A PRIVATE EXPLANATION.
Shepworth made no reply to the insinuation contained in the remark
of the Inspector. His brain was still dazed with the fumes of the
white smoke, and after telling his story he sat indifferently in his
armchair. Prelice watched him closely, recognising the mental
confusion, then laid his hand on the poor fellow's arm. "You had
better come and lie down," he said gently, and glanced at Thornton.
"Certainly, certainly!" answered that gentleman briskly, and in reply
to the unspoken query of Prelice; "a few hours' sleep will cure Mr.
Shepworth completely."
"Can I stay with my friend?" demanded Prelice, turning to Bruge.
The Inspector nodded absently, as he was evidently following some
train of thought. "Will it be necessary to make a further examination
of this?" he inquired, looking at the dead body and at Thornton.
"No, no--not at present. When it has been removed to the dead-house I
will see to a further examination. I have seen the body before rigor
mortis has set in, so that is all that is necessary. The man has been
stabbed some time between ten and eleven, and he is as dead as a
coffin nail." Thornton drew on his gloves. "Good-night!"
"Good-night," replied the Inspector. "Allow me to see you to the
door." And he conducted both the medical men out of the room, leaving
Prelice alone with his still dazed friend.
But Shepworth was not so dazed as he pretended to be, for the moment
the door was closed he sprang to his feet. "Dorry, Dorry," he gasped,
swaying, "the knife--look for the knife!" Then he dropped back again
in the chair, too weak to stand.
"What do you mean?" demanded Prelice sharply, and much puzzled.
Shepworth clutched him. "I did not tell all," he stuttered hurriedly;
"it would not have done to tell all. Listen, Dorry. Agstone came back
again alone--alone, I tell you--before he brought the lady. I was
still conscious, although unable to move in any way. He held the knife
in his hand--the jade-handled paper-cutter with which Sir Oliver was
murdered. I had it, as you know; it was concealed in my desk--in my
study. Agstone must have found it. Agstone must have used it. No!
Agstone is dead. I forgot. But someone must have used it to kill
Agstone. Oh, my head, my head!" He grasped his hair, and rocked to and
fro; then with an effort: "Look for the knife--under the table
perhaps--under the----"
Before he could end the sentence Prelice, realising its importance,
sprang forward, and lifted a corner of the tablecloth, which trailed
on the ground. At the same instant Inspector Bruge appeared again,
unexpectedly. His keen eyes immediately fixed themselves on Prelice.
"What are you doing, my lord?" he asked imperatively.
"Making a search," retorted the other bluffly. He did not know what
else to say, and hoped that his ready and natural explanation would
lull any newly aroused suspicions entertained by the officer.
It did to a certain extent. "You must allow us to do that, my lord. I
think you had better take Mr. Shepworth to his bed. And we may as well
cover this thing until it is taken away," added Bruge, gathering up
the folds of the tablecloth to lay them over the stark-dead creature
staring at the ceiling.
Shepworth moved at the same moment as Bruge; but Prelice, guessing
that he wished to interfere, held him down with an iron grasp.
When the lifted cloth exposed the bare legs of the table, both the
young men caught sight of an object lying underneath. Bruge, stepping
back, espied it also, with his trained faculty of instant observation,
and stooped to pick it up. The jade-handled paper-cutter lay just
where the feet of the dead man had rested before the body had been
shifted on to the table. The wonder was that it had not been
discovered before; but then it had been concealed by the drooping
cloth.
"The weapon with which the crime has been committed," murmured Bruge
in a complacent tone; "after stabbing his victim, the assassin must
have allowed the knife to fall under the table, or perhaps threw it
there intentionally. A jade handle! H'm! It looks like a dagger
too--an Eastern dagger. Where have I seen it--where?" And the
Inspector fell into a brown study, turning and twisting the
paper-cutter slowly.
Prelice pressed Shepworth's shoulder to keep him quiet, and cleared
his throat to answer. "It is the knife used to kill Sir Oliver," he
said, and felt Shepworth jerk his body in surprised remonstrance at
this unnecessary frankness.
Bruge glanced up in amazement. "Why, so it is," he remarked
wonderingly--"the very dagger. I remember now that I read the
description given of this in the newspaper report of the inquest at
Hythe. H'm! So that is how I fancied that I had seen it before." He
balanced the knife on the palm of his hand. "A very good piece of
description it must have been to so enable me to recognise this. But
you," he glanced suspiciously at Prelice, "how did you know?"
The young man shrugged his square shoulders. "That is easily
explained," he replied suavely. "I went to hear the case at the New
Bailey to-day, as I thought that my friend here," he again pressed
Shepworth's shoulder significantly, "was to speak in defence of Miss
Chent. At the Court I heard the knife described. It is quite simple,
you see."
"I wonder how it comes to be here?" mused Bruge, nodding acquiescence
to this lucid explanation. "Odd, isn't it?"
"Not at all," rejoined Prelice easily; "the assassin of Sir Oliver
Lanwin brought it here to kill Agstone."
"But Miss Chent is in prison," remonstrated the Inspector; "she could
not have----"
"She never did in any case," interrupted Shepworth faintly, but
rousing himself sufficiently to defend his promised wife. "She is
innocent."
"It is natural that you should say so," remarked Bruge, with polite
scepticism, then added significantly: "Did you expect Agstone?"
Shepworth's eyebrows went up wearily. "I? No! Why should I have
expected a witness for the prosecution to call upon me? I have told
you all that happened until I entirely lost my senses. The first I saw
of Agstone was when he crawled from under that table. Then the smoke
had rendered me, not unconscious, but unable to speak or move."
"Can this smoke you mention, do that?"
"I speak from experience, Mr. Inspector; and Miss Chent, if you
remember, told the same story."
"Oh, I see that the two crimes are connected," said Bruge hastily.
"The circumstances are the same as regards this mysterious smoke and
its curious power. But you say," he added, turning to Prelice, "you
say, my lord, that the assassin of Sir Oliver brought the knife to
kill Agstone. Yet we see," he waved his hands towards the corpse,
"that Agstone himself is a victim."
"Quite so; but he may have brought the knife for all that."
"Then you imply that Agstone murdered his master?"
"I imply nothing," retorted the young man restively; "but the knife
could not have got here unless someone brought it, and as it was
missing from the Lanwin Grange library, only the murderer who used it
could have possessed it. Moreover," Prelice pressed Shepworth's
shoulder to make him particularly note the next sentence, "moreover,
Mr. Shepworth saw the knife in Agstone's hand."
Bruge wheeled swiftly towards the barrister. "You did not say that?"
"Not when the doctors and you were in the room," said Shepworth
languidly. "I am only beginning to recover my senses, remember; but I
told Lord Prelice that Agstone, after he left this room, returned and
looked in, to see if I was insensible I suppose, before he brought in
the lady. Then he had the knife in his hand."
"And what do you infer?" asked Bruge pointedly.
"There can only be one inference drawn," said Prelice, before
Shepworth could speak; "Agstone must have had the knife in his
pocket."
"Then Agstone must have murdered Sir Oliver," said Bruge triumphantly.
Shepworth shrugged his shoulders, and staggered to his feet. "I feel
too dizzy to give an opinion," he said, leaning heavily on his friend.
"We know that Agstone was devoted to Sir Oliver. Why should he have
murdered him? Besides, he accuses Miss Chent."
"Naturally," cried the Inspector, who followed eagerly the scent of
the red herring which Prelice had drawn across the trail. "If Agstone
is guilty himself he naturally would throw the blame on another
person; and if he was possessed of the knife he must be guilty. It was
missed from the Grange library and reappears here."
"The masked lady might have brought it," suggested Shepworth.
Bruge, extremely pleased with his own theory, shook his head
sapiently. "Mr. Shepworth saw the knife in Agstone's hand before he
became insensible. You can swear to that?" he asked the barrister.
"Yes," said Shepworth truthfully; "I can swear to that."
"And you can swear that the masked woman killed Agstone?"
"No; I can't say that. When she waved the bronze cup before me I
became entirely insensible."
The Inspector looked more knowing than ever. "Of course," said he in a
complacent way, "she did not wish you to see her stabbing Agstone."
"But why should she have stabbed him?"
"We can't say until we know the lady. Did you recognise her?"
"No; she was masked and cloaked."
"A green domino, I think you said."
"And a green mask," supplemented Shepworth.
"She must have been at Mrs. Rover's ball," mused Bruge.
"Not necessarily," interpolated Prelice; "but as many people masked
and cloaked were ascending and descending the stairs, she may have
taken advantage of the ball to get into this flat unobserved."
"Quite so," assented the Inspector; "but who admitted her?"
"Agstone must have done that," said Shepworth.
"Probably; but who admitted Agstone?"
The barrister shook his head. "I can't say," he replied in a tired
tone. "I heard a noise--three heavy blows struck in this room--as I
told you, when seated in the drawing-room. I did not know that anyone
was in the flat."
"What time did your servants go to assist at the ball?"
"Shortly before nine o'clock, when the dinner was over."
"You had dinner then?"
"Oh yes. I came from the Court worn out, and slept for a long time. I
then had a light dinner."
"Agstone could not have been at the table then--under it I mean?"
"I think not," said the barrister slowly; "it is not a large table as
you see. I would either have heard him, or I should have felt him with
my feet."
"Your servants may have left the outer door ajar."
Shepworth nodded. "Perhaps. You can question them. But after dining I
returned to the drawing-room before nine o'clock."
"And you did not re-enter this room until you came to see what the
three heavy blows meant?"
"No; I did not."
"They must have been struck to make you enter the room."
"I think so, Mr. Inspector. Agstone wished to be smothered with the
smoke. That was why the bronze cup was smoking on the table."
"Where is the bronze cup?" Bruge looked about him.
"I can't say. I last saw it when the lady waved it under my nose."
The Inspector meditated. "It's a queer case altogether," he mused,
"and undoubtedly it is connected with the Lanwin murder," he mused
again, and then looked up abruptly. "I believe that this second murder
will exonerate Miss Chent," he said quietly.
"I hope so," rejoined Shepworth, walking towards the door heavily, and
still leaning on Prelice's shoulder. "If she is condemned for
murdering her uncle, I should certainly be arrested and tried for
murdering Agstone. I had every reason to kill him, since on his
evidence hangs the fate of Miss Chent."
"You may as well speak in the past tense, Mr. Shepworth, seeing that
the man is dead. For my part, I believe that Agstone murdered his
master, and was ready to throw the blame on Miss Chent so as to save
his own skin. Only the assassin of Sir Oliver could have been
possessed of the knife."
"Am I to consider myself arrested?" demanded the barrister.
"No," rejoined Bruge promptly, and held open the door; "but, of
course, we must keep an eye on you," he added, smiling ambiguously.
Shepworth nodded languidly, and went out with his friend. "Come into
my study, Prelice," he said almost in a whisper. "That knife----"
"Hush!" Prelice gripped the barrister's arm hard. He quite understood
what Shepworth wished to do. "Not so loud."
But he need not have been so cautious, for the door of the dining-room
had been closed by Bruge, who was now probably searching the clothes
of the dead man for more evidence. The two young men went into the
study, which was at the end of the passage, and there found that the
desk had been forced open--that is, all the three drawers on each
side, six in all--in a most dexterous manner. Agstone had apparently
come provided with house-breaking tools, so as to gain possession of
the dagger. "But how did he know that I had it?" asked Shepworth,
perplexed.
"I daresay he was watching through the Grange window, and saw you take
it from Miss Chent," suggested Prelice.
Shepworth nodded. "Let us put the room tidy," he said hurriedly, and
closing the door; "I don't want the police to fuss about here."
The room really was untidy, for in searching for the knife Agstone had
scattered the loose papers lying on the desk all over the carpet. The
young man collected these, and placed them in order; then Shepworth
closed the drawers of the desk carefully. In a few minutes--after
replacing a chair that had been kicked over, and smoothing a rug that
had been rucked up--the study looked quite in order. Nevertheless,
Shepworth stared anxiously at the now innocent-looking desk. "I hope
the police will not examine it," he said nervously.
"I don't think so, since you have explained so much, Ned. Their
attentions will be confined to the dining-room wherein the murder took
place. Will you go to bed?"
"No." Shepworth sat at his desk. "I don't want this examined. Let us
sit here and have some strong coffee."
Prelice shook his head. "Don't," he advised; "better let us steal to
your bedroom, and say nothing about having been here. If the police
examine the desk you can pretend ignorance, and express surprise. On
the other hand, if Bruge comes in and makes the discovery while we are
here, he will naturally demand why we kept silence, and inquiries
would lead to difficulties. Leave the thing to chance."
Shepworth agreed with this reasoning, since it was useless, and even
dangerous, to create difficulties at the present juncture. The two
walked silently to the bedroom, and here the barrister stripped, to
put on his dressing-gown. Then, lying down outside the bed, he placed
his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling, while Prelice
lounged in an armchair close at hand.
"Why did you tell Bruge about the second entrance of Agstone with the
dagger?" asked Shepworth suddenly.
"Because he had already seen the dagger," rejoined Prelice promptly.
"It is as well to tell the truth when possible, and just as well that
the Inspector should think Agstone--who cannot now contradict--brought
the dagger. You heard what he said yourself about Agstone's possible
guilt. Our frankness will probably save Miss Chent, as the murder of
Sir Oliver will be attributed to Agstone because he possessed that
paper-cutter."
Shepworth groaned. "But if Bruge knew that I took it from Mona?"
"Then there would be serious trouble. Let things remain as they are,
Ned. We know that Miss Chent is innocent, and must save her."
"But we don't know that Agstone is guilty. He certainly is not, on the
reasoning of Bruge."
"No; seeing that we know Agstone did not bring the dagger here. But
the man is dead, and if he can be made to act as scapegoat for an
innocent woman, so much the better."
The barrister sighed. "We are environed by difficulties," he murmured;
then added significantly and unexpectedly: "Jadby called to see me
this evening."
"What!" Prelice was startled. "I thought that you had quarrelled."
"So we had--so we did--and with fists too. But when I was reading in
the drawing-room, and thinking of my poor girl shut up in prison, I
heard a ring at the front door. The servants had gone to the ball, as
you know, so I had to open the door myself. Captain Jadby was there,
and after a stiff greeting he asked for an interview. I took him into
the drawing-room, and----"
"One moment. Did you close the outer door?"
"Of course. Why do you ask that?"
"I fancied that you might have unconsciously left it open, and that
Agstone might then have entered to conceal himself."
"No," said Shepworth decisively. "I am certain that I closed it. With
Jadby I went to the drawing-room, and there he frankly expressed his
regrets that we had quarrelled. He wished to make it up, and to join
forces with me to save poor Mona."
"Because he loves her?"
"Quite so. He makes no secret of the fact that he is madly in love
with Mona. Our hand-to-hand fight at Lanwin Grange rose solely from
the fact that he would insist upon forcing his attentions on her. She
appealed to me as her lover, so I tackled Jadby, and knocked him down.
However, he seemed to be sorry that he had behaved like a bounder; so
we shook hands, and then sat down to consider how we should act with
regard to Mona's position."
"H'm!" Prelice looked sceptical. "From the glimpse I caught of Jadby I
should not think he was the sort of man to forgive a punch in the eye,
much less the loss of the girl he loves. He might have come here with
the intention of trapping you; he might have admitted Agstone."
"No," replied Shepworth quickly. "I was with him all the time. I
opened the outer door to admit him, and closed it when he departed. As
he was under my eyes while in the flat, he had no chance of admitting
Agstone secretly. I don't know how the man managed to enter and
conceal himself under that table, but Jadby had nothing to do with it.
Moreover," added the barrister decisively, "Jadby told me that he was
as ignorant as everyone else of Agstone's whereabouts."
"Oh, a blighter like Jadby would say anything."
Shepworth protested. "I think we have judged Jadby wrongly."
"My dear Ned, you are altogether too good for this wicked world. I
don't trust Jadby for one instant. He plays for his own hand."
"I know he does. He admits that he intends to claim the estate of Sir
Oliver, and that he loves Mona. But he swears that he will take no
steps until she is set free. Then she can marry me if she chooses."
Prelice laughed ironically. "And you believe him?"
"He seemed to be in earnest."
"About setting Miss Chent free? Oh yes; I am sure of that; but he
intends to marry her, you may be sure. Jadby is very philanthropic.
How does he propose to save Miss Chent?"
"By finding Agstone, and sending him out of the kingdom."
"And Agstone appears shortly after that proposal. H'm! H'm! H'm! I
must have a personal interview with Captain Jadby, and ask him----"
"Ask him what?"
"If he has ever visited Easter Island."
"What on earth do you mean?" demanded Shepworth curiously.
But Lord Prelice refused to explain further.