Mr. Sheringham Asks a Question
“Now, gentlemen,” said the inspector, when the four of them were
seated in the morning room, “there is a certain amount of routine work
for me to do, though it may strike you as unimportant.” He smiled
slightly towards Roger.
“Not a bit,” said that gentleman quickly. “I’m extraordinarily
interested in all this. You’ve no idea how useful it will be if I ever
want to write a detective novel.”
“Well, the chief thing I want to know,” the inspector resumed, “is who
was the last person to see the deceased alive. Now when did you see
him last, Major Jefferson?”
“About an hour and a half after dinner. Say ten o’clock. He was
smoking in the garden with Mr. Sheringham, and I wanted to ask him
something about the arrangements for to-day.”
“That’s right,” Roger nodded. “I remember. It was a few minutes past
ten. The church clock in the village had just struck.”
“And what did you want to ask him?”
“Oh, nothing very important. Only what time he wanted the car in the
morning, if at all. But I usually made a point of seeing him about
that time every evening, in case he had any instructions to give me
for the following day.”
“I see. And what did he tell you?”
“That he wouldn’t be wanting the car this morning at all.”
“And did he seem quite normal? Not agitated or upset in any way?
Perfectly ordinary?”
“Perfectly.”
“And had been all day? At dinner, for instance?”
“Certainly. He was in a very good temper at dinner, as a matter of
fact.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked the inspector quickly. “Wasn’t he
usually in a good temper?”
“Oh, yes. Usually. But like most strong-minded, self-willed men he
could be thoroughly unpleasant if he chose.”
“Now in the course of your duties as his secretary, has it come to
your notice whether he has had any bad news lately? Either financial
or otherwise?”
“No.”
“Would you have known if he had?”
“I doubt it. If it had been financial, he might have told me, as I
frequently had to write letters for him regarding his investments and
so forth. But otherwise I am quite sure he would not. Mr. Stanworth
was very reticent indeed about his personal affairs.”
“I see. He was comfortably off, wasn’t he?”
“Very. You might call it more than that.”
“Rich, in fact. And how were his investments laid out? Did he, for
instance, put most of his money into one concern?”
“You mean, was he in a position to be ruined by the failure of any
single business? No, I’m sure he wasn’t. His money was spread over a
large number of investments; and to my certain knowledge he still has
a very large sum indeed in Government stock.”
“Then we can take it as fairly sure that, whatever caused him to take
his life, it was nothing to do with money matters?”
“Yes, I’m quite convinced of that.”
“Then we must look elsewhere. Now, had Mr. Stanworth any relations
besides his sister-in-law?”
“Not to my knowledge, and I’ve been with him six years. He had a
younger brother, of course, Lady Stanworth’s husband; but I’ve never
heard of any others.”
“I see. Well, Major Jefferson, am I to take it that you can’t throw
any light at all on the reasons for Mr. Stanworth’s suicide? Think
carefully, if you please. Suicide is a pretty serious step, and the
reasons must be correspondingly serious. The coroner is bound to do
his best to bring them to light.”
“I haven’t the least idea,” said Jefferson quietly. “It is the last
thing in the world I should have expected from Mr. Stanworth.”
The inspector turned to Roger. “Now, sir, you were in the garden with
him last evening at ten. What happened after that?”
“Oh, we didn’t stay out very long after that. Not more than twenty
minutes, I should say. I had some work to do, and we went in
together.”
“What were you talking about in the garden?”
“Roses chiefly. He was very keen on roses and took a lot of interest
in the rose garden here.”
“Did he seem cheerful?”
“Very. He always struck me as an exceptionally cheerful person.
Genial, in fact.”
“Did anything he said lead you to think that he might be contemplating
taking his life? Not at the time, of course; but looking back on it.
No casual remark, or anything like that?”
“Good heavens, no! On the contrary, he talked quite a lot about the
future. What part of the country he was going to stay in next year,
and that sort of thing.”
“I see. Well, what happened when you went in?”
“We met Mrs. Plant in the hall, and he stopped to speak to her. I went
on to the drawing room to get a book I’d left there. When I came back
they were still in the hall talking. I said good-night to both of them
and went on up to my room. That was the last I saw of him.”
“Thank you. Then you can’t help, either?”
“Not in the least, I’m afraid. The whole thing beats me completely.”
The inspector looked at Alec. “And you, sir? When did you see him
last?”
Alec considered. “I hardly saw him after dinner at all, Inspector.
That is, I didn’t speak to him; but I caught a glimpse of him once or
twice in the garden with Mr. Sheringham.”
“You were in the garden, too?”
“Yes.”
“What were you doing?”
Alec blushed. “Well, I was——That is——”
Roger came to his rescue. “Mr. Grierson and Miss Shannon, whom you
have not yet had the pleasure of meeting, became engaged yesterday,
Inspector,” he said gravely, but with a side-long wink.
The inspector smiled genially. “Then I don’t think we need enquire
what Mr. Grierson was doing in the garden last night,” he remarked
jovially. “Or Miss Shannon, for that matter, when I come to question
her later. And you can’t help us either in any other direction?”
“I’m afraid not, Inspector. I really knew very little of Mr. Stanworth
in any case. I only met him for the first time when I arrived here
three days ago.”
Inspector Mansfield rose to his feet. “Well, I think that is all I
have to ask you, gentlemen. After all, even if we can’t find out what
his reasons were, the case is clear enough. The door and all the
windows locked on the inside; the revolver in his hand, which the
doctor says must have been there during life; to say nothing of his
own statement. I don’t think the coroner will take very long to arrive
at his verdict.”
“What about the inquest?” Roger asked. “Shall we be wanted?”
“You and Mr. Grierson will be, and the other person who was present
when the door was broken in—the butler, wasn’t it? And of course
yourself, Major, and Lady Stanworth; and the last person to see him
alive. Who else is there in the party? Mrs. and Miss Shannon and Mrs.
Plant? Well, I don’t think they will be required, unless they have any
further information of importance. Still, the coroner will notify whom
he wants to attend.”
“And the inquest will be to-morrow?” Major Jefferson asked.
“Probably. In a case as simple as this there is no point in delay. And
now, Major, I wonder if I might have a word with Lady Stanworth down
here. And I wish you’d look round and see if you can hit on the code
for that safe. I could get it from the makers, of course, if
necessary; but I don’t want to have to do that unless I must.”
Major Jefferson nodded. “I’ll try,” he said briefly. “And I’ll send
one of the maids to tell Lady Stanworth. She’s in her room.”
He rang the bell, and Roger and Alec strolled over to the door.
“And you might warn the others in the household not to leave the
premises till I have seen them,” they heard the inspector say as they
passed through it. “I shall have to interrogate everyone, of course.”
Roger drew Alec into the dining room and thence out into the garden.
They reached the middle of the lawn before he spoke.
“Alec,” he said seriously, “what do you make of it all?”
“Make of what?” asked Alec.
“Make of what?” Roger repeated scornfully. “Why, the whole blessed
business, of course. Alec, you’re uncommonly slow in the up-take.
Can’t you see that Jefferson is hiding something for all he’s worth?”
“He did seem a bit reticent, certainly,” Alec agreed cautiously.
“Reticent? Why, if that fellow’s telling one tenth of what he knows I
should be surprised. And what about Mrs. Plant? And why doesn’t
anybody know the combination of that safe? I tell you, there are
wheels within wheels going on here.”
Alec threw caution to the winds. “It _is_ curious,” he admitted
recklessly.
Roger was intent on his own thoughts. “And why was Jefferson searching
Mr. Stanworth’s pockets?” he demanded suddenly. “Oh, but of course,
that’s obvious enough.”
“I’m dashed if it is. Why was he?”
“To find the keys of the safe, I suppose. What else could it be? For
some reason or other Jefferson is all against having that safe opened.
By the police, at any rate. And so is Mrs. Plant. Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Alec helplessly.
“Nor do I! That’s just the annoying part. I hate things I don’t
understand. Always have done. It’s a sort of challenge to get to the
bottom of them.”
“Are you going to get to the bottom of this?” Alec smiled.
“If there’s a bottom to get to,” said Roger defiantly. “So don’t grin
in that infernally sarcastic way. Dash it all, aren’t you curious?”
Alec hesitated. “Yes, I am in a way. But after all, it doesn’t seem to
be our business, does it?”
“That remains to be seen. What I want to find out is—whose business is
it? At present it seems to be everybody’s.”
“And are you going to tell the police anything?”
“No; I’m hanged if I am,” said Roger with conviction. “I don’t mind
whose business it is; but it isn’t theirs. Not yet, anyway,” he added
with a touch of grimness.
Alec was plainly startled. “Good Lord! You don’t think it might be
eventually, do you?”
“I’m blessed if I know what to think! By the way, reverting to
Jefferson, you remember when I found those ashes in the hearth and
suggested that they might be the remains of those mysterious private
documents Jefferson had been hinting about? Well, did it appear to you
that he looked uncommonly relieved for the moment?”
Alec reflected. “I don’t think I was looking at him just then.”
“Well, I was. And I made the suggestion on purpose, to see how he’d
take it. I’d take my oath that the idea appealed to him immensely. Now
why? And what’s he got to do with Mr. Stanworth’s private papers?”
“But look here, you know,” said Alec slowly, “if he really was hiding
something, as you seem to think, surely he wouldn’t go and give the
whole show away by telling us straight out like that what sort of
thing it is that he’s hiding? I mean, if he really is hiding something
he’d mention papers to put us off the scent, wouldn’t he? Really, I
mean, it would be something quite different. What I mean is——”
“It’s all right. I’m beginning to get an idea of what you mean,” said
Roger kindly. “But seriously, Alec, that’s rather an idea of yours.
After all, Jefferson isn’t the man to give himself away, is he?”
“No,” said Alec earnestly. “You see, what I mean is——”
“Hullo!” Roger interrupted rudely. “There’s the inspector going down
the drive. And without Jefferson, by all that’s lucky! Let’s cut after
him and ask him if he’s brought anything else to the surface.” And
without waiting for a reply he set off at a run in the wake of the
retreating inspector.
The latter, hearing their footsteps on the gravel, turned round to
wait for them.
“Well, sir?” he said with a smile. “Remembered something else to tell
me?”
Roger dropped into a walk. “No; but I was wondering whether you had
anything to tell me. Found anything more out?”
“You’re not connected with the press by any chance, Mr. Sheringham,
are you?” the inspector asked suspiciously.
“Oh, no; it’s just natural curiosity,” Roger laughed. “Not for
publication, and all that.”
“I was thinking you might get me into trouble if it came out that I’d
been talking more than I ought to, sir. But I haven’t found anything
more out in any case.”
“Lady Stanworth wasn’t any help?”
“Not a bit, sir. She couldn’t throw any light on it at all. I didn’t
keep her long. Or any of the others, either, for that matter. There
was nothing more to be got out of them, and I’ve got to get back and
make out my report.”
“Not even found the safe’s combination?”
“No,” returned the inspector disappointedly. “I shall have to ring up
the makers and get that. I’ve taken a note of the number.”
“And who saw him last?”
“Mrs. Plant. He stopped her in the hall to ask her if she liked some
roses he’d had specially sent up to her room for her, and left her to
go into the library. Nobody saw him after that.”
“And is the body still in there?”
“No, sir. We shan’t want that any more. The constable I brought with
me, Rudgeman, is helping them take it upstairs now.”
The lodge gates appeared in sight, and Roger halted.
“Well, good-bye, Inspector. Shall we see you over here again?”
“Yes, sir. I shall have to come over about that safe. I don’t suppose
we’ll find anything in it, and it’s a ten-mile bicycle ride for me in
this heat; but there you are!” He laughed ruefully and went on his
way.
Roger and Alec turned and began to pace slowly back to the house.
“So Mrs. Plant was the last to see him alive, was she?” observed the
former thoughtfully. “That means she’ll be staying over for the
inquest. The others will be going this afternoon, I suppose. What’s
the time?”
Alec glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Just past eleven.”
“And all that’s happened in two hours! My hat! Well, come along with
me. If the body’s been removed, we may find the coast clear with any
luck.”
“What are you proposing to do now?” Alec asked with interest.
“Look around that library.”
“Oh? What’s the idea?”
For once in his life a curious reluctance seemed to have settled upon
Roger. Almost nervously he cleared his throat, and when at last he did
speak his voice was unwontedly grave.
“Well,” he said slowly, picking his words with care; “there’s a thing
that nobody else seems to have noticed, but it’s been striking me more
and more forcibly every minute. I tell you candidly it’s something
rather horrible—a question that I’m honestly rather frightened of
finding the answer to.”
“What are you driving at?” asked Alec in perplexity.
Roger hesitated again.
“Look here,” he said suddenly, “if you were going to shoot yourself,
how would you go about it? Wouldn’t you do it like this?”
He raised his hand and pointed an imaginary revolver at a spot just
above the right-hand end of his right eyebrow.
Alec copied his action. “Well, yes, I might. It seems the natural way
to do it.”
“Exactly,” said Roger slowly. “Then why the devil is that wound in the
_centre_ of Stanworth’s forehead?”