The Middle of Things Read online

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE BROKEN LETTER

  The man whose extraordinary story had excited such intense interest hadbecome the object of universal attention. Hyde, hitherto the centre ofattraction, was already forgotten, and instead of people going away fromthe court to canvass his guilt or his innocence, they surged round thewitness whose testimony, strange and unexpected, had so altered theprobabilities of the case. It was with difficulty that Methley got hisclient away into a private room; there they were joined by Mr. Carless,Mr. Pawle, Mr. Perkwite, Lord Ellingham and Viner, and behind a lockeddoor these men looked at each other and at this centre of interest withthe air of those to whom something extraordinary has just been told.After a moment of silence Mr. Carless spoke, addressing the man whosestory had brought matters to an undeniable crisis.

  "I am sure," he said gravely, and with a side glance at Lord Ellingham,"that if your story is true, sir,--and after what we have just heard, Iam beginning to think that my first conclusions may have been wrongones,--no one will welcome your reappearance more warmly than the younggentleman whom you will turn out of title and property! But you must seefor yourself that your claims must be thoroughly investigated--and aswhat you have now just told affects other people, and we must invite youto full discussion, I propose that, for the time being, we address you asMr. Cave."

  The claimant smiled, and nodded genially to the young man whose uncle healleged himself to be.

  "I wish to remain Mr. Cave," he said. "I don't want to turn my nephew outof title and property, so long as he will do something for his old uncle.Call me Mr. Cave, by all means."

  "We must talk--and at once," said Mr. Carless. "There are several pointsarising out of your evidence on which you must give me information.Whoever is at the back of that woman who handed you those papers isprobably the murderer of John Ashton--and that is what must be got at.Now, where can we have a conference--immediately?--Your office, Methley,is not far away, I think."

  "My house is nearer," said Viner. "Come--we shall be perfectly quiet inmy study, and there will be nothing to interrupt us. Let us go now."

  A police official let them out by a side-door, and Viner and Mr. Pawleled the way through some side-streets to Markendale Square, the otherscoming behind, conversing eagerly about the events of the morning. Mr.Pawle, on his part, was full of excitement.

  "If we can only trace that woman, Viner!" he exclaimed. "That's the nextthing! Get hold of her, whoever she is, and then--ah, we shall be insight of the finishing-part."

  "What about tracing the whole lot through the check he has given?"suggested Viner. "Wouldn't that be a good way?"

  "We should have to wait nearly a month," answered Mr. Pawle. "And eventhen it would be difficult--simple though it seems at first sight. Thereare folk who deal in post-dated checks, remember! This may have beendealt with already--aye, and that diamond too; and the man who has gotthe proceeds may already be many a mile away. Deep, cunning folk they arewho have been in this, Viner. And now--speed is the thing!"

  Viner led his guests into his library, and as he placed chairs for themround a centre table, an idea struck him.

  "I have a suggestion to make," he said with a shy smile at the legal men."My aunt, Miss Penkridge, who lives with me, is an unusually sharp,shrewd woman. She has taken vast interest in this affair, and I have kepther posted up in all its details. She was in court just now and heard Mr.Cave's story. If no one has any objection, I should like her to bepresent at our deliberations--as a mysterious woman has entered into thecase, Miss Penkridge may be able to suggest something."

  "Excellent idea!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "A shrewd woman is worth herweight in gold! By all means bring Miss Penkridge in--she may, as yousay, make some suggestion."

  Miss Penkridge, fetched into the room and duly introduced, lost notime in making a suggestion of an eminently practical nature--that asall these gentlemen had been cooped up in that stuffy police-court fortwo or three hours, they would be none the worse for a glass of wine,and she immediately disappeared, jingling a bunch of keys, to reappeara few minutes later in charge of the parlour-maid carrying decantersand glasses.

  "A very comfortable suggestion, that, ma'am," observed Mr. Carless,bowing to his hostess over a glass of old sherry. "Your intuition doesyou credit! But now, gentlemen, and Miss Penkridge, straight to business!Mr. Cave, the first question I want to put to you is this: on what datedid you receive the letter which you exhibited in court this morning?"

  Mr. Cave produced a small pocket diary and turned over its pages.

  "I can tell you that," he answered. "I made a note of it at the time. Itwas--yes, here we are--on the twenty-first of November."

  "And you received these papers, I think you said, two days later?"

  "Yes--on the twenty-third. Here is the entry."

  Mr. Carless looked round at the assembled faces.

  "John Ashton was murdered on the night of the twenty-second of November,"he remarked significantly. "Therefore he had not been murdered when theveiled woman first met Mr. Cave for the first time, and he had beenmurdered when she met Mr. Cave the second time!"

  There was a silence as significant as Mr. Carless' tone upon this--brokenat last by Mr. Cave.

  "If I may say a word or two," he remarked diffidently. "I don'tunderstand matters about this John Ashton. The barrister who asked mequestions--Mr. Millington-Bywater, is it--said that he, or somebody, hadpositive proof that Mr. Ashton had my papers in his possession for sometime previous to his death. Is that really so?"

  Mr. Carless pointed to Mr. Perkwite.

  "This is the gentleman whom Mr. Millington-Bywater could have put in thebox this morning to prove that," he replied. "Mr. Perkwite, of the MiddleTemple--a barrister-at-law, Mr. Cave. Mr. Perkwite met Mr. Ashton somethree months ago at Marseilles, and Mr. Ashton then not only asked hisadvice about the Ellingham affair, alleging that he knew the missing LordMarketstoke, but showed him the papers which you have recently depositedwith Mr. Methley here--which papers, Ashton alleged, were intrusted tohim by Lord Marketstoke on his deathbed. Ashton, according to Mr.Perkwite, took particular care of these papers, and always carried themabout with him in a pocketbook."

  Mr. Cave appeared to be much exercised in thought on hearing this.

  "It is, of course, absurd to say that Lord Marketstoke--myself!--intrusted papers to any one on his deathbed, since I am verymuch alive," he said. "But it is, equally of course, quite possible thatAshton had my papers. Who was Ashton?"

  "A man who had lived in Australia for some thirty-five or forty years atleast," replied Mr. Carless, "and who recently returned to England andsettled down in London, in this very square. He lived chiefly inMelbourne, but we have heard that for some four or five years he wassomewhere up country. You never heard of him out there? He was evidentlywell known in Melbourne."

  "No, I never heard of him," replied Mr. Cave. "But I don't knowMelbourne very well; I know Sydney and Brisbane better. However, an ideastrikes me--Ashton may have had something to do with the purloining ofmy letters and effects at Wirra-Worra, when I met with the accident Itold you of."

  "So far as we are aware," remarked Mr. Carless, "Ashton was an eminentlyrespectable man!"

  "So far as you know!" said Mr. Cave. "There is a good deal in the savingclause, I think. I have known a good many men in Australia who werehighly respectable in the last stages of life who had been anything butthat in their earlier ones! Of what class was this Ashton?"

  "I met him, occasionally," said Methley, "though I never knew who he wasuntil after his death. He was a very pleasant, kindly, good-humouredman--but," he added, "I should say, from his speech and manners, a manwho had risen from a somewhat humble position of life. I remembernoticing his hands--they were the hands of a man who at some period haddone hard manual labour."

  Mr. Cave smiled knowingly.

  "There you are!" he said. "He had probably been a miner! Takingeverything into consideration, I am inclined to believe that he wasmost likely one of
the men, or the man, who stole my papers thirty-twoyears ago."

  "There may be something in this," remarked Mr. Pawle, glancing uneasilyat Mr. Carless. "It is a fact that the packet of letters to which Mr.Cave referred this morning as having been written by the Countess ofEllingham to Lord Marketstoke when a boy at school, was found by Mr.Viner and myself in Ashton's house, and that the locket which he alsomentioned is in existence--facts which Mr. Cave will doubtless be glad toknow of. But," added the old lawyer, shaking his head, "what does allthis imply? That Ashton, of whom up to now we have heard nothing butgood, was not only a thief, but an impostor who was endeavouring, ormeant to endeavour, to palm off a bogus claimant on people, who, but forMr. Cave's appearance and evidence, would certainly have been deceived!It is most amazing."

  "Don't forget," said Viner quietly, "that Mr. Perkwite says that Ashtonshowed him at Marseilles a certain marriage certificate and a birthcertificate."

  Mr. Carless started.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed. "I had forgotten that. Um! However, don't let usforget, just now, that our main object in meeting was to do somethingtowards tracking these people who gave Mr. Cave these papers. Now, Mr.Cave, you got no information out of the woman?"

  "None!" answered Mr. Cave. "I was not to ask questions, you remember."

  "You took her for a gentlewoman?"

  "Yes--from her speech and manner."

  "Did she imply to you that she was an intermediary?"

  "Yes--she spoke of some one, indefinitely, you know, for whom shewas acting."

  "And she told you, I think, that you had been recognized, inLondon, since your arrival, by some one who had known you inAustralia years before?"

  "Yes--certainly she told me that."

  "Just let me look at that typewritten letter again, will you?" asked Mr.Carless. "It seems impossible, but we might get something out of that."

  Mr. Cave handed the letter over, and once more it was passed from hand tohand: finally it fell into the hands of Miss Penkridge, who began toexamine it with obvious curiosity.

  "Afraid there's nothing to be got out of that!" sighed Mr. Carless. "Therogues were cunning enough to typewrite the message--if there'd been anyhandwriting, now, we might have had a chance! You say there was nothingon the envelope but your name, Mr. Cave?"

  Mr. Cave opened his pocketbook again.

  "There is the envelope," he said. "Nothing but _Mr. Cave_, as yousee--that is also typewritten."

  Miss Penkridge picked up the envelope as Mr. Cave tossed it across thetable. She appeared to examine it carefully, but suddenly she turned toMr. Carless.

  "There _is_ a clue in these things!" she exclaimed. "A plain clue! Onethat's plain enough to me, anyway. I could follow it up. I don't knowwhether you gentlemen can."

  Mr. Carless, who had, up to that point, treated Miss Penkridge withgood-humoured condescension, turned sharply upon her.

  "What do you mean, ma'am?" he asked. "You really see something in--in atypewritten letter?"

  "A great deal!" answered Miss Penkridge. "And in the stationery onwhich it's typed, and in the envelope in which it's inclosed. Now lookhere: This letter has been typed on a half-sheet of notepaper. Holdthe half-sheet up to the light--what do you see? One half of the nameand address of the stationer who supplied it, in watermark. What isthat one half?"

  Mr. Carless held the paper to the light and saw on the top line, ..."_sforth,"_ on the middle line, ... "_nd Stationer_" and, ... "_n Hill_"on the bottom line.

  "My nephew there," went on Miss Penkridge, "knows what that would be, infull, if the other half of the sheet were here. It would be preciselywhat it is under the flap of this envelope--there you are!'_Bigglesforth, Bookseller and Stationer, Craven Hill.'_ Everybody inthis district knows Bigglesforth--we get our stationery from him. Now,Bigglesforth has not such a very big business in really expensivenotepaper like this--the other half of the sheet, of course, would have afinely engraved address on it--and you can trace the owner of this paperthrough him, with patience and trouble.

  "But here's a still better clue! Look at this typewritten letter. Init, the letter _o_ occurs with frequency. Now, notice--the letter isbroken, imperfect; the top left-hand curve has been chipped off. Doyou mean to tell me that with time and trouble and patience you can'tfind out to whom that machine belongs? Taking the fact that thishalf-sheet of notepaper came from Bigglesforth's, of Craven Hill,"concluded Miss Penkridge with emphasis, "I should say that thisdocument--so important--came from somebody who doesn't live a millionmiles from here!"

  Mr. Carless had followed Miss Penkridge with admiring attention, and henow rose to his feet.

  "Ma'am," he exclaimed, "Mr. Viner's notion of having you to join ourcouncil has proved invaluable! I'll have that clue followed up instantly!Gentlemen, we can do no more just now--let us separate. Mr. Cave--you'llcontinue to be heard of at the Belfield Hotel?"

  "I shall be at your service any time, Mr. Carless," responded Mr. Cave."A telephone message will bring me at once to Lincoln's Inn Fields."

  The assembly broke up, and Viner was left alone with Miss Penkridge.

  "That was clever of you!" he said, admiringly. "I should never havenoticed that. But--there are a lot of typewriting machines in London!"

  "Not so many owned by customers of Bigglesforth's!" retorted MissPenkridge. "I'd work it out, if I were a detective!"

  The parlour-maid looked in and attracted Viner's attention.

  "Mr. Felpham wants you at the telephone, sir," she said.