The Mystery Finally Refuses to Accept Mr. Sheringham’s Solution
Roger had no time to waste. Mrs. Plant, Alec, and himself were all to
leave by the train soon after five o’clock; the car would be ready to
take them into Elchester at half-past four. Tea was to be at four, and
the time was already close on three. He had an hour left in which to
disentangle the last remaining threads. As he stood for a moment
outside the morning-room door it seemed to Roger as if even this
narrow margin were half an hour more than he needed.
Jefferson was still at work among the piled-up papers. He glanced up
abstractedly as Roger entered the room and then smiled slightly.
“Come to offer me a hand again?” he asked. “Devilish good of you, but
I’m afraid there’s absolutely nothing I can turn over to you this
time.”
Roger drew a chair up to the other side of the table and seated
himself deliberately.
“As a matter of fact, I hadn’t,” he said slowly. “I wanted to ask you
one or two questions, Jefferson, if you would be good enough to answer
them.”
Jefferson looked slightly surprised.
“Questions? All right, fire away. What can I tell you?”
“Well, the first thing I want to ask you,” Roger shot out, “is—where
were you at the time that Stanworth died?”
A look of blank astonishment was followed in Jefferson’s face by an
angry flush.
“And what the devil has that got to do with you?” he asked abruptly.
“Never mind for the moment what it has to do with me,” Roger replied,
his heart beating a little faster than usual. “I want you to answer
that question.”
Jefferson rose slowly to his feet, his eyes glittering ominously. “Do
you want me to kick you out of the room?” he said in a strangely quiet
voice.
Roger leaned back in his chair and watched him unmoved.
“Do I understand that you refuse to answer?” he said evenly. “You
refuse to tell me where you were between, say, one and three o’clock
on the morning that Stanworth died?”
“Most decidedly I do. And I want to know what the hell you think that
has to do with you?”
“It may have nothing and it may have everything,” Roger said calmly.
“But I advise you to tell me, if not for your own sake at least for
the lady’s.”
If this was a chance shot, it had certainly got home. Jefferson’s face
took on a deeper tinge and his eyes widened in sheer fury. He clenched
his fists till the knuckles showed up white and menacing.
“Damn you, Sheringham, that’s about enough!” he muttered, advancing
towards the other. “I don’t know what the devil you think you’re
playing at, but——”
A sudden bluff darted into Roger’s mind. After all, what was a man
like Jefferson doing as secretary to a man like Stanworth? He decided
to risk it.
“Before you do anything rash, Jefferson,” he said quickly, “I’d like
to ask you another question. What was Stanworth blackmailing you for?”
There are times when bluff pays. This was one of them. Jefferson
stopped short in his stride, his hands fell limply to his sides and
his jaw drooped open. It was as if he had been struck by a sudden and
unexpected bullet.
“Sit down and let’s talk things over quietly,” Roger advised, and
Jefferson resumed his seat without a word.
Roger reviewed the situation rapidly in his mind.
“You see,” he began in conversational tones, “I know quite a lot of
what’s been going on here, and in the circumstances I really have no
alternative but to find out the rest. I admit that it places me in
rather an awkward situation, but I can’t see that I can very well do
anything else. Now what I suggest, Jefferson, is that we both put our
cards on the table and talk the thing over as two men of the world. Do
you agree?”
Jefferson frowned. “You don’t appear to give me much option, do you?
Though what it has to do with you, I’m really hanged if I can see.”
It was on Roger’s lips to retort that Jefferson would very probably be
hanged if he didn’t, but fortunately he was able to control himself.
“I should have thought that would have been obvious,” he said
smoothly. “I can hardly leave things as they are, can I? Still, we’ll
pass over that for the present. Now Stanworth was, as I know, a
blackmailer, and there can be no doubt as to that affecting the
situation in no small degree.”
“What situation?” Jefferson asked in puzzled tones.
Roger glanced at him shrewdly. “_The_ situation,” he said firmly. “I
think we both understand to what I am referring.”
“I’m blessed if I do,” Jefferson retorted.
“Of course if you take up that attitude——!” Roger said tentatively.
“Still, perhaps it’s a little early to get down to brass tacks,” he
added, after a moment’s pause. “We’ll confine ourselves to the other
aspect for a time, shall we? Now Stanworth, I take it, had some
definite hold over you. Would you mind telling me exactly what that
was?”
“Is this necessary?” Jefferson demanded shortly. “My private affair,
you know. Why the deuce should you want to concern yourself in it?”
“Don’t talk like that, Jefferson, please. You must see what course
you’ll force on me if you do.”
“Damned if I do! What course?”
“To put the whole thing in the hands of the police, naturally.”
Jefferson started violently. “Good God, you wouldn’t do that,
Sheringham!”
“I don’t want to do so, of course. But you really must be frank with
me. Now please tell me all about your relations with Stanworth. I may
tell you, to save you trouble, that I am already in full possession of
all the similar facts with regard to—well, the lady in the case.”
“The devil you are!” Jefferson exclaimed in undisguised astonishment.
“Oh, well, if I’ve got to tell you, I suppose I must. Though what in
the name of goodness it can have to—— However!”
He leaned back in his chair and began to fiddle abstractedly with the
papers in front of him.
“It was this way. My regiment was in India. Pal of mine and I were
both in love with the same girl. No bad blood or anything like that.
Good friends all the time. He got her. Wanted to get married at once,
but very hard up, of course. We all were. He’d got a lot of debts,
too. Damned fool went and drew a check on another man’s account.
Forged it, if you like. Absurd thing to do; bound to come out. There
was a hell of a row, but we managed to keep it confined to a few of
us. Chap came and confessed to me; asked what on earth he’d better do.
They hadn’t found out who’d done it yet, but when they did it would be
all up with him. Lose the girl and everything; she was fond enough of
him, but straight as a die herself. Couldn’t have stood the disgrace.
Well, what could I do? Couldn’t stand by and see all this happen. Went
to the colonel and told him I’d done the blessed thing. Only thing to
do.”
“By Jove, you sportsman!” Roger exclaimed involuntarily.
“Sportsman be damned! Wouldn’t have done it for him alone. I was
thinking of the girl.”
“And what happened?”
“Oh, it was hushed up as much as possible. I had to send in my papers,
of course, but the fellow didn’t prosecute. Then that hound Stanworth
got wind of the story somehow and managed to lay his hands on the
check, which had never been destroyed. Perfect godsend to him, of
course. Gave me choice of taking on this job with him or letting the
whole thing be passed on to the police. No alternative. I had to take
on the job.”
“But why on earth did he want you as his secretary? That’s what I
can’t understand.”
“Simple enough. He wanted to push his way in among the sort of people
I knew. I was a sort of social sponsor for him. Damned unpleasant job,
of course, but what could I do? Besides, when I took the job on I
didn’t know anything about him. Thought he was just a new-rich
merchant and I was his only victim in the threatening line. Soon found
out, of course; but too late to back out then. That’s all. Satisfied?”
“Perfectly. Sorry I had to ask you, but you see how it is. Well, I’m
dashed if I can blame you. I’d have done the same thing myself. But
I’d like to have the story of it from your own lips.”
“Just told you the story.”
“No, the other one, I mean.”
“What other one?”
“Oh, don’t beat about the bush like this. You know perfectly well what
I’m driving at. I’ll put it in the original form, if you like. Where
were you during the night that Stanworth died?”
Jefferson’s angry flush returned.
“Now look here, Sheringham, that’s too much. I’ve told you things I
never dreamed I’d have to tell anyone, and I’m not going to have you
probing any farther into my business. That’s final.”
Roger rose to his feet. “I’m sorry you take it like that, Jefferson,”
he said quietly. “You leave me no alternative.”
“What are you going to do then?”
“Tell the police the whole story.”
“Are you mad, Sheringham?” Jefferson burst out angrily.
“No, but I think you are, not to trust me,” Roger retorted, hardly
less so. “You don’t think I want to tell them, do you? It’s you who
are forcing me to do so.”
“What, through not telling you what—what I was doing that night?”
“Of course.”
There was a short pause, while the two glared at each other.
“Come back in a quarter of an hour,” Jefferson said abruptly. “I’ll
think it over. Have to consult her, of course, first.”
Roger nodded acquiescence to this proposal and hurried out of the
room. Exultantly he sought Alec.
“I told you so, Alexander,” he cried triumphantly, as soon as he was
fairly inside the room. “Jefferson’s on the point of confession!”
“He’s not!” Alec exclaimed incredulously.
“He is indeed. And there’s a lot more to it than that. I’ve bluffed
him into believing that I know a lot more than I do really, and he’s
going to tell me all sorts of other things as well. He’s let one cat
out of the bag already. I can tell you. Mrs. Plant is in it, after
all!”
“Oh, rot!” Alec replied with decision. “That’s out of the question. I
know she isn’t.”
“Don’t be so absurd, Alexander,” Roger retorted somewhat nettled. “How
can you possibly know?”
“Well, anyhow, I’m sure she isn’t,” Alec replied obstinately.
“But my dear chap, friend Jefferson has just gone off to consult her
as to whether he shall tell me the whole story or not. I threatened
him with the police, you see, if he didn’t.”
“I suppose you taxed him outright with the murder, did you?”
“No, Alexander, I didn’t,” Roger answered wearily. “The word murder
was never so much as mentioned. I simply put it that I wanted to know
what he was doing on the night of Stanworth’s death.”
“And he wouldn’t tell you?” Alec asked, somewhat surprisedly.
“He certainly would not. But he told me a lot of other things. He was
in Stanworth’s power all right. I haven’t got time to tell you the
whole story, but there’s motive enough for him to kill Stanworth
himself, even without the introduction of Mrs. Plant’s side of it. Oh,
the whole thing’s as plain as a pikestaff. I can’t understand why
you’re so sceptical about it all.”
“Perhaps I make a better detective than you do, Roger,” Alec laughed,
a trifle constrainedly.
“Perhaps,” Roger said without very much conviction. He glanced at his
watch. “Well, I’d better be getting back. I wonder if you’d believe it
if I showed you Jefferson’s confession in writing! Would you?”
“I very much doubt it,” Alec smiled.
Jefferson was no longer alone in the morning room when Roger returned
to it. To the latter’s surprise Lady Stanworth was also there. She was
standing with her back to the window and did not look round at his
entrance. Roger shut the door carefully behind him and looked
inquiringly at Jefferson.
That gentleman did not waste time.
“We’ve talked the matter over,” he said curtly, “and decided to tell
you what you want to know.”
Roger could hardly repress an exclamation of surprise. Why should
Jefferson have imported Lady Stanworth into the matter? Obviously she
must be involved, and deeply, too. Could it be that Jefferson had
taken her into his confidence with regard to Mrs. Plant? How much did
she know, if that were the case? Presumably everything. Roger felt
that the situation was about to prove not a little awkward.
“I’m glad,” he murmured, half apologetically.
Jefferson was carrying the thing off well. Not only did he appear to
be feeling no fear at all, but his manner was not even that of
defiance. The attitude he had adopted and which sat perfectly
naturally upon him was rather one of dignified condescension.
“But before I answer you, Sheringham,” he said stiffly, “I should like
to say, both on behalf of this lady and myself, that we consider——”
Lady Stanworth turned to him. “Please!” she said quietly. “I don’t
think we need go into that. If Mr. Sheringham is incapable of
understanding the position into which he has forced us, there can
hardly be any need to labour the point.”
“Quite, quite,” Roger murmured still more apologetically, and feeling
unaccountably small. Lady Stanworth was perhaps the only person in the
world who consistently had that effect upon him.
“Very well,” Jefferson bowed. He turned to Roger. “You wanted to know
where I was on the night that Stanworth shot himself?”
“On the night of Stanworth’s death,” Roger corrected, with a slight
smile.
“On the night of Stanworth’s death then,” Jefferson said impatiently.
“Same thing. As I said before, I fail entirely to see how it can
concern you, but we have decided under the circumstances to tell you.
After all, the fact will be common knowledge soon enough now. I was
with my wife.”
“Your _wife_?” Roger echoed, scarcely able to believe his ears.
“That is what I said,” Jefferson replied coldly. “Lady Stanworth and I
were married secretly nearly six months ago.”