The Borough Treasurer Read online

  CHAPTER VIII

  RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE

  Instead of replying to the policeman by word or movement, Mallalieuglanced at Cotherstone. There was a curious suggestion in that glancewhich Cotherstone did not like. He was already angry; Mallalieu'sinquiring look made him still angrier.

  "Like to come?" asked Mallalieu, laconically.

  "No!" answered Cotherstone, turning towards the office. "It's naught tome."

  He disappeared within doors, and Mallalieu walked out of the yard intothe High Street--to run against Bent and Brereton, who were hurrying inthe direction of the police-station, in company with another constable.

  "Ah!" said Mallalieu as they met. "So you've heard, too, I suppose?Heard that Harborough's been taken, I mean. Now, how was he taken?" hewent on, turning to the policeman who had summoned him. "And when, andwhere?--let's be knowing about it."

  "He wasn't taken, your Worship," replied the man. "Leastways, not inwhat you'd call the proper way. He came back to his house half an houror so ago--when it was just getting nicely light--and two of our menthat were there told him what was going on, and he appeared to comestraight down with them. He says he knows naught, your Worship."

  "That's what you'd expect," remarked Mallalieu, drily. "He'd be a foolif he said aught else."

  He put his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, and, followed by theothers, strolled into the police-station as if he were dropping in onbusiness of trifling importance. And there was nothing to be seen therewhich betokened that a drama of life and death was being constructed inthat formal-looking place of neutral-coloured walls, precise furniture,and atmosphere of repression. Three or four men stood near thesuperintendent's desk; a policeman was writing slowly and laboriously ona big sheet of blue paper at a side-table, a woman was coaxing asluggish fire to burn.

  "The whole thing's ridiculous!" said a man's scornful voice. "Itshouldn't take five seconds to see that."

  Brereton instinctively picked out the speaker. That was Harborough, ofcourse--the tall man who stood facing the others and looking at them asif he wondered how they could be as foolish as he evidently consideredthem to be. He looked at this man with great curiosity. There wascertainly something noticeable about him, he decided. A wiry, alert,keen-eyed man, with good, somewhat gipsy-like features, much tanned bythe weather, as if he were perpetually exposed to sun and wind, rain andhail; sharp of movement, evidently of more than ordinary intelligence,and, in spite of his rough garments and fur cap, having an indefinableair of gentility and breeding about him. Brereton had already noticedthe pitch and inflection of his voice; now, as Harborough touched hiscap to the Mayor, he noticed that his hands, though coarsened andweather-browned, were well-shaped and delicate. Something about him,something in his attitude, the glance of his eye, seemed to indicatethat he was the social superior of the policemen, uniformed orplain-clothed, who were watching him with speculative and slightlypuzzled looks.

  "Well, and what's all this, now?" said Mallalieu coming to a halt andlooking round. "What's he got to say, like?"

  The superintendent looked at Harborough and nodded. And Harborough tookthat nod at its true meaning, and he spoke--readily.

  "This!" he said, turning to the new-comers, and finally addressinghimself to Mallalieu. "And it's what I've already said to thesuperintendent here. I know nothing about what's happened to Kitely. Iknow no more of his murder than you do--not so much, I should say--for Iknow naught at all beyond what I've been told. I left my house at eighto'clock last night--I've been away all night--I got back at six o'clockthis morning. As soon as I heard what was afoot, I came straight here. Iput it to you, Mr. Mayor--if I'd killed this old man, do you think I'dhave come back? Is it likely?"

  "You might ha' done, you know," answered Mallalieu. "There's noaccounting for what folks will do--in such cases. But--what else? Sayaught you like--it's all informal, this."

  "Very well," continued Harborough. "They tell me the old man wasstrangled by a piece of cord that was evidently cut off one of my coils.Now, is there any man in his common senses would believe that if I didthat job, I should leave such a bit of clear evidence behind me? I'm nota fool!"

  "You might ha' been interrupted before you could take that cord off hisneck," suggested Mallalieu.

  "Aye--but you'd have to reckon up the average chances of that!"exclaimed Harborough, with a sharp glance at the bystanders. "And thechances are in my favour. No, sir!--whoever did this job, cut thatlength of cord off my coil, which anybody could get at, and used it tothrow suspicion on me! That's the truth--and you'll find it out someday, whatever happens now."

  Mallalieu exchanged glances with the superintendent and then facedHarborough squarely, with an air of inviting confidence.

  "Now, my lad!" he said, almost coaxingly. "There's a very simple thingto do, and it'll clear this up as far as you're concerned. Just answer aplain question. Where ha' you been all night?"

  A tense silence fell--broken by the crackling of the wood in the grate,which the charwoman had at last succeeded in stirring into a blaze, andby the rattling of the fire-irons which she now arranged in the fender.Everybody was watching the suspected man, and nobody as keenly asBrereton. And Brereton saw that a deadlock was at hand. A strange lookof obstinacy and hardness came into Harborough's eyes, and he shook hishead.

  "No!" he answered. "I shan't say! The truth'll come out in good timewithout that. It's not necessary for me to say. Where I was during thenight is my business--nobody else's."

  "You'll not tell?" asked Mallalieu.

  "I shan't tell," replied Harborough.

  "You're in danger, you know," said Mallalieu.

  "In your opinion," responded Harborough, doggedly. "Not in mine! There'slaw in this country. You can arrest me, if you like--but you'll haveyour work set to prove that I killed yon old man. No, sir! But----" herehe paused, and looking round him, laughed almost maliciously "--but I'lltell you what I'll do," he went on. "I'll tell you this, if it'll do youany good--if I liked to say the word, I could prove my innocence down tothe ground! There!"

  "And you won't say that word?" asked Mallalieu.

  "I shan't! Why? Because it's not necessary. Why!" demanded Harborough,laughing with an expresssion of genuine contempt. "What is there againstme? Naught! As I say, there's law in this country--there's such a thingas a jury. Do you believe that any jury would convict a man on whatyou've got? It's utter nonsense!"

  The constable who had come down from the Shawl with Bent and Breretonhad for some time been endeavouring to catch the eye of thesuperintendent. Succeeding in his attempts at last, he beckoned thatofficial into a quiet corner of the room, and turning his back on thegroup near the fireplace, pulled something out of his pocket. The twomen bent over it, and the constable began to talk in whispers.

  Mallalieu meanwhile was eyeing Harborough in his stealthy, steadyfashion. He looked as if he was reckoning him up.

  "Well, my lad," he observed at last. "You're making a mistake. If youcan't or won't tell what you've been doing with yourself between eightlast night and six this morning, why, then----"

  The superintendent came back, holding something in his hand. He, too,looked at Harborough.

  "Will you hold up your left foot?--turn the sole up," he asked. "Just tosee--something."

  Harborough complied, readily, but with obvious scornful impatience. Andwhen he had shown the sole of the left foot, the superintendent openedhis hand and revealed a small crescent-shaped bit of bright steel.

  "That's off the toe of your boot, Harborough," he said. "You know it is!And it's been picked up--just now, as it were--where this affairhappened. You must have lost it there during the last few hours, becauseit's quite bright--not a speck of rust on it, you see. What do you sayto that, now?"

  "Naught!" retorted Harborough, defiantly. "It is mine, of course--Inoticed it was working loose yesterday. And if it was picked up in thatwood, what then? I passed through there last night on my way to--where Iwas going. God--you don't mean to say you
'd set a man's life on bitso'things like that!"

  Mallalieu beckoned the superintendent aside and talked with him. Almostat once he himself turned away and left the room, and thesuperintendent came back to the group by the fireplace.

  "Well, there's no help for it, Harborough," he said. "We shall have todetain you--and I shall have to charge you, presently. It can't behelped--and I hope you'll be able to clear yourself."

  "I expected nothing else," replied Harborough. "I'm not blaming you--noranybody. Mr. Bent," he continued, turning to where Bent and Breretonstood a little apart. "I'd be obliged to you if you'd do something forme. Go and tell my daughter about this, if you please! You see, I camestraight down here--I didn't go into my house when I got back. If you'djust step up and tell her--and bid her not be afraid--there's naught tobe afraid of, as she'll find--as everybody'll find."

  "Certainly," said Bent. "I'll go at once." He tapped Brereton on thearm, and led him out into the street. "Well?" he asked, when they wereoutside. "What do you think of that, now?"

  "That man gives one all the suggestion of innocence," remarked Brereton,thoughtfully, "and from a merely superficial observation of him, I,personally, should say he is innocent. But then, you know, I've knownthe most hardened and crafty criminals assume an air of innocence, andkeep it up, to the very end. However, we aren't concerned about thatjust now--the critical point here, for Harborough, at any rate, is theevidence against him."

  "And what do you think of that?" asked Bent.

  "There's enough to warrant his arrest," answered Brereton, "and he'll becommitted on it, and he'll go for trial. All that's certain--unlesshe's a sensible man, and tells what he was doing with himself betweeneight and ten o'clock last night."

  "Ah, and why doesn't he?" said Bent. "He must have some good reason. Iwonder if his daughter can persuade him?"

  "Isn't that his daughter coming towards us?" inquired Brereton.

  Bent glanced along the road and saw Avice Harborough at a littledistance, hastening in their direction and talking earnestly to amiddle-aged man who was evidently listening with grave concern to whatshe said.

  "Yes, that's she," he replied, "and that's Northrop with her--the manthat Mallalieu was playing cards with last night. She's governess toNorthrop's two younger children--I expect she's heard about her father,and has been to get Northrop to come down with her--he's a magistrate."

  Avice listened with ill-concealed impatience while Bent delivered hismessage. He twice repeated Harborough's injunction that she was not tobe afraid, and her impatience increased.

  "I'm not afraid," she answered. "That is, afraid of nothing but myfather's obstinacy! I know him. And I know that if he's said he won'ttell anything about his whereabouts last night, he won't! And if youwant to help him--as you seem to do--you must recognize that."

  "Wouldn't he tell you?" suggested Brereton.

  The girl shook her head.

  "Once or twice a year," she answered, "he goes away for a night, likethat, and I never know--never have known--where he goes. There's somemystery about it--I know there is. He won't tell--he'll let things go tothe last, and even then he won't tell. You won't be able to help himthat way--there's only one way you can help."

  "What way?" asked Bent.

  "Find the murderer!" exclaimed Avice with a quick flash of her eyes inBrereton's direction. "My father is as innocent as I am--find the manwho did it and clear him that way. Don't wait for what these policepeople do--they'll waste time over my father. Do something! They're allon the wrong track--let somebody get on the right one!"

  "She's right!" said Northrop, a shrewd-faced little man, who lookedgenuinely disturbed. "You know what police are, Mr. Bent--if they gethold of one notion they're deaf to all others. While they'reconcentrating on Harborough, you know, the real man'll be goingfree--laughing in his sleeve, very like."

  "But--what are we to do?" asked Bent. "What are we to start on?"

  "Find out about Kitely himself!" exclaimed Avice. "Who knows anythingabout him? He may have had enemies--he may have been tracked here. Findout if there was any motive!" She paused and looked half appealingly,half-searchingly at Brereton. "I heard you're a barrister--a cleverone," she went on, hesitating a little. "Can't--can't you suggestanything?"

  "There's something I'll suggest at once," responded Breretonimpulsively. "Whatever else is done, your father's got to be defended.I'll defend him--to the best of my ability--if you'll let me--and at nocost to him."

  "Well spoken, sir!" exclaimed Northrop. "That's the style!"

  "But we must keep to legal etiquette," continued Brereton, smiling atthe little man's enthusiasm. "You must go to a solicitor and tell him toinstruct me--it's a mere form. Mr. Bent will take you to his solicitor,and he'll see me. Then I can appear in due form when they bring yourfather before the magistrates. Look here, Bent," he went on, wishing tostop any expression of gratitude from the girl, "you take MissHarborough to your solicitor--if he isn't up, rouse him out. Tell himwhat I propose to do, and make an appointment with him for me. Now runalong, both of you--I want to speak to this gentleman a minute."

  He took Northrop's arm, turned him in the direction of the Shawl, walkedhim a few paces, and then asked him a direct question.

  "Now, what do you know of this man Harborough?"

  "He's a queer chap--a mystery man, sir," answered Northrop. "A sort ofjack-of-all-trades. He's a better sort--you'd say, to hear him talk,he'd been a gentleman. You can see what his daughter is--he educated herwell. He's means of some sort--apart from what he earns. Yes, there'ssome mystery about that man, sir--but I'll never believe he did thisjob. No, sir!"

  "Then we must act on the daughter's suggestion and find out who did,"observed Brereton. "There is as much mystery about that as aboutHarborough."

  "All mystery, sir!" agreed Northrop. "It's odd--I came through themwoods on the Shawl there about a quarter to ten last night: I'd beenacross to the other side to see a man of mine that's poorly in bed. Now,I never heard aught, never saw aught--but then, it's true I washurrying--I'd made an appointment for a hand at whist with the Mayor atmy house at ten o'clock, and I thought I was late. I never heard asound--not so much as a dead twig snap! But then, it would ha' beenbefore that--at some time."

  "Yes, at some time," agreed Brereton. "Well,--I'll see you in court, nodoubt."

  He turned back, and followed Bent and Avice at a distance, watching themthoughtfully.

  "At some time?" he mused. "Um! Well, I'm now conversant with themovements of two inhabitants of Highmarket at a critical period of lastnight. Mallalieu didn't go to cards with Northrop until ten o'clock, andat ten o'clock Cotherstone returned to his house after being absent--onehour."