ON THE TELEPHONE
It was a little hard even for the Colonel to keep up his affectation of
cheerfulness when he found himself alone with the man whom he had come to
visit. His experience of life had been large and varied, but he had never
yet seen so remarkable a change in any human being in twenty-four hours.
There were deep black lines under his eyes, his cheeks were colourless,
every now and then his features twitched nervously, as though he were
suffering from an attack of St. Vitus' dance. His hand, which had lain
weakly in the Colonel's, was as cold as ice, although there was a roaring
fire in the room. He had admitted the Colonel himself, and almost dragged
him inside the door.
"Did you meet any one outside--upon the stairs?" he asked feverishly.
"No one upon the stairs," the Colonel answered. "There was a man lighting
his pipe in the doorway."
Wrayson shivered as he turned away.
"Watching me!" he declared. "There are two of them! They are watching me
all the time."
The Colonel took off his coat. The room seemed to him like a furnace.
Then he stretched out his hands and laid them upon Wrayson's shoulders.
"What if they are?" he declared cheerfully. "They won't eat you. Besides,
it is very likely the dead man's rooms they are watching."
"They followed me home from the inquest," Wrayson muttered.
The Colonel laughed.
"And if I'd been living here," he remarked, "they'd have followed me
home just the same. Now, Herbert, my young friend," he continued,
"sit down and tell me all about it like a man. You're in a bit of
trouble, of course, underneath all this. Let's hear it, and we'll
find the best way out."
The Colonel's figure was dominant; his presence alone seemed to dispel
that unreal army of ghosts and fancies which a few moments before had
seemed to Wrayson to be making his room like the padded cell of a lunatic
asylum. His tone, too, had just enough sympathy to make its cheerfulness
reassuring. Wrayson began to feel glimmerings of common sense.
"Yes!" he said, "I've something to tell you. That's why I telephoned."
The Colonel rose again to his feet, and began fumbling in the pocket of
his overcoat.
"God bless my soul, I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, "and the fellows
would make me bring it. We guessed how you were feeling--much better to
have come up and dined with us. Here we are! Get some glasses, there's a
good chap."
A gold-foiled bottle appeared, and a packet of hastily cut sandwiches.
Wrayson found himself mechanically eating and drinking before he knew
where he was. Then in an instant the sandwiches had become delicious, and
the wine was rushing through his veins like a new elixir of life. He was
himself again, the banging of anvils in his head had ceased; he was
shaken perhaps, but a sane man. His eyes filled with tears, and he
gripped the Colonel by the hand.
"Colonel, you're--you're--God knows what you are," he murmured. "All the
ordinary things sound commonplace. I believe I was going mad."
The Colonel leaned back and laughed as though the idea tickled him.
"Not you!" he declared. "Bless you, I know what nerves are! Out in India,
thirty-five years ago, I've had to relieve men on frontier posts who
hadn't seen a soul to speak to for six months! Weird places some of them,
too--gives me the creeps to think of them sometimes! Now light up that
cigar," he added, throwing one across, "and let's hear the trouble."
Wrayson lit his cigar with fingers which scarcely shook. He threw the
match away and smoked for a moment in silence.
"It's about this Morris Barnes affair," he said abruptly. "I've kept
something back, and I'm a clumsy hand at telling a story that doesn't
contain all the truth. The consequence is, of course, that I'm suspected
of having had a hand in it myself."
The Colonel's manner had for a moment imperceptibly changed. Lines had
come out in his face which were not usually visible, his upper lip had
stiffened. One could fancy that he might have led his men into battle
looking something like this.
"What is it that you know?" he asked.
"There was another person in the flats that night, who was interested in
Morris Barnes, who visited his rooms, who was with me when I first saw
him dead."
The Colonel shaded his face with his hand. The heat from the fire
was intense.
"Why have you kept back this knowledge?" he asked.
"Because--it was a woman, and I am a fool!" Wrayson answered.
There was a silence. Then the Colonel pushed back his chair and dabbed
his forehead with his handkerchief. The room was certainly hot, and the
handkerchief was wet.
"Tell me about it," he said quietly. "I expected something of the sort!"
"On that morning," Wrayson began, "I returned home about twelve o'clock,
let myself in with my own latch-key, and found a woman standing before my
open desk going through my papers."
"A friend?" the Colonel asked.
"A complete stranger!" Wrayson answered. "Her surprise at seeing me was
at least equal to my own. I gathered that she had believed herself to be
in the flat of Morris Barnes, which is the corresponding one above."
"What did you do?" the Colonel asked.
"What I should have done I am not sure," Wrayson answered, "but while I
was talking to her the telephone bell rang, and I received that message
which I spoke about at the inquest. It was a mysterious sort of
business--I can hear that voice now. I was interested, and while I stood
there she slipped away."
"Is that all?" the Colonel asked.
"No!" Wrayson answered with a groan. "I wish to God it was!"
The Colonel moved his position a little. The cigar had burnt out between
his fingers, but he made no effort to light it.
"Go on," he said. "Tell me the rest. Tell me what happened afterwards."
"I wrote down the message for Barnes and left it in his letter-box.
There seemed then to be no light in his flat. Afterwards I lit a pipe,
left my door open, and sat down, with the intention of waiting till
Barnes came home and explaining what had happened. I fell asleep in my
chair and woke with a start. It was nearly three o'clock. I was going to
turn in when I heard the jingling of a hansom bell down below. I looked
out of the window and saw the cab standing in the street. Almost at the
same time I heard footsteps outside. I went to the door of my flat and
came face to face with the girl descending from the floor above."
"At three o'clock in the morning?" the Colonel interrupted.
Wrayson nodded.
"She was white and shaking all over," he continued rapidly. "She asked
me for brandy and I gave it to her; she asked me to see her out of the
place, and I did so. When I opened the door to let her out and we saw
the man leaning back in the cab, she moaned softly to herself. I said
something about his being asleep or drunk--'or dead!' she whispered in
my ear, and then she rushed away from me. She turned into the Albert
Road and disappeared almost at once. I could not have followed her if I
would. I had just begun to realize that something was wrong with the man
in the cab!"
"This is all?" the Colonel asked.
"It is all!" Wrayson answered.
"You do not know her name, or why she was here? You have not seen
her since?"
Wrayson shook his head.
"I know absolutely nothing," he said, "beyond what I have told you."
The Colonel struck a match and relit his cigar.
"I should like to understand," he said quietly, "why you avoided all
mention of her in your evidence."
Wrayson laughed oddly.
"I should like to understand that myself," he declared. "I can only
repeat what I said before. She was a woman, and I was a fool."
"In plain English," the Colonel said, "you did it to shield her?"
"Yes!" Wrayson answered.
The Colonel nodded thoughtfully.
"Well," he said, "you were in a difficult position, and you made a
deliberate choice. I tell you frankly that I expected to hear worse
things. Do you believe that she committed the murder?"
"No!" Wrayson answered. "I do not!"
"You believe that she may be associated with--the person who did?"
"I cannot tell," Wrayson declared.
"In any case," the Colonel continued, "you seem to have been the only
person who saw her. Whether you were wise or not to omit all mention of
her in your evidence--well, we won't discuss that. The best of us have
gone on the wrong side of the hedge for a woman before now--and damned
glad to do it. What I can't quite understand, old chap, is why you have
worked yourself up into such a shocking state. You don't stand any chance
of being hanged, that I can see!"
Wrayson laughed a little shamefacedly.
"To tell you the truth," he said, "I am beginning to feel ashamed of
myself. I think it was the sense of being spied upon, and being
alone--in this room--which got a bit on my nerves. I feel a different man
since you came down."
The Colonel nodded cheerfully.
"That's all right," he declared. "The next thing to--"
The Colonel broke off in the midst of his sentence. A few feet away from
him the telephone bell was ringing. Wrayson rose to his feet and took the
receiver into his hand.
"Hullo!" he said.
The voice which answered him was faint but clear. Wrayson almost dropped
the instrument. He recognized it at once.
"Is that Mr. Herbert Wrayson?" it asked.
"Yes!" Wrayson answered. "Who are you?"
"I am the person who spoke to you a few nights ago," was the answer.
"Never mind my name for the present. I wish to arrange a meeting--for
some time to-morrow. I have a matter--of business--to discuss with you."
"Anywhere--at any time," Wrayson answered, almost fiercely. "You cannot
be as anxious to see me as I am to know who you are."
The voice changed a little in its intonation. A note of mockery had
stolen into it.
"You flatter me," it said. "I trust that our meeting will be mutually
agreeable. You must excuse my coming to Battersea, as I understand that
your flat is subjected to a most inconvenient surveillance. May I call at
the office of your paper, at say eleven o'clock tomorrow?"
"Yes!" Wrayson answered. "You know where it is?"
"Certainly! I shall be there. A Mr. Bentham will ask for you.
Good night!"
Wrayson's unknown friend had rung off. He replaced the receiver and
turned to the Colonel.
"Do you know who that was?" he asked eagerly.
"I can guess," the Colonel answered.
"To-morrow, at eleven o'clock," Wrayson declared, "I shall know who
killed Morris Barnes."