The Borough Treasurer Page 22

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE HAND IN THE DARKNESS

  The Highmarket clocks were striking noon when Mallalieu was arrested.For three hours he remained under lock and key, in a room in the TownHall--most of the time alone. His lunch was brought to him; everyconsideration was shown him. The police wanted to send for his solicitorfrom Norcaster; Mallalieu bade them mind their own business. He turned adeaf ear to the superintendent's entreaties to him to see some friend;let him mind his own business too, said Mallalieu. He himself would donothing until he saw the need to do something. Let him hear what couldbe brought against him--time enough to speak and act then. He ate hislunch, he smoked a cigar; he walked out of the room with defiant eye andhead erect when they came to fetch him before a specially summoned benchof his fellow-magistrates. And it was not until he stepped into thedock, in full view of a crowded court, and amidst quivering excitement,that he and Cotherstone met.

  The news of the partners' arrest had flown through the little town likewildfire. There was no need to keep it secret; no reason why it shouldbe kept secret. It was necessary to bring the accused men before themagistrates as quickly as possible, and the days of private inquirieswere long over. Before the Highmarket folk had well swallowed theirdinners, every street in the town, every shop, office, bar-parlour,public-house, private house rang with the news--Mallalieu andCotherstone, the Mayor and the Borough Treasurer, had been arrested forthe murder of their clerk, and would be put before the magistrates atthree o'clock. The Kitely affair faded into insignificance--exceptamongst the cute and knowing few, who immediately began to ask if theHobwick Quarry murder had anything to do with the murder on the Shawl.

  If Mallalieu and Cotherstone could have looked out of the windows of thecourt in the Town Hall, they would have seen the Market Square packedwith a restless and seething crowd of townsfolk, all clamouring forwhatever news could permeate from the packed chamber into which so fewhad been able to fight a way. But the prisoners seemed strangelyindifferent to their surroundings. Those who watched them closely--asBrereton and Tallington did--noticed that neither took any notice of theother. Cotherstone had been placed in the dock first. When Mallalieu wasbrought there, a moment later, the two exchanged one swift glance and nomore--Cotherstone immediately moved off to the far corner on the lefthand, Mallalieu remained in the opposite one, and placing his hands inthe pockets of his overcoat, he squared his shoulders and straitened hisbig frame and took a calm and apparently contemptuous look round abouthim.

  Brereton, sitting at a corner of the solicitor's table, and havingnothing to do but play the part of spectator, watched these two mencarefully and with absorbed interest from first to last. He was soonaware of the vastly different feelings with which they themselveswatched the proceedings. Cotherstone was eager and restless; he couldnot keep still; he moved his position; he glanced about him; he lookedas if he were on the verge of bursting into indignant or explanatoryspeech every now and then--though, as a matter of fact, he restrainedwhatever instinct he had in that direction. But Mallalieu never moved,never changed his attitude. His expression of disdainful, contemptuouswatchfulness never left him--after the first moments and the formalitieswere over, he kept his eyes on the witness-box and on the people whoentered it. Brereton, since his first meeting with Mallalieu, had oftensaid to himself that the Mayor of Highmarket had the slyest eyes of anyman he had even seen--but he was forced to admit now that, however slyMallalieu's eyes were, they could, on occasion, be extraordinarilysteady.

  The truth was that Mallalieu was playing a part. He had outlined it,unconsciously, when he said to the superintendent that it would be timeenough for him to do something when he knew what could be broughtagainst him. And now all his attention was given to the two or threewitnesses whom the prosecution thought it necessary to call. He wantedto know who they were. He curbed his impatience while the formalevidence of arrest was given, but his ears pricked a little when heheard one of the police witnesses speak of the warrant having beenissued on information received. "What information? Received from whom?"He half-turned as a sharp official voice called the name of the firstimportant witness.

  "David Myler!"

  Mallalieu stared at David Myler as if he would tear whatever secret hehad out of him with a searching glance. Who was David Myler? NoHighmarket man--that was certain. Who was he, then?--what did heknow?--was he some detective who had been privately working up thiscase? A cool, quiet, determined-looking young fellow, anyway. Confoundhim! But--what had he to do with this?

  Those questions were speedily answered for Mallalieu. He kept hisimmovable attitude, his immobile expression, while Myler told the storyof Stoner's visit to Darlington, and of the revelation which hadresulted. And nothing proved his extraordinary command over his temperand his feelings better than the fact that as Myler narrated one damningthing after another, he never showed the least concern or uneasiness.

  But deep within himself Mallalieu was feeling a lot. He knew now that hehad been mistaken in thinking that Stoner had kept his knowledge tohimself. He also knew what line the prosecution was taking. It wasseeking to show that Stoner was murdered by Cotherstone and himself, orby one or other, separately or in collusion, in order that he might besilenced. But he knew more than that. Long practice and much naturalinclination had taught Mallalieu the art of thinking ahead, and hecould foresee as well as any man of his acquaintance. He foresaw thetrend of events in this affair. This was only a preliminary. Theprosecution was charging him and Cotherstone with the murder of Stonertoday: it would be charging them with the murder of Kitely tomorrow.

  Myler's evidence caused a profound sensation in court--but there waseven more sensation and more excitement when Myler's father-in-lawfollowed him in the witness-box. It was literally in a breathlesssilence that the old man told the story of the crime of thirty yearsago; it was a wonderfully dramatic moment when he declared that in spiteof the long time that had elapsed he recognized the Mallalieu andCotherstone of Highmarket as the Mallows and Chidforth whom he had knownat Wilchester.

  Even then Mallalieu had not flinched. Cotherstone flushed, grewrestless, hung his head a little, looked as if he would like to explain.But Mallalieu continued to stare fixedly across the court. He carednothing that the revelation had been made at last. Now that it had beenmade, in full publicity, he did not care a brass farthing if every manand woman in Highmarket knew that he was an ex-gaol-bird. That was faraway in the dead past--what he cared about was the present and thefuture. And his sharp wits told him that if the evidence of Myler and ofold Pursey was all that the prosecution could bring against him, he wassafe. That there had been a secret, that Stoner had come into possessionof it, that Stoner was about to make profit of it, was no proof that heand Cotherstone, or either of them, had murdered Stoner. No--if thatwas all....

  But in another moment Mallalieu knew that it was not all. Up to thatmoment he had firmly believed that he had got away from Hobwick Quarryunobserved. Here he was wrong. He had now to learn that a young man fromNorcaster had come over to Highmarket that Sunday afternoon to visit hissweetheart; that this couple had gone up the moors; that they were onthe opposite side of Hobwick Quarry when he went down into it afterStoner's fall; that they had seen him move about and finally go away;what was more, they had seen Cotherstone descend into the quarry andrecover the stick; Cotherstone had passed near them as they stood hiddenin the bushes; they had seen the stick in his hand.

  When Mallalieu heard all this and saw his stick produced and identified,he ceased to take any further interest in that stage of the proceedings.He knew the worst now, and he began to think of his plans and schemes.And suddenly, all the evidence for that time being over, and themagistrates and the officials being in the thick of some whisperedconsultations about the adjournment, Mallalieu spoke for the first time.

  "I shall have my answer about all this business at the right time andplace," he said loudly. "My partner can do what he likes. All I have tosay now is that I ask for bail. You can fix it at any amoun
t you like.You all know me."

  The magistrates and the officials looked across the well of the court inastonishment, and the chairman, a mild old gentleman who was obviouslymuch distressed by the revelation, shook his head deprecatingly.

  "Impossible!" he remonstrated. "Quite impossible! We haven't thepower----"

  "You're wrong!" retorted Mallalieu, masterful and insistent as ever."You have the power! D'ye think I've been a justice of the peace fortwelve years without knowing what law is? You've the power to admit tobail in all charges of felony, at your discretion. So now then!"

  The magistrates looked at their clerk, and the clerk smiled.

  "Mr. Mallalieu's theory is correct," he said quietly. "But no magistrateis obliged to admit to bail in felonies and misdemeanours, and inpractice bail is never allowed in cases where--as in this case--thecharge is one of murder. Such procedure is unheard of."

  "Make a precedent, then!" sneered Mallalieu. "Here!--you can have twentythousand pounds security, if you like."

  But this offer received no answer, and in five minutes more Mallalieuheard the case adjourned for a week and himself and Cotherstonecommitted to Norcaster Gaol in the meantime. Without a look at hisfellow-prisoner he turned out of the dock and was escorted back to theprivate room in the Town Hall from which he had been brought.

  "Hang 'em for a lot of fools!" he burst out to the superintendent, whohad accompanied him. "Do they think I'm going to run away? Likelything--on a trumped-up charge like this. Here!--how soon shall you bewanting to start for yon place?"

  The superintendent, who had cherished considerable respect for Mallalieuin the past, and was much upset and very downcast about this suddenchange in the Mayor's fortunes, looked at his prisoner and shook hishead.

  "There's a couple of cars ordered to be ready in half an hour, Mr.Mallalieu," he answered. "One for you, and one for Mr. Cotherstone."

  "With armed escorts in both, I suppose!" sneered Mallalieu. "Well, lookhere--you've time to get me a cup of tea. Slip out and get one o' yourmen to nip across to the Arms for it--good, strong tea, and a slice ortwo of bread-and-butter. I can do with it."

  He flung half a crown on the table, and the superintendent, suspectingnothing, and willing to oblige a man who had always been friendly andgenial towards himself, went out of the room, with no furtherprecautions than the turning of the key in the lock when he had once gotoutside the door. It never entered his head that the prisoner would tryto escape, never crossed his mind that Mallalieu had any chance ofescaping. He went away along the corridor to find one of his men whocould be dispatched to the Highmarket Arms.

  But the instant Mallalieu was left alone he started into action. He hadnot been Mayor of Highmarket for two years, a member of its Corporationfor nearly twenty, without knowing all the ins-and-outs of that old TownHall. And as soon as the superintendent had left him he drew from hispocket a key, went across the room to a door which stood in a cornerbehind a curtain, unlocked it, opened it gently, looked out, passed intoa lobby without, relocked the door behind him, and in another instantwas stealing quietly down a private staircase that led to an entranceinto the quaint old garden at the back of the premises. One furthermoment of suspense and of looking round, and he was safely in thatgarden and behind the thick shrubs which ran along one of its highwalls. Yet another and he was out of the garden, and in an old-fashionedorchard which ran, thick with trees, to the very edge of the coppices atthe foot of the Shawl. Once in that orchard, screened by itsclose-branched, low-spreading boughs, leafless though they were at thatperiod of the year, he paused to get his breath, and to chuckle over thesuccess of his scheme. What a mercy, what blessing, he thought, thatthey had not searched him on his arrest!--that they had delayed thatinteresting ceremony until his committal! The omission, he knew, hadbeen winked at--purposely--and it had left him with his preciouswaistcoat, his revolver, and the key that had opened his prison door.

  Dusk had fallen over Highmarket before the hearing came to an end, andit was now dark. Mallalieu knew that he had little time to lose--but healso knew that his pursuers would have hard work to catch him. He hadlaid his plans while the last two witnesses were in the box: hisdetailed knowledge of the town and its immediate neighbourhood stood ingood stead. Moreover, the geographical situation of the Town Hall was agreat help. He had nothing to do but steal out of the orchard into thecoppices, make his way cautiously through them into the deeper woodwhich fringed the Shawl, pass through that to the ridge at the top, andgain the moors. Once on those moors he would strike by devious way forNorcaster--he knew a safe place in the Lower Town there where he couldbe hidden for a month, three months, six months, without fear ofdiscovery, and from whence he could get away by ship.

  All was quiet as he passed through a gap in the orchard hedge and stoleinto the coppices. He kept stealthily but swiftly along through the pineand fir until he came to the wood which covered the higher part of theShawl. The trees were much thicker there, the brakes and bushes werethicker, and the darkness was greater. He was obliged to move at aslower pace--and suddenly he heard men's voices on the lower slopesbeneath him. He paused catching his breath and listening. And then, justas suddenly as he had heard the voices, he felt a hand, firm, steady,sinewy, fasten on his wrist and stay there.