CHAPTER XII
As Caldew returned to the house for his interview with Merrington, theone clear impression on his mind was that the discovery of the owner ofthe missing brooch was the starting point in the elucidation of themurder.
In the library he found Superintendent Merrington, Captain Stanhill,Inspector Weyling, and Sergeant Lumbe. The sergeant, who looked tiredand dirty, was apologetically explaining that his visit to Tibblestonehad been fruitless.
"I had my journey for nothing," he was saying in his thick countryvoice, as Caldew entered. "I had a wild goose chase all over the place,and then it turned out that this chap Mr. Hawkins telephoned about wasonly a canvasser for In Memoriam cards for fallen soldiers. I comeacross him at last sitting by the roadside eating his dinner and readinga London picture paper. He looked a doubtful sort of a customer, sureenough, but he was able to prove that he was playing bagatelle in theinn last night at the time the murder was committed."
Superintendent Merrington dismissed this information with a nod, andturned to Caldew.
"Did you interview Mrs. Weyne?" he asked.
"They were not in," was the reply. "I was told they had motored to themoat-house. Did you see them?"
Superintendent Merrington frowned. He had not seen the Weynes, and hehad not been informed of their visit. It was another addition to the sumof untoward incidents which had happened to him since his arrival at themoat-house, and he felt very dissatisfied and wrathful.
"I am returning to London by the next train, Caldew," he said, in hisauthoritative voice. "Official business of importance demands myimmediate presence. I will have some inquiries made at Scotland Yardabout the people who have been staying here. In the meantime, you hadbetter remain on the spot and continue your inquiries under the ChiefConstable."
"I shall be very glad of Detective Caldew's help in unravelling thisterrible mystery," Captain Stanhill remarked courteously.
Caldew drew several conclusions from his chief's speech. Merrington waspuzzled about the case, but had no intention of taking him into hiscounsel. Merrington believed that the murderer had got clear away, and,therefore, further local investigation was useless, but he deemed itadvisable to keep a Scotland Yard man on the scene to watch for possibledevelopments, because he placed no reliance on the county police. It wasapparent that Merrington thought the murderer had come from a distance,and he was going to seek him in London. But he was leaving nothing tochance. He was retaining control of the investigations at both ends inorder to monopolize the glory of the capture. If the murderer escaped,Caldew and the county police could be made the scapegoats for publicindignation.
But while paying the involuntary tribute of swift anger towards theseastute tactics of his departmental chief, Caldew realized withsatisfaction that he was in the possession of a piece of valuableinformation which might upset his calculations.
"There are several people in the district whom it will be advisable tointerview," continued Merrington, hastily consulting his notes. "In thefirst place, you must make another effort to see the Weynes. Mrs. Weynemay be able to give us some valuable information about Mrs. Heredith'searlier life. And I think you should see the station-master of WeydeneJunction. The murderer may have walked across country to the junctionrather than face the greater risk of subsequent identification by takingthe train at one of the village stations on this side of it. And you hadbetter see the housekeeper's daughter and get a statement from her. I donot suppose she knows anything about the crime, but she was here lastnight, and she had better be seen. She is employed as a milliner at themarket town of Stading."
"Do you mean Hazel Rath?" inquired Caldew, in some surprise.
"Yes. She is the daughter of the housekeeper. She stayed here last nightwith her mother, but left to go back to her employment by the firsttrain this morning."
"There must be some mistake about that. I understand she is still in thehouse."
"Who told you so?"
"One of the maidservants."
"We had better have the maid in and question her. What is her name?"
"Milly--Milly Saker."
Merrington touched the bell, and told the maidservant who answered it tosend in Milly Saker.
The girl came in almost immediately, looking half defiant and halfafraid. Merrington glanced at her keenly.
"You're the girl I saw dusting the hall this morning," he said. "Why didyou not come in with the other servants to be examined?"
"Because I wasn't here," answered the girl pertly.
"Where were you?"
"Down in the village, at my mother's place."
"Who gave you permission to go?"
"Mrs. Rath, the housekeeper."
"Did you ask her for leave of absence?"
"No. She knew my mother was ill, and she said to me after breakfast,'Milly, would you like to go and see your mother this morning?' I said,yes, I should, if she could spare me. She told me she could, so Ithanked her and went."
Superintendent Merrington and Captain Stanhill exchanged glances. Thesame thought occurred to both of them. Mrs. Rath, the housekeeper, hadassured them that she had sent all the servants to the library to beexamined. Merrington turned to the girl again.
"Mrs. Rath's daughter was staying with her last night, wasn't she?"
"Yes."
"Is she still here?"
"Yes."
"Are you quite sure of that?"
"Yes, when I was outside about half an hour ago, I saw her through thewindow, sitting in her mother's room."
This piece of information conveyed some significance to Merrington'smind which was not apparent to Caldew. He paused for a moment, and thencontinued abruptly:
"Where were you last night at the time of the murder?"
"Please, sir, I don't know nothing about it," responded the girl with awhimper.
"Control yourself, my good girl," said Captain Stanhill soothingly."Nobody suggests you had anything to do with it."
For reply, the girl only sobbed loudly. Superintendent Merrington, whohad his own methods of soothing frightened females, shook her roughly bythe arm.
"Listen to me," he sternly commanded. "Do you want to go to prison?"
"N--o, sir," responded Milly, between a fresh burst of sobs.
"Then you'd better stop that noise and answer my questions, or I'll putyou under lock and key till you do. Where were you last night when themurder was committed?"
"I was waiting at table till dessert was served," replied the girl,thoroughly subdued by the overbearing manner of the big man confrontingher.
"What did you do when you left the dining-room?"
"I went to the kitchen and was talking to cook for a while."
"And what did you do then?"
"I went up the passage and into the hall to see if dinner was finished.I knew Miss Heredith was anxious to have dinner over early as they wereall going out, and I wanted to get dinner cleared away as quickly as Icould, because I wanted to go out myself. I saw her leave the room andgo towards the front door, but nobody else came out of the dining-room,and I could hear somebody talking. So after waiting a little while, andseeing nobody else come out, I went back towards the kitchen."
"Where were you standing while you were waiting?"
"Just at the corner of the passage leading up from the kitchen."
"You didn't go up stairs at all?"
"No, of course I didn't. 'Tisn't my place to go upstairs."
"Don't be saucy, but answer my questions. Did you hear the scream andthe shot?"
"No, I didn't. I was back in the kitchen before then, and the kitchen isright at the back of the house. Cook and me didn't know anything aboutit till one of the girls came running down and told us about what hadhappened."
"Did you see anybody except Miss Heredith in the hall or on thestaircase of the left wing while you were standing at the end of thepassage?"
"Nobody except Miss Rath."
"Do you mean the housekeeper's daughter?"
"Yes."
"When did you see her?"
"As I was standing there waiting for a chance to clear away the dinnerthings, she come up from the centre passage leading from thehousekeeper's rooms, and turned into the hall."
"Where was she going?"
"I don't know. I didn't ask her," replied the girl, who had regainedsomething of her pert assurance.
"Did she see you?"
"No. I was standing at the end of the kitchen passage, which is close tothe right wing. The passage she come out of was quite a long way fromwhere I was standing, almost in the centre of the house. She turned theother way."
"She turned to the right, then, as she emerged from the passage, andwalked in the direction of the left wing?"
"I don't know where she was going to. All I know is that I saw her turnout of the passage, and walk, as if might be, up the hall in thatdirection."
"Did you notice her actions?"
"I can't say as I did particular, except that she was walking in theshadow, on the side nearest to the passage she come out of, and seemedto be looking at the dining-room door."
"You are sure it was Hazel Rath?"
"Oh, it was her all right," replied Milly confidently. "I recognizedher, as well as the dress she was wearing."
"Was this before or after you saw Miss Heredith leave the dining-room?"
"About ten minutes afterwards."
"Did you mention to anybody that you saw her?"
"I did not," replied the girl, as if the matter were one of supremeindifference to her.
"Why not?"
"I suppose Miss Rath is free to go where she pleases," said the girlairily. "She's privileged. When she used to live here she had the run ofthe house, just like one of the family. Tain't my business to questionher comings and goings."
"Oh, Miss Rath used to live here, did she? How long ago?"
"Till about two years ago, before she went to business."
"And how long did she live here?"
"It must have been a good seven years or more," said Milly, considering."She come here as a little girl when her mother come as housekeeper.Miss Heredith took a great fancy to her, and she was made quite a pet ofthe house, and did just what she liked. When she grew up she used tohelp her mother, and do little things about the house. But she nevergave herself airs--I will say that."
"Very well. You may go now."
"Caldew," said Merrington quickly as the door closed behind the girl,"go and find the housekeeper and send her in here. And then keep an eyeon her daughter, and do not let her out of your sight, until I send foryou. Then bring her in."
When Caldew left the room on his errand, Captain Stanhill turned toSuperintendent Merrington with a pained expression on his face.
"Do you suspect--" he commenced.
"I suspect nobody--and everybody," was the prompt reply. "My duty is tofind out the facts, and my business is now to ascertain why thehousekeeper lied to me about her daughter this morning. She was a foolto try and trick me. There's something underneath all this which I'llsift to the bottom before I leave."
There was a timid tap, and the door opened slowly, revealing the frailblack figure of the housekeeper standing hesitatingly on the threshold.Her frightened eyes were directed to Merrington's truculent ones asthough impelled by a magnet.
"You--you wished to see me?" she stammered.
"Yes. Come in." Merrington curtly commanded. "Close that door, Lumbe.Sit down, Mrs. Rath, I have a few questions to ask you."
The housekeeper took a seat, with her eyes still fixed on Merrington'sface. She looked ill and haggard, but the contour of her worn face, andthe outline of her slender figure suggested that she had once possessedbeauty and attraction. Merrington, staring at her hard, again had theidea that he had seen her long ago in different conditions andcircumstances, but he could not recall where.
"Look here, Mrs. Rath," he commenced abruptly. "I want to know why youlied to me this morning."
"I--I don't know what you mean. I didn't come here to be insulted." Thehousekeeper uttered these words with a weak attempt at dignity, but herlips went suddenly white.
"Don't put on any fine-lady airs with me, for they won't go down," saidMerrington, in a fierce, bullying tone. "You know what I mean very well.You told me this morning, when I asked you, that you had sent in all theservants to be examined. I have just discovered that you did not. Therewas a girl, Milly Saker, whom I did not see. Why was that?"
It seemed to Captain Stanhill that the tension of the housekeeper's facerelaxed, and that a look of relief came into her eyes, as though thequestion were different from the one she had expected.
"I did not tell you a lie," she replied, in a firmer tone. "I sent inall the servants who were in the house at the time. Milly was not athome."
"Where was she?"
"She went across to the village to see her mother, who is ill."
"With your permission, I presume?"
"Yes."
"Why did you permit her to go?"
"The girl's mother was very ill, and needed her daughter."
"You let her go, although I had told you I wanted to question all theservants?"
"No, it was before you told me that I gave Milly permission to have themorning off," responded Mrs. Rath quietly.
"Is that the true explanation?"
"Yes."
"Is it as true as your other statement?"
"What other statement?"
"The statement you made to me this morning when you assured me yourdaughter had left this house to return to her employment at Stading?"said Merrington, with a cruel smile. "That wasn't true, you know. How doyou describe that untruth? As a temporary aberration of memory, orwhat?"
The housekeeper looked up with swift, startled eyes, and her thin handinvoluntarily clutched the edge of the table in front of her, but shedid not speak.
"You lied about that, you know," continued Merrington. "I've found outyour daughter has been in the house all day. Why did you tell me a lie?Come, out with it!"
"You are too abrupt, Merrington," said Captain Stanhill, interposingwith unexpected firmness. "You have frightened her. Come, Mrs. Rath," hesaid gently, "can you not give us some explanation as to why you misledus this morning?"
"Because I didn't want my daughter to be drawn into this dreadfulthing," she exclaimed wildly. "I suppose it was very foolish of me," sheadded, in a more composed voice, as though reassured by the kindly lookin Captain Stanhill's eyes, "but I really didn't think it mattered. Mydaughter knew nothing about the murder and as she is highly strung I didnot want her to be upset."
"Where was your daughter last night when the murder was committed?"asked Merrington.
"In my room."
"Did either of you hear the scream or the shot?"
"No, my rooms are a long way from the left wing, and we were sittingwith the door shut."
"Then when did you learn about the murder?"
"Very soon after it happened. One of the maidservants came and told me."
"And you say that your daughter was with you at the time, and had beenwith you a considerable time before?"
"Yes."
"I think that will do, Mrs. Rath, I have given you every opportunity,but you still persist in telling falsehoods. Your daughter was seenwalking up the hall last night in the direction of the left wing shortlybefore the murder was committed. The person who saw her was the maidMilly Saker. Was that the real reason why you gave Milly leave ofabsence to visit her mother this morning--so that she should not tell uswhat she knew?"
"It is not true," gasped the housekeeper. "My daughter was not out of myrooms last night, I assure you that is the truth."
"I wouldn't believe you on your oath," retorted Merrington. "Lumbe, goand tell Caldew to bring in the girl."