they desired to consult in private. But all were of one
opinion, and without leaving the room returned a verdict of "Found
dead." At the club that night everybody read the evening papers, and in
the smoking-room everybody propounded his own view of the mystery. Some
were of opinion that their friend had fallen a victim of foul play,
while others who, like myself, had noticed his recent depressed spirits
and inert attitude, were inclined to think that he had taken his own
life in a fit of despondency. They declared that he had sent Ash out on
a fool's errand in order to be alone, and that the blank note was really
nothing at all. The only argument against that theory was the fact that
I had found the door leading to his chambers open. This was
incompatible with the idea that he had deliberately taken his own life.
As the person who had made the startling discovery, I was, of course,
questioned on every hand regarding all the minor details of the terrible
scene. The men who held the opinion that he had been murdered desired
to make out that the furniture had been disturbed, but having very
carefully noted everything, I was able to flatly contradict them. Thus
the evening passed with that one single subject under discussion--the
murder of the man who had been so popular amongst us, and whom we had
all held in such high esteem.
Next morning, near noon, while reading the paper beside my own fire,
Simes entered, saying--
"There's Ash, sir, would like to see you."
"Show him in," I exclaimed at once, casting the paper aside, and an
instant later the dead man's valet made his appearance, pale and
agitated.
"Well, Ash," I said, "what's the matter?"
"I'm a bit upset, sir; that's all." And he panted from the effort of
ascending the stairs. Therefore, I motioned him to a seat.
"Well, have the police visited your master's rooms again?"
"No, sir. They haven't been again," he replied. "But I made a thorough
examination last night, and I wish you'd come round with me, if you'd be
so kind, sir. I know you were my master's best friend, and I'm sure you
won't let this affair rest, will you?"
"Certainly not," I answered in surprise. "But why do you wish me to go
with you?"
"I want to ask your opinion on something."
"What have you discovered?"
"Well, sir, I don't know whether it is a discovery, or not. But I'd
like you to see it," he said, full of nervous impatience.
Therefore, I called Simes to bring my hat and coat, and we went out
together, taking a cab along to poor Roddy's chambers. They seemed
strangely silent and deserted now, as we let ourselves in with the
latch-key. No cheery voice welcomed me from the sitting-room within,
and there was no odour of Egyptian cigarettes or overnight cigars; no
fire in the grate, for all was cheerless and rendered the more funereal
because of the darkness of the rainy day.
"This morning," explained Ash, "when I thought I had made a thorough
examination of the whole place last night, I chanced to be taking a turn
around this room and made a discovery which seems to me very
remarkable." Then, pointing, he went on: "You see in that cabinet
there's some old china."
"Yes," I answered, for some of the pieces were very choice, and I had
often envied them.
"From where we stand here we can see a small casket of chased brass--
Indian work, I think he called it."
"Certainly."
"Well, now, I chanced to pass this, and a thought occurred to me that
I'd look what was in that box. I did so, and when I saw, I closed it up
again and came to you to get your opinion."
With that he opened the glass doors of the cabinet, took forth the
little casket and opened it.
Inside there was nothing but ashes. They were white ashes, similar to
those I had found in my own rooms after Aline had departed!
"Good God!" I gasped, scarcely believing my own eyes. "What was in
this box before?"
"When I opened it last week, sir, there was a rosary, such as the Roman
Catholics use. It belonged to my master's grandmother, he once told me.
She was a Catholic."
I turned the ashes over in my hand. Yes, there was no doubt whatever
that it had been a rosary, for although the beads were consumed yet the
tiny lengths of wire which had run through them remained unmelted, but
had been blackened and twisted by the heat. There was one small lump of
metal about the size of a bean, apparently silver, and that I judged to
have been the little crucifix appended.
"It's extraordinary!" I said, bewildered, when I reflected that this
fact lent additional colour to my vague theory that Aline might have
visited Roddy before his death. "It's most extraordinary!"
"Yes, sir, it is," Ash replied. "But what makes it the more peculiar is
the fact that about a year ago I found a little pile of ashes very
similar to these when I went one morning to dust the master's
dressing-table. He always kept a little pocket Testament there, but it
had gone, and only the ashes remained in its place. I called him, and
when he saw them he seemed very upset, and said--`Take them out of my
sight, Ash! Take them away! It's the Devil's work!'"
"Yes," I observed. "This is indeed the Devil's work."
The mystery surrounding the tragic affair increased hourly.
I examined the brass box, and upon the lid saw a strange discolouration.
It was the mark of a finger--perhaps the mark of that mysterious hand,
the touch of which had the potency to consume the object with which it
came in contact. I placed the box back upon the table, and could not
resist the strange chill which crept over me. The mystery was a more
uncanny one than I had ever heard of.
"Now tell me, Ash," I said at last. "Did your master ever entertain any
lady visitors here?"
"Very seldom, sir," the man answered. "His married sister, Lady Hilgay,
used to come sometimes, and once or twice his aunt, the Duchess, called,
but beyond those I don't recollect any lady here for certainly twelve
months past."
"Some might have called when you were absent, of course," I remarked.
"They might," he said; "but I don't think they did."
"Have you ever seen any letters that you've posted addressed to a lady
named Cloud?"