I
Mr. Grimwood, of the firm of Grimwood, Galton & Davy, insurance
assessors, looked up from the list in his hand. He was a shrewd
little man, with side-whiskers, pince-nez that would never sit
straight upon his aquiline nose, and an impressive cough.
He glanced from Malcolm Sage to young Glanedale, then back again to
Malcolm Sage; finally he coughed.
The three men were seated in Sir Roger Glanedale's library awaiting
the coming of Lady Glanedale.
"And yet Mr. Glanedale heard nothing," remarked Mr. Grimwood
musingly. "Strange, very strange."
"Are you in the habit of sitting smoking at your bedroom window?"
enquired Malcolm Sage of Glanedale, his eyes averted.
"Er--no, not exactly," was the hesitating response.
"Can you remember when last you did such a thing?" was the next
question.
"I'm afraid I can't," said Glanedale, with an uneasy laugh.
"Perhaps you had seen something that puzzled you," continued Malcolm
Sage, his restless fingers tracing an imaginary design upon the
polished surface of the table before him.
Glanedale was silent. He fingered his moustache with a nervous hand.
Mr. Grimwood looked across at Malcolm Sage curiously.
"And you were watching in the hope of seeing something more,"
continued Malcolm Sage.
"I----" began Glanedale, starting violently, then he stopped.
"Don't you think you had better tell us exactly what it was you
saw," said Malcolm Sage, raising a pair of gold-rimmed eyes that
mercilessly beat down the uneasy gaze of the young man.
"I--I didn't say I saw anything."
"It is for you to decide, Mr. Glanedale," said Malcolm Sage, with
an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulders, "whether it is
better to tell your story now, or under cross-examination in the
witness-box. There you will be under oath, and the proceedings will
be public."
At that moment Lady Glanedale entered, and the three men rose.
"I am sorry to interrupt you," she said coldly, "but Sir Roger has
just telephoned and wishes to speak to Mr. Glanedale."
"I fear we shall have to keep Sir Roger waiting," said Malcolm Sage,
walking over to the door and closing it.
Lady Glanedale looked at him in surprise.
"I do not understand," she began.
"You will immediately," said Malcolm Sage quietly. "We were just
discussing the robbery." He slightly stressed the word "robbery."
"Really----" began Lady Glanedale.
"Mr. Glanedale was sitting at his window smoking," continued Malcolm
Sage evenly. "He cannot remember ever having done such a thing
before. I suggested that something unusual had attracted his
attention, and that he was waiting to see what would follow. I was
just about to tell him what had attracted his attention when you
entered, Lady Glanedale."
Glanedale looked across at his step-mother and then at Malcolm Sage.
His misery was obvious.
"Last night, soon after twelve," continued Malcolm Sage, "Mr.
Glanedale happened to look out of his window and was surprised to
see a figure moving along towards the left. It was not the figure of
a man with a handkerchief tied across his face as a mask; but a
woman. He watched. He saw it pause beneath the second window of your
bedroom, Lady Glanedale, not the one by which the burglar entered.
Then it stooped down."
Malcolm Sage's fingers seemed to be tracing each movement of the
mysterious figure upon the surface of the table. Lady Glanedale
gazed at his long, shapely hands as if hypnotised.
"Presently," he continued, "it returned to the first window, where
it was occupied for some minutes. Mr. Glanedale could not see this;
but the figure was engaged in making footprints and marking the
sides of the water-pipe with a shoe or boot as high up as it could
reach. It----"
"How dare you make such an accusation!" cried Lady Glanedale, making
an effort to rise; but she sank back again in her chair, her face
plaster-white.
"I have made no accusation," said Malcolm Sage quietly. "I am
telling what Mr. Glanedale saw."
A hunted look sprang to Lady Glanedale's eyes. She tore her eyes
from those magnetic fingers and gazed about her wildly as if
meditating flight. Her throat seemed as if made of leather.
"Would you be prepared to deny all this in the witness-box under
oath, Mr. Glanedale?" enquired Malcolm Sage.
Glanedale looked at him with unseeing eyes, then across at his
step-mother.
"The woman had put on a pair of men's boots that the footprints
might be masculine. They were so much too large for her that she had
to drag her feet along the ground. The boots were those of a man
weighing, say, about eleven and a half stone; the weight inside
those boots shown by the impression in the mould was little more
than seven stone."
Lady Glanedale put out her hand as if to ward off a blow; but
Malcolm Sage continued mercilessly, addressing Glanedale.
"The length of a man's stride is thirty inches; between these steps
the space was less than fifteen inches. Skirts are worn very
narrow."
He paused, then, as Lady Glanedale made no reply, he turned to
Glanedale.
"I asked you this morning," he said, "to climb the other pipe for
the double purpose of examining the impress of your boots on the
mould as you left the ground and when you dropped back again on to
the mould. Also to see what sort of marks a pair of leather boots
would make upon the weatherworn paint of the pipe.
"As you sprang from the ground and clutched the pipe, there was a
deep impress on the mould of the soles of both boots, deep at the
toes and tapering off towards the heel. On your return you made
distinct heel-marks as well."
Lady Glanedale had buried her face in her hands. She must blot out
the sight of those terrible hands! Glanedale sat with his eyes upon
Malcolm Sage as if hypnotised.
"There was a shower of rain last night about twelve, an hour before
the alleged burglar arrived; yet the footprints were made before the
rain fell. In two cases leaves had been trodden into the footprints;
yet on these leaves were drops of rain just as they had fallen."
The hands seemed to draw the leaves and indicate the spots of water
as if they had been blood. Glanedale shuddered involuntarily.
"In the centre-part of the pipe there were no marks, although there
were light scratches for as high up as the arm of a short person
could reach, and as far down from the bedroom window as a similar
arm could stretch. These scratches were quite dissimilar from those
made on the other pipe."
Lady Glanedale moaned something unintelligible.
"Although there had been a shower and the mould was wet," proceeded
Malcolm Sage, "there were no marks of mud or mould on the pipe, on
the window-sill, or in Lady Glanedale's bedroom, which, I understand,
had purposely not been swept. A man had slid down that water-pipe;
yet he had done so without so much as removing the surface dust from
the paint.
"He had reached the ground as lightly as a fairy, without making any
mark upon the mould; the footprints were merely those of someone
approaching and walking from the pipe."
Glanedale drew a cigarette case from his pocket; opened it, took out
a cigarette, then, hesitating a moment, replaced it, and returned
the case to his pocket, his eyes all the time on Malcolm Sage.
"I think," continued Malcolm Sage, "we shall find that the burglar
has buried the jewel-case a few yards to the right of the pipe he is
supposed to have climbed." His forefinger touched a spot on the
extreme right of the table. "There are indications that the mould
has been disturbed. Incidentally a trowel is missing----"
Glanedale suddenly sprang to his feet, just as Lady Glanedale fell
forward in her chair--she had fainted.
II
"It's a very unpleasant business," remarked Mr. Goodge, the General
Manager of the Twentieth Century Insurance Company, as he looked up
from reading a paper that Malcolm Sage had just handed to him. In it
Lady Glanedale confessed the fraud she had sought to practise upon
the Corporation. "A very unpleasant business," he repeated.
Malcolm Sage gazed down at his finger-nails, as if the matter had no
further interest for him. When his brain was inactive, his hands
were at rest.
"I don't know what view the Board will take," continued Mr. Goodge,
as Malcolm Sage made no comment.
"They will probably present me with another walking-stick," he
remarked indifferently.
Mr. Goodge laughed. Malcolm Sage's walking-stick had been a standing
joke between them.
"What made you first suspect Lady Glanedale?" he enquired.
"She had omitted to rehearse the episode of the burglary, and
consequently when it came to reconstructing the incident, she failed
in a very important particular." Malcolm Sage paused.
"What was that?" enquired Mr. Goodge with interest, as he pushed a
box of cigars towards Malcolm Sage, who, however, shaking his head,
proceeded to fill his pipe.
"She had already told me that the key of the safe was always kept
beneath a pile of handkerchiefs in one of the drawers of her
dressing-table; yet when I asked her to go through exactly the same
movements and actions as when the burglar entered her room, she rose
direct from the bed and went to the safe. The dressing-table was at
the other end of the room, and to get to it she would have had to
pass the spot where she said the man was standing."
Mr. Goodge nodded his head appreciatively.
"The next point was that I discovered it was Lady Glanedale who
suggested to the police inspector that means should be taken to
prevent anyone approaching the water-pipe by which the man was
supposed to have climbed. She was anxious that the footprints should
be preserved.
"Another point was that young Glanedale happened to remark that his
step-mother was much addicted to bridge, and that the stakes were
too high to admit of his joining in. Also that men who have
themselves accumulated their wealth know the value of money. Sir
Roger disliked bridge and probably kept his lady short."
"Most likely," agreed Mr. Goodge. "He has the reputation of being a
bit shrewd in money matters. When did you begin to suspect Lady
Glanedale?"
"From the first," was the reply. "Everything rang false. Lady
Glanedale's story suggested that it had been rehearsed until she had
it by heart," continued Malcolm Sage. "It was too straightforward,
too clearly expressed for the story of a woman who had just lost
eight thousand pounds' worth of jewels. When I put questions to her
she hesitated before replying, as if mentally comparing her intended
answer with what she had already told.
"Then she was so practical in preparing a list of the lost jewels at
once, and in warning her stepson not to go near the spot beneath her
window, as there might be footprints; this at a time when she was
supposed to be in a state of great excitement."
"Did you suspect young Glanedale at all?" queried Mr. Grimwood.
"No," said Malcolm Sage, "but to make quite sure I cast doubt upon
the possibility of anyone climbing the pipe. If he had been
concerned he would not have volunteered to prove I was wrong."
"True," said Mr. Goodge as he examined critically the glowing end of
his cigar. "Lady Glanedale seems to have done the job very clumsily,
now that you have explained everything."
"Even the professional criminal frequently underrates the
intelligence of those whose business it is to frustrate him; but
Lady Glanedale's efforts in marking the water-pipe would not have
deceived a child. A powerful magnifying-glass will show that on all
such exterior pipes there is an accumulation of dust, which would be
removed from a large portion of the surface by anyone climbing
either up or down. Lady Glanedale had thought marks made by a boot
or a shoe would be sufficient confirmation of her story. She is
rather a stupid woman," he added, as he rose to go.
"I suppose she got the idea from the Comminge affair?"
"Undoubtedly," was the response; "but as I say, she is a stupid
woman. Vanity in crime is fatal; it leads the criminal to underrate
the intelligence of others. Lady Glanedale is intensely vain."
"The Board will probably want to thank you personally," said Mr.
Goodge as he shook hands; "but I'll try and prevent them from giving
you another walking-stick," he laughed as he opened the door.