The Middle of Things Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  WHO WAS MR. ASHTON?

  For the first time since they had entered the room, Drillford turned andglanced at Viner; his look indicated the idea which Miss Wickham's lastwords had set up in his mind. Here was a mystery! The police instinct wasaroused by it.

  "You don't know very much about Mr. Ashton?" he said, turning back to thetwo ladies. "Yet--you're under his roof? This is his house, isn't it?"

  "Just so," assented Miss Wickham. "But when I say we don't know much, Imean what I say. Mrs. Killenhall has only known Mr. Ashton a few weeks,and until two months ago I had not seen Mr. Ashton for twelve years.Therefore, neither of us can know much about him."

  "Would you mind telling me what you do know?" asked Drillford. "We've gotto know something--who he is, and so on."

  "All that I know is this," replied Miss Wickham. "My father died inAustralia, when I was about six years old. My mother was already dead,and my father left me in charge of Mr. Ashton. He sent me, very soonafter my father's death, to school in England, and there I remained fortwelve years. About two months ago Mr. Ashton came to England, took thishouse, fetched me from school and got Mrs. Killenhall to look after me.Here we've all been ever since--and beyond that I know scarcelyanything."

  Drillford looked at the elder lady.

  "I know, practically, no more than Miss Wickham has told you," said Mrs.Killenhall. "Mr. Ashton and I got in touch with each other through hisadvertisement in the _Morning Post_. We exchanged references, and Icame here."

  "Ah!" said Drillford. "And--what might his references be, now?"

  "To his bankers, the London and Orient, in Threadneedle Street," answeredMrs. Killenhall promptly. "And to his solicitors, Crawle, Pawle andRattenbury, of Bedford Bow."

  "Very satisfactory they were, no doubt, ma'am?" suggested Drillford.

  Mrs. Killenhall let her eye run round the appointments of the room.

  "Eminently so," she said dryly. "Mr. Ashton was a very wealthy man."

  Drillford pulled out a pocketbook and entered the names which Mrs.Killenhall had just mentioned.

  "The solicitors will be able to tell something," he murmured as he putthe book back. "We'll communicate with them first thing in themorning. But just two questions before I go. Can you tell me anythingabout Mr. Ashton's usual habits? Had he any business? What did he dowith his time?"

  "He was out a great deal," said Mrs. Killenhall. "He used to go down tothe City. He was often out of an evening. Once, since I came here, hewas away for a week in the country--he didn't say where. He was an activeman--always in and out. But he never said much as to where he went."

  "The other question," said Drillford, "is this: Did he carry much on himin the way of valuables or money? I mean--as a rule?"

  "He wore a very fine gold watch and chain," answered Mrs. Killenhall;"and as for money--well, he always seemed to have a lot in his purse. Andhe wore two diamond rings--very fine stones."

  "Just so!" murmured Drillford. "Set upon for the sake of those things, nodoubt. Well, ladies, I shall telephone to Crawle's first thing in themorning, and they'll send somebody along at once, of course. I'm sorryto have brought you such bad news, but--"

  He turned toward the door; Miss Wickham stopped him.

  "Will Mr. Ashton's body be brought here--tonight?" she asked.

  "No," replied Drillford. "It will be taken to the mortuary. If you'llleave everything to me, I'll see that you are spared as much as possible.Of course, there'll have to be an inquest--but you'll hear all about thattomorrow. Leave things to us and to Mr. Ashton's solicitors."

  He moved towards the door, and Viner, until then a silent spectator,looked at Miss Wickham, something impelling him to address her instead ofMrs. Killenhall.

  "I live close by you," he said. "If there is anything that I can do, orthat my aunt Miss Penkridge, who lives with me, can do? Perhaps you willlet me call in the morning."

  The girl looked at him steadily and frankly.

  "Thank you, Mr. Viner," she said. "It would be very kind if you would.We've no men folk--yes, please do."

  "After breakfast, then," answered Viner, and went away to join theInspector, who had walked into the hall.

  "What do you think of this matter?" he asked, when they had got outsidethe house.

  "Oh, a very clear and ordinary case enough, Mr. Viner," repliedDrillford. "No mystery about it at all. Here's this Mr. Ashton beenliving here some weeks--some fellow, the man, of course, whom you sawrunning away, has noticed that he was a very rich man and wore expensivejewellery, has watched him, probably knew that he used that passage as ashort cut, and has laid in wait for him and murdered him for what he'dgot on him. It wouldn't take two minutes to do the whole thing. Rings,now! They spoke of diamond rings, in there. Well, I didn't see anydiamond rings on his hands when I looked at his body, and I particularlynoticed his hands, to see if there were signs of any struggle. Nosir--it's just a plain case of what used to be called highway robberyand murder. But come round with me to the police-station, Mr.Viner--they'll have taken him to the mortuary by now, and I should liketo hear what our divisional surgeon has to say, and what our peopleactually found on the body."

  As Viner and the Inspector walked into the police-station, Dr. Cortelyoncame out. Drillford stopped him.

  "Found out anything more, Doctor?" he asked.

  "Nothing beyond what I said at first," replied Cortelyon. "The man hasbeen stabbed through the heart, from behind, in one particularlywell-delivered blow. I should say the murderer had waited for him in thatpassage, probably knowing his habits. That passage, now--you know itreally will have to be seen to! That wretched old lamp in the middlegives no light at all. The wonder is that something of this sort hasn'toccurred before."

  Drillford muttered something about local authorities and property-ownersand went forward into an office, motioning Viner to follow. Thedivisional surgeon was there in conversation with the sergeant whomDrillford had left in charge of the body. "That is something on which I'dstake my professional reputation," he said. "I'm sure of it."

  "What's that, Doctor?" asked Drillford. "Something to do with thisaffair?"

  "I was saying that whoever stabbed this unfortunate man had someknowledge of anatomy," remarked the doctor. "He was killed by one swiftblow from a particularly keen-edged, thin-bladed weapon which was driventhrough his back at the exact spot. You ought to make a minute searchbehind the walls on either side of that passage--the probability is thatthe murderer threw his weapon away."

  "We'll do all that, Doctor," said Drillford. "As to yoursuggestion--don't you forget that there are a good many criminals here inLondon who are regular experts in the use of the knife--I've seen plentyof instances of that myself. Now," he went on, turning to the sergeant,"about that search? What did you find on him?"

  The sergeant lifted the lid of a desk and pointed to a sheet of foolscappaper whereon lay certain small articles at which Viner gazed with asense of strange fascination. A penknife, a small gold matchbox, agold-mounted pencil-case, some silver coins, a handkerchief, andconspicuous among the rest, a farthing.

  "That's the lot," said the sergeant, "except another handkerchief, and apair of gloves in the overcoat, where I've left them. Nothing else--nowatch, chain, purse or pocketbook. And no rings--but it's very plainfrom his fingers that he wore two rings one on each hand, third fingerin each case."

  "There you are!" said Drillford with a glance at Viner. "Murdered androbbed--clear case! Now, Mr. Viner, give us as accurate a description aspossible of the fellow who ran out of that passage."

  Viner did his best. His recollections were of a young man of about hisown age, about his own height and build, somewhat above the medium; itwas his impression, he said, that the man was dressed, if not shabbily,at least poorly; he had an impression, too, that the clean-shaven facewhich he had seen for a brief moment was thin and worn.

  "Got any recollection of his exact look?" inquired the Inspector. "That'sa lot to go by."

  "I'm tryi
ng to think," said Viner. "Yes--I should say he looked to bepretty hard-up. There was a sort of desperate gleam in his eye. And--"

  "Take your time," remarked Drillford. "Anything you can suggest,you know--"

  "Well," replied Viner. "I'd an idea at the moment, and I've had it since,that I'd seen this man before. Something in his face was familiar. Theonly thing I can think of is this: I potter round old bookshops andcuriosity-shops a good deal--I may have seen this young fellow on someoccasion of that sort."

  "Anyway," suggested Drillford, glancing over the particulars which he hadwritten down, "you'd know him again if you saw him?"

  "Oh, certainly!" asserted Viner. "I should know him anywhere."

  "Then that's all we need trouble you with now, sir," said Drillford. "Thenext business will be--tomorrow."

  Viner walked slowly out of the police-station and still more slowlyhomeward. When he reached the first lamp, he drew out his watch.Half-past twelve! Just two hours ago he had been in his own comfortablelibrary, smiling at Miss Penkridge's ideas about the very matters intoone of which he was now plunged. He would not have been surprised if hehad suddenly awoke, to find that all this was a bad dream, induced by theevening's conversation. But just then he came to the passage in which themurder had been committed. A policeman was on guard at the terraceend--and Viner, rather than hear any more of the matter, hastened pasthim and made a circuitous way to Markendale Square.

  He let himself into his house as quietly as possible, and contraryto taste and custom, went into the dining-room, switched on theelectric light and helped himself to a stiff glass of brandy and sodaat the sideboard. When the mixture was duly prepared, he forgot todrink it. He stood by the sideboard, the glass in his hand, his eyesstaring at vacancy. Nor did he move when a very light foot stole downthe stairs, and Miss Penkridge, in wraps and curl-papers, lookedround the side of the door.

  "Heavens above, Richard!" she exclaimed, "What is the matter! I wonderedif you were burglars! Half-past twelve!"

  Viner suddenly became aware of the glass which he was unconsciouslyholding. He lifted it to his lips, wondering whatever it was that madehis mouth feel so dry. And when he had taken a big gulp, and thenspoke, his voice--to himself--sounded just as queer as his tongue hadbeen feeling.

  "You were right!" he said suddenly. "There are queerer, stranger affairsin life than one fancies! And I--I've been pitchforked--thrown--cleaninto the middle of things! I!"

  Miss Penkridge came closer to him, staring. She looked from him to theglass, from the glass to him.

  "No--I haven't been drinking," said Viner with a harsh laugh. "I'mdrinking now, and I'm going to have another, too. Listen!"

  He pushed her gently into a chair, and seating himself on the edge of thetable, told her the adventure. And Miss Penkridge, who was an admirablelistener to fictitious tales of horror, proved herself no less admirablein listening to one of plain fact, and made no comment until her nephewhad finished.

  "That poor man!" she said at last. "Such a fine, strong, healthy-lookingman, too! I used to wonder about him, when I saw him in the square, Iused to think of him as somebody who'd seen things!"

  Viner made a sudden grimace.

  "Don't!" he said. "Ugh! I've seen things tonight that I never wished tosee! And I wish--"

  "What?" demanded Miss Penkridge after a pause, during which Viner had satstaring at the floor.

  "I wish to God I'd never seen that poor devil who was running away!"exclaimed Viner with sudden passion. "They'll catch him, and I shall haveto give evidence against him, and my evidence'll hang him, and--"

  "There's a lot to do, and a lot'll happen before that comes off,Richard," interrupted Miss Penkridge. "The man may be innocent."

  "He'd have a nice job to prove it!" said Viner with a forced laugh. "No,if the police get him--besides, he was running straight from the place!Isn't it a queer thing?" he went on, laughing again. "I don't mindremembering the--the dead man, but I hate the recollection of that chaphurrying away! I wonder what it feels like when you've just murderedanother fellow, to slink off like--"

  "You've no business to be wondering any such thing!" said Miss Penkridgesharply. "Here--get yourself another brandy and soda, and let us talkbusiness. These two women--did they feel it much?"

  "They puzzled me," replied Viner. He took his aunt's advice about theextra glass, and obeyed her, too, when she silently pointed to a box ofcigars which lay on the sideboard. "All right," he said after a minuteor two. "I'm not going to have nerves. What was I saying? They puzzledme? Yes, puzzled. Especially the girl; she seemed so collected abouteverything. And yet, according to her own story, she's only just out ofthe schoolroom. You'll go round there with me?"

  "If we can be of any service to them? certainly," assented MissPenkridge.

  "The girl said they'd no men folk," remarked Viner.

  "In that case I shall certainly go," said Miss Penkridge. "Now, Richard,smoke your cigar, and think no more about all this till tomorrow."

  Viner flung himself into an easy-chair.

  "All right!" he said. "Don't bother! It's been a bit of a facer, but--"

  He was astonished when he woke the next morning, much later than was hiswont, to find that he had not dreamed about the events of the midnight.And he was his usual practical and cool-headed self when, at eleveno'clock, he stood waiting in the hall for Miss Penkridge to go round withhim to number seven. But the visit was not to be paid just then--as theywere about to leave the house, a police-officer came hurrying up andaccosted Viner. Inspector Drillford's compliments, and would Mr. Vinercome round? And then the messenger gave a knowing grin.

  "We've got the man, sir!" he whispered. "That's why you're wanted."