THE STORY OF A CRIME.
Dallas shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Truth to tell he was both
annoyed and disappointed. He had looked forward with every assurance
to laying his hand on the actual culprit in the person of Cooney. As
it was now, the whole thing looked like beginning all over again. A
suspicion of the real truth was dawning on his mind. "It was like
this," Cooney said, in a harsh, strained voice. "I have been pretty
short of a job for some time, and I promised to pay for a lot of
furniture I bought for my house by a given time. I had the stuff on
the hire-purchase system, and I knew precious well what would happen
if I did not keep the instalments up. I had only a day or two to
spare, and I was getting pretty anxious. That same evening I met
Stevens in a public house. I hadn't seen him for some time, and,
naturally enough, I asked him what he had been doing. Then he told me
that on behalf of a party, whose name he didn't mention, he had been
shadowing a certain house in Fitzjohn Square. I wasn't particularly
interested until he let out that he could tell me a good deal about
the houses there, and how some of them would be easy work for the
likes of a chap such as me, for instance. Then I asks a few questions,
and hears all about Mr. Delahay's studio. Thinks I to myself, here's a
bit of luck for you, Jim Cooney. I had all the information I wanted.
The next night I goes round and has a look at the studio. The thing
was as easy as eating your dinner. I waited till it got pretty late,
and then I got into the house from the back. When I did get there, I
was rather alarmed to see a light in the studio. I crept along to the
door, and looked in. You can imagine my surprise when I saw a
gentleman painting there. When I looked at him again I had no
difficulty in recognising Lord Ravenspur.
"What he was doing there, I don't know. But seeing it wasn't his own
house, I reckoned he wasn't likely to stay long, so I just sat down to
wait patiently for such a time as I could have the place to myself. It
wasn't more than an hour before I heard the door open, and two other
people came in. They were a lady and a gentleman, but who the lady was
I don't know from Adam. The gentleman, as you will guess, was Mr.
Delahay himself. I suppose the lady was really Mrs. Delahay, too; I
mean, the woman who is suspected of the murder. But I am getting a bit
away from the point. I had hardly time to hide myself behind a recess
with a curtain in front of it before the newcomers came into the hall
and began to talk. They were conversing more or less in whispers, so
that I could not follow very well, but I could see that they were
annoyed to find Lord Ravenspur there, and they were casting about for
some means of getting rid of him. Presently the lady said something
about the light and the cable, and the gentleman seemed to fall in
with her suggestion. Anyway, I saw him take a knife from his pocket,
and go down into the basement. A moment later the whole place was
plunged in darkness----"
"You mean that the cable was cut?" Dallas asked. "Well, I am glad that
mystery is cleared up. I am bound to tell you, gentlemen, that that
cut cable has caused me no end of trouble. It started me on a dozen,
more or less impossible, theories. I see exactly what happened now.
Mr. Delahay and his companion doubtless thought that if they cut off
the light, they would get rid of Lord Ravenspur."
"That is exactly what they did," Cooney resumed. "I heard his lordship
fussing about, and trying the electric switches, but he gave it up as
a bad job, and after a bit left the house. Mr. Delahay appeared
presently from somewhere, with a lamp, which he carried into the
studio, and the lady followed him. I was close enough at hand to see
what took place. The lady had come, evidently for some valuable
jewelry, for Mr. Delahay produced a case from a safe, and handed it
over to her. My word, but those stones did sparkle! It seemed to me
that I was in luck that night. My game obviously was to take no
further heed of the studio, but to follow the lady as soon as she left
the house. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning, and there wasn't
a soul about. In my mind's eye I saw those stones already in my
pocket. But, unfortunately for me, Mr. Delahay walked with his visitor
as far as the front gate, and stood looking up the road until the lady
was safe in a hansom. It was as much as I could do to get back to the
house again without being discovered, but I managed it all right.
There were several valuable articles I had marked down, and directly
Mr. Delahay was back in the studio I began to gather them together. I
dropped one trinket, which tinkled on the floor, and my heart was in
my mouth. I thought that the sound didn't reach the ears of Mr.
Delahay. But I was mistaken. A minute or two later I heard him coming,
and I bolted through the window into the garden. I waited there
perhaps for an hour before it seemed safe for me to go back, and then
I went. I turned on the light. . . . My heart was fair in my mouth.
Then I looked down at the floor. There lay Mr. Delahay as dead as a
rabbit. I believe I howled for a moment, I was taken to! But there he
lay, and there was his watch-chain a-shining in the light, and then it
comes into my head that, if I'd got pluck enough, here was a way to
pay for them sticks of furniture of mine. It was hard work, but I
managed to screw myself up to it at last. After all said and done, I'd
only come here to take what I could get, and it wasn't me that knifed
the poor gentleman. Besides, he might have died a natural death for
all I knew. There was no sign of blood about, and nothing that
suggested violence. All the same, I couldn't go through it again if
you offered me ten thousand of the best."
Cooney paused and shuddered. Great beads of perspiration poured down
his face. Then he resumed once more.
"Well, he was dead, and there was an end of it. Just for the moment I
wasn't thinking about much besides my little happy home. I pocketed
all the valuables I could lay my hands upon, and carried them away.
You may say that that was a mad thing to do, but after I saw Mr.
Delahay lying dead at my feet, it seemed to me as if he wasn't likely
to miss 'em. Oh, I know as I stand in what the papers call a serious
position. But that's the gospel truth, and I can't tell you any more.
It seems to me I have said enough. And now, if you will call a cab,
sir, I am ready for you."
A cab was called, and Dallas drove off in the direction of Bow Street
with his prisoner. He stopped just a moment to exchange a few words
with Lance and Venables.
"There is no reason why Mrs. Delahay should not know this just yet?"
Walter asked. "You may be sure that she feels her position keenly.
Would there be any objection to getting her to accompany us as far as
Cannon Green tonight? You will understand why."
"None at all," Dallas said. "I'll send a message to the man who is
watching outside the Grand Hotel, and let him know that his presence
there is needed no longer. All the same, we have still got to find the
culprit. It isn't Cooney. He told us the truth, I'm certain. The
culprit is at Cannon Green! What a fool I've been!"
Mrs. Delahay received her visitors in a dull, apathetic way, which had
never left her since the night of the tragedy. But her face cleared,
and her manner became more soft and gentle as she listened to the
story which Walter had to tell. She dropped into a chair, and for some
moments the tears ran unrestrainedly down her cheeks. She wiped her
eyes presently. There was something like a smile on her lips as she
turned to Walter.
"I believe those tears saved my reason," she said. "I have not been
able to cry. I have not been able to feel the last few days. The death
of my husband was bad enough. The knowledge that I was suspected of
his murder was worse, but the feeling that my own sister possibly had
a hand in the tragedy was worse than all the rest. There are one or
two matters to be explained yet, but the great truth is growing plain,
and I feel like a living being once more. Oh, yes; I will come down to
Cannon Green with you; I am looking forward to it with something like
pleasure. I know that when I have seen my sister everything will be
cleared up."
It was a different woman who came down from her room half an hour
later, ready for the journey. She looked sad and pathetic enough in
her deep mourning. The trouble still brooded in her eyes, but the look
of stony despair was no longer there. They came at length to the house
on the common. The windows were lighted up, the hall looked
comfortable and cheery.
In the drawing-room were the Countess Flavio and Vera. They rose as
Mrs. Delahay entered.
"I have brought your sister," Walter explained briefly. "She has much
to say to you. Perhaps I had better leave you alone."