The Middle Temple Murder Read online

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE MAN FROM THE SAFE DEPOSIT

  Spargo found Rathbury sitting alone in a small, somewhat dismalapartment which was chiefly remarkable for the business-like paucity ofits furnishings and its indefinable air of secrecy. There was a plainwriting-table and a hard chair or two; a map of London, muchdiscoloured, on the wall; a few faded photographs of eminent bands inthe world of crime, and a similar number of well-thumbed books ofreference. The detective himself, when Spargo was shown in to him, wasseated at the table, chewing an unlighted cigar, and engaged in theapparently aimless task of drawing hieroglyphics on scraps of paper. Helooked up as the journalist entered, and held out his hand.

  "Well, I congratulate you on what you stuck in the _Watchman_ thismorning," he said. "Made extra good reading, I thought. They did rightto let you tackle that job. Going straight through with it now, Isuppose, Mr. Spargo?"

  Spargo dropped into the chair nearest to Rathbury's right hand. Helighted a cigarette, and having blown out a whiff of smoke, nodded hishead in a fashion which indicated that the detective might consider hisquestion answered in the affirmative.

  "Look here," he said. "We settled yesterday, didn't we, that you and Iare to consider ourselves partners, as it were, in this job? That's allright," he continued, as Rathbury nodded very quietly. "Very well--haveyou made any further progress?"

  Rathbury put his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat and, leaningback in his chair, shook his head.

  "Frankly, I haven't," he replied. "Of course, there's a lot being donein the usual official-routine way. We've men out making variousenquiries. We're enquiring about Marbury's voyage to England. All thatwe know up to now is that he was certainly a passenger on a liner whichlanded at Southampton in accordance with what he told those people atthe Anglo-Orient, that he left the ship in the usual way and wasunderstood to take the train to town--as he did. That's all. There'snothing in that. We've cabled to Melbourne for any news of him fromthere. But I expect little from that."

  "All right," said Spargo. "And--what are you doing--you, yourself?Because, if we're to share facts, I must know what my partner's after.Just now, you seemed to be--drawing."

  Rathbury laughed.

  "Well, to tell you the truth," he said, "when I want to work thingsout, I come into this room--it's quiet, as you see--and I scribbleanything on paper while I think. I was figuring on my next step, and--"

  "Do you see it?" asked Spargo, quickly.

  "Well--I want to find the man who went with Marbury to that hotel,"replied Rathbury. "It seems to me--"

  Spargo wagged his finger at his fellow-contriver.

  "I've found him," he said. "That's what I wrote that article for--tofind him. I knew it would find him. I've never had any training in yoursort of work, but I knew that article would get him. And it has gothim."

  Rathbury accorded the journalist a look of admiration.

  "Good!" he said. "And--who is he?"

  "I'll tell you the story," answered Spargo, "and in a summary. Thismorning a man named Webster, a farmer, a visitor to London, came to meat the office, and said that being at the House of Commons last nighthe witnessed a meeting between Marbury and a man who was evidently aMember of Parliament, and saw them go away together. I showed him analbum of photographs of the present members, and he immediatelyrecognized the portrait of one of them as the man in question. Ithereupon took the portrait to the Anglo-Orient Hotel--Mrs. Waltersalso at once recognized it as that of the man who came to the hotelwith Marbury, stopped with him a while in his room, and left with him.The man is Mr. Stephen Aylmore, the member for Brookminster."

  Rathbury expressed his feelings in a sharp whistle.

  "I know him!" he said. "Of course--I remember Mrs. Walters'sdescription now. But his is a familiar type--tall, grey-bearded,well-dressed. Um!--well, we'll have to see Mr. Aylmore at once."

  "I've seen him," said Spargo. "Naturally! For you see, Mrs. Waltersgave me a bit more evidence. This morning they found a loose diamond onthe floor of Number 20, and after it was found the waiter who took thedrinks up to Marbury and his guest that night remembered that when heentered the room the two gentlemen were looking at a paper full ofsimilar objects. So then I went on to see Mr. Aylmore. You know youngBreton, the barrister?--you met him with me, you remember?"

  "The young fellow whose name and address were found on Marbury,"replied Rathbury. "I remember."

  "Breton is engaged to Aylmore's daughter," continued Spargo. "Bretontook me to Aylmore's club. And Aylmore gives a plain, straightforwardaccount of the matter which he's granted me leave to print. It clearsup a lot of things. Aylmore knew Marbury over twenty years ago. He lostsight of him. They met accidentally in the lobby of the House on theevening preceding the murder. Marbury told him that he wanted hisadvice about those rare things, Australian diamonds. He went back withhim to his hotel and spent a while with him; then they walked outtogether as far as Waterloo Bridge, where Aylmore left him and wenthome. Further, the scrap of grey paper is accounted for. Marbury wantedthe address of a smart solicitor; Aylmore didn't know of one but toldMarbury that if he called on young Breton, he'd know, and would put himin the way to find one. Marbury wrote Breton's address down. That'sAylmore's story. But it's got an important addition. Aylmore says thatwhen he left Marbury, Marbury had on him a quantity of those diamondsin a wash-leather bag, a lot of gold, and a breast-pocket full ofletters and papers. Now--there was nothing on him when he was founddead in Middle Temple Lane."

  Spargo stopped and lighted a fresh cigarette.

  "That's all I know," he said. "What do you make of it?"

  Rathbury leaned back in his chair in his apparently favourite attitudeand stared hard at the dusty ceiling above him.

  "Don't know," he said. "It brings things up to a point, certainly.Aylmore and Marbury parted at Waterloo Bridge--very late. WaterlooBridge is pretty well next door to the Temple. But--how did Marbury getinto the Temple, unobserved? We've made every enquiry, and we can'ttrace him in any way as regards that movement. There's a clue for hisgoing there in the scrap of paper bearing Breton's address, but even aColonial would know that no business was done in the Temple atmidnight, eh?"

  "Well," said Spargo, "I've thought of one or two things. He may havebeen one of those men who like to wander around at night. He may haveseen--he would see--plenty of lights in the Temple at that hour; hemay have slipped in unobserved--it's possible, it's quite possible. Ionce had a moonlight saunter in the Temple myself after midnight, andhad no difficulty about walking in and out, either. But--if Marbury wasmurdered for the sake of what he had on him--how did he meet with hismurderer or murderers in there? Criminals don't hang about MiddleTemple Lane."

  The detective shook his head. He picked up his pencil and began makingmore hieroglyphics.

  "What's your theory, Mr. Spargo?" he asked suddenly. "I suppose you'vegot one."

  "Have you?" asked Spargo, bluntly.

  "Well," returned Rathbury, hesitatingly, "I hadn't, up to now. Butnow--now, after what you've told me, I think I can make one. It seemsto me that after Marbury left Aylmore he probably mooned about byhimself, that he was decoyed into the Temple, and was there murderedand robbed. There are a lot of queer ins and outs, nooks and corners inthat old spot, Mr. Spargo, and the murderer, if he knew his groundwell, could easily hide himself until he could get away in the morning.He might be a man who had access to chambers or offices--think how easyit would be for such a man, having once killed and robbed his victim,to lie hid for hours afterwards? For aught we know, the man whomurdered Marbury may have been within twenty feet of you when you firstsaw his dead body that morning. Eh?"

  Before Spargo could reply to this suggestion an official entered theroom and whispered a few words in the detective's ear.

  "Show him in at once," said Rathbury. He turned to Spargo as the manquitted the room and smiled significantly. "Here's somebody wants totell something about the Marbury case," he remarked. "Let's hope it'llbe news worth hearing."
/>   Spargo smiled in his queer fashion.

  "It strikes me that you've only got to interest an inquisitive publicin order to get news," he said. "The principal thing is to investigateit when you've got it. Who's this, now?"

  The official had returned with a dapper-looking gentleman in afrock-coat and silk hat, bearing upon him the unmistakable stamp of thecity man, who inspected Rathbury with deliberation and Spargo with aglance, and being seated turned to the detective as undoubtedly theperson he desired to converse with.

  "I understand that you are the officer in charge of the Marbury murdercase," he observed. "I believe I can give you some valuable informationin respect to that. I read the account of the affair in the _Watchman_newspaper this morning, and saw the portrait of the murdered man there,and I was at first inclined to go to the _Watchman_ office with myinformation, but I finally decided to approach the police instead ofthe Press, regarding the police as being more--more responsible."

  "Much obliged to you, sir," said Rathbury, with a glance at Spargo."Whom have I the pleasure of----"

  "My name," replied the visitor, drawing out and laying down a card, "isMyerst--Mr. E.P. Myerst, Secretary of the London and Universal SafeDeposit Company. I may, I suppose, speak with confidence," continuedMr. Myerst, with a side-glance at Spargo. "My informationis--confidential."

  Rathbury inclined his head and put his fingers together.

  "You may speak with every confidence, Mr. Myerst," he answered. "Ifwhat you have to tell has any real bearing on the Marbury case, it willprobably have to be repeated in public, you know, sir. But at presentit will be treated as private."

  "It has a very real bearing on the case, I should say," replied Mr.Myerst. "Yes, I should decidedly say so. The fact is that on June 21stat about--to be precise--three o'clock in the afternoon, a stranger,who gave the name of John Marbury, and his present address as theAnglo-Orient Hotel, Waterloo, called at our establishment, and asked ifhe could rent a small safe. He explained to me that he desired todeposit in such a safe a small leather box--which, by the by, was ofremarkably ancient appearance--that he had brought with him. I showedhim a safe such as he wanted, informed him of the rent, and of therules of the place, and he engaged the safe, paid the rent for one yearin advance, and deposited his leather box--an affair of about a footsquare--there and then. After that, having exchanged a remark or twoabout the altered conditions of London, which, I understood him to say,he had not seen for a great many years, he took his key and hisdeparture. I think there can be no doubt about this being the Mr.Marbury who was found murdered."

  "None at all, I should say, Mr. Myerst," said Rathbury. "And I'm muchobliged to you for coming here. Now you might tell me a little more,sir. Did Marbury tell you anything about the contents of the box?"

  "No. He merely remarked that he wished the greatest care to be taken ofit," replied the secretary.

  "Didn't give you any hint as to what was in it?" asked Rathbury.

  "None. But he was very particular to assure himself that it could notbe burnt, nor burgled, nor otherwise molested," replied Mr. Myerst. "Heappeared to be greatly relieved when he found that it was impossiblefor anyone but himself to take his property from his safe."

  "Ah!" said Rathbury, winking at Spargo. "So he would, no doubt. AndMarbury himself, sir, now? How did he strike you?"

  Mr. Myerst gravely considered this question.

  "Mr. Marbury struck me," he answered at last, "as a man who hadprobably seen strange places. And before leaving he made, what I willterm, a remarkable remark. About--in fact, about his leather box."

  "His leather box?" said Rathbury. "And what was it, sir?"

  "This," replied the secretary. "'That box,' he said, 'is safe now. Butit's been safer. It's been buried--and deep-down, too--for many andmany a year!'"