THE TAXI-CAB DRIVER
Mr. Tertius bought a copy of the newspaper, and standing aside on the
pavement, read with much interest and surprise the story which
Triffitt's keen appetite for news and ready craftsmanship in writing had
so quickly put together. Happening to glance up from the paper in the
course of his reading, he observed that several other people were
similarly employed. The truth was that Triffitt had headed his column:
"MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF MR. HERAPATH, M.P. IS IT SUICIDE OR MURDER?"--and
as this also appeared in great staring letters on the contents bills
which the newsboys were carrying about with them, and as Herapath had
been well known in that district, there was a vast amount of interest
aroused thereabouts by the news. Indeed, people were beginning to
chatter on the sidewalks, and at the doors of the shops. And as Mr.
Tertius turned away in the direction of Portman Square, he heard one
excited bystander express a candid opinion.
"Suicide?" exclaimed this man, thrusting his paper into the hands of a
companion. "Not much! Catch old Jacob Herapath at that game--he was a
deuced deal too fond of life and money! Murder, sir--murder!--that's the
ticket--murder!"
Mr. Tertius went slowly homeward, head bent and eyes moody. He let
himself into the house; at the sound of his step in the hall Peggie
Wynne looked out of the study. She retreated into it at sight of Mr.
Tertius, and he followed her and closed the door. Looking narrowly at
her, he saw that the girl had been shedding tears, and he laid his hand
shyly yet sympathetically on her arm. "Yes," he said quietly, "I've been
feeling like that ever since--since I heard about things. But I don't
know--I suppose we shall feel it more when--when we realize it more, eh?
Just now there's the other thing to think about, isn't there?"
Peggie mopped her eyes and looked at him. He was such a quiet,
unobtrusive, inoffensive old gentleman that she wondered more than ever
why Barthorpe had refused to admit him to the informal conference.
"What other thing?" she asked.
Mr. Tertius looked round the room--strangely empty now that Jacob
Herapath's bustling and strenuous presence was no longer in it--and
shook his head.
"There's one thought you mustn't permit yourself to harbour for a moment,
my dear," he answered. "Don't even for a fraction of time allow yourself
to think that my old friend took his own life! That's--impossible."
"I don't," said Peggie. "I never did think so. It is, as you say,
impossible. I knew him too well to believe that. So, of course,
it's----"
"Murder," assented Mr. Tertius. "Murder! I heard a man in the street
voice the same opinion just now. Of course! It's the only opinion. Yet
in the newspaper they're asking which it was. But I suppose the
newspapers must be--sensational."
"You don't mean to say it's in the newspapers already?" exclaimed
Peggie.
Mr. Tertius handed to her the _Argus_ special, which he had carried
crumpled up in his hand.
"Everybody's reading it out there in the streets," he said. "It's
extraordinary, now, how these affairs seem to fascinate people.
Yes--it's all there. That is, of course, as far as it's gone."
"How did the paper people come to know all this?" asked Peggie, glancing
rapidly over Triffitt's leaded lines.
"I suppose they got it from the police," replied Mr. Tertius. "I don't
know much about such matters, but I believe the police and the Press are
in constant touch. Of course, it's well they should be--it attracts
public notice. And in cases like this, public notice is an excellent
thing. We shall have to hear--and find out--a good deal before we get at
the truth in this case, my dear."
Peggie suddenly flung down the newspaper and looked inquiringly at the
old man.
"Mr. Tertius," she said abruptly, "why wouldn't Barthorpe let you come
into that room down there at the office this morning?"
Mr. Tertius did not answer this direct question at once. He walked away
to the window and stood looking out into the square for a while. When
at last he spoke his voice was singularly even and colourless. He might
have been discussing a question on which it was impossible to feel any
emotion.
"I really cannot positively say, my dear," he replied. "I have known, of
course, for some time that Mr. Barthorpe Herapath is not well disposed
towards me. I have observed a certain coldness, a contempt, on his part.
I have been aware that he has resented my presence in this house. And I
suppose he felt that as I am not a member of the family, I had no right
to sit in council with him and with you."
"Not a member of the family!" exclaimed Peggie. "Why, you came here soon
after I came--all those years ago!"
"I have dwelt under Jacob Herapath's roof, in this house, fifteen
years," said Mr. Tertius, reflectively. "Fifteen years!--yes. Yes--Jacob
and I were--good friends."
As he spoke the last word a tear trickled from beneath Mr. Tertius's
spectacles and ran down into his beard, and Peggie, catching sight of
it, impulsively jumped from her seat and kissed him affectionately.
"Never mind, Mr. Tertius!" she said, patting his shoulders. "You and I
are friends, too, anyway. I don't like Barthorpe when he's like that--I
hate that side of him. And anyhow, Barthorpe doesn't matter--to me. I
don't suppose he matters to anything--except himself."
Mr. Tertius gravely shook his head.
"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath may matter a great deal, my dear," he remarked.
"He is a very forceful person. I do not know what provision my poor
friend may have made, but Barthorpe, you will remember, is his nephew,
and, I believe, his only male relative. And in that case----"
Mr. Tertius was just then interrupted by the entrance of a footman who
came in and looked inquiringly at Peggie.
"There's a taxi-cab driver at the door, miss," he announced. "He says he
would like to speak to some one about the news in the paper about--about
the master, miss."
Peggie looked at Mr. Tertius. And Mr. Tertius quickly made a sign to the
footman.
"Bring the man in at once," he commanded. And, as if to lose no time, he
followed the footman into the hall, and at once returned, conducting a
young man who carried a copy of the _Argus_ in his hand. "Yes?" he said,
closing the door behind them and motioning the man to a seat. "You wish
to tell us something! This lady is Miss Wynne--Mr. Herapath's niece. You
can tell us anything you think of importance. Do you know anything,
then?"
The taxi-cab driver lifted the _Argus_.
"This here newspaper, sir," he answered. "I've just been reading of
it--about Mr. Herapath, sir."
"Yes," said Mr. Tertius gently. "Yes?"
"Well, sir--strikes me as how I drove him, sir, this morning," answered
the driver. "Gentleman of his appearance, anyway, sir--that's a fact!"
Mr. Tertius glanced at Peggie, who was intently watching the caller.
"Ah!" he said, turning again to the driver, "you think you drove either
Mr. Herapath or a gentleman of his appearance this morning. You did not
know Mr. Herapath by sight, then?"
"No, sir. I've only just come into this part--came for the first time
yesterday. But I'm as certain----"
"Just tell us all about it," said Mr. Tertius, interrupting him. "Tell
us in your own way. Everything, you know."
"Ain't so much to tell, sir," responded the driver. "All the same,
soon's I'd seen this piece in the paper just now I said to myself, 'I'd
best go round to Portman Square and tell what I do know,' I says. And
it's like this, sir--I come on this part yesterday--last night it was.
My taxi belongs to a man as keeps half a dozen, and he put me on to
night work, this end of Oxford Street. Well, it 'ud be just about a
quarter to two this morning when a tall, well-built gentleman comes out
of Orchard Street and made for my cab. I jumps down and opens the door
for him. 'You know St. Mary Abbot's Church, Kensington?' he says as he
got in. 'Drive me down there and pull up at the gate.' So, of course, I
ran him down, and there he got out, give me five bob, and off he went.
That's it, sir."
"And when he got out, which way did he go?" asked Mr. Tertius.
"West, sir--along the High Street, past the Town Hall," promptly
answered the driver. "And there he crossed the road. I see him cross,
because I stopped there a minute or two after he'd got out, tinkering at
my engine."
"Can you tell us what this gentleman was like in appearance?" asked Mr.
Tertius.
"Well, sir, not so much as regards his face," answered the driver. "I
didn't look at him, not particular, in that way--besides, he was wearing
one of them overcoats with a big fur collar to it, and he'd the collar
turned high up about his neck and cheeks, and his hat--one of them
slouched, soft hats, like so many gentlemen wears nowadays sir--was well
pulled down. But from what bit I see of him, sir, I should say he was a
fresh-coloured gentleman."
"Tall and well built, you say?" observed Mr. Tertius.
"Yes, sir--fine-made gentleman--pretty near six feet, I should have
called him," replied the driver. "Little bit inclined to stoutness,
like."
Mr. Tertius turned to Peggie.
"I believe you have some recent photographs of Mr. Herapath," he said.
"You might fetch them and let me see if our friend here can recognize
them. You didn't notice anything else about your fare?" he went on,
after Peggie had left the room. "Anything that excited your attention,
eh?"
The driver, after examining the pattern of the carpet for one minute and
studying the ceiling for another, slowly shook his head. But he then
suddenly started into something like activity.
"Yes, there was, sir, now I come to think of it!" he exclaimed. "I
hadn't thought of it until now, but now you mention it, there was. I
noticed he'd a particularly handsome diamond ring on his left hand--an
extra fine one, too, it was."
"Ah!" said Mr. Tertius. "A very fine diamond ring on his left hand? Now,
how did you come to see that?"
"He rested that hand on the side of the door as he was getting in, sir,
and I noticed how it flashed," answered the driver. "There was a lamp
right against us, you see, sir."
"I see," said Mr. Tertius. "He wasn't wearing gloves, then?"
"He hadn't a glove on that hand, sir. He was carrying some papers in
it--a sort of little roll of papers."
"Ah!" murmured Mr. Tertius. "A diamond ring--and a little roll of
papers." He got up from his chair and put a hand in his pocket. "Now, my
friend," he went on, chinking some coins as he withdrew it, "you haven't
told this to any one else, I suppose?"
"No, sir," answered the driver. "Came straight here, sir."
"There's a couple of sovereigns for your trouble," said Mr. Tertius,
"and there'll be more for you if you do what I tell you to do. At
present--that is, until I give you leave--don't say a word of this to a
soul. Not even to the police--yet. In fact, not a word to them until I
say you may. Keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it--I shall
know where to find you. If you want me, keep an eye open for me in the
square outside, or in the street. When the young lady comes back with
the photographs, don't mention the ring to her. This is a very queer
business, and I don't want too much said just yet. Do as I tell you, and
I'll see you're all right. Understand?"
The driver pocketed his sovereigns, and touched his forehead with a
knowing look.
"All right, sir," he said. "I understand. Depend on me, sir--I shan't
say a word without your leave."
Peggie came in just then with a half a dozen cabinet photographs in her
hand. One by one she exhibited them to the driver.
"Do you recognize any of these?" she asked.
The driver shook his head doubtingly until Peggie showed him a
half-length of her uncle in outdoor costume. Then his eyes lighted up.
"Couldn't swear as to the features, miss," he exclaimed. "But I'd take
my 'davy about the coat and the hat! That's what the gentleman was
wearing as I drove this morning--take my Gospel oath on it."
"He recognizes the furred overcoat and the soft hat," murmured Mr.
Tertius. "Very good--very good! All right, my man--we are much obliged
to you."
He went out into the hall with the driver, and had another word in
secret with him before the footman opened the door. As the door closed
Mr. Tertius turned slowly back to the study. And as he turned he
muttered a word or two and smiled cynically.
"A diamond ring!" he said. "Jacob Herapath never wore a diamond ring in
his life!"