The Old Man in the Corner

  CHAPTER XXV

  THE PRISONER

  "I really don't know," continued the man in the corner blandly, "what itwas that interested me in the case from the very first. Certainly it hadnothing very out of the way or mysterious about it, but I journeyed downto Brighton nevertheless, as I felt that something deeper and moresubtle lay behind that extraordinary assault, following a robbery, nodoubt.

  "I must tell you that the police had allowed it to be freely circulatedabroad that they held a clue. It had been easy enough to ascertain whothe lodger was who had rented the furnished room in Russell House. Hisname was supposed to be Edward Skinner, and he had taken the room abouta fortnight ago, but had gone away ostensibly for two or three days onthe very day of Mr. Morton's mysterious disappearance. It was on the20th that Mr. Morton was found, and thirty-six hours later the publicwere gratified to hear that Mr. Edward Skinner had been traced to Londonand arrested on the charge of assault upon the person of Mr. FrancisMorton and of robbing him of the sum of L10,000.

  "Then a further sensation was added to the already bewildering case bythe startling announcement that Mr. Francis Morton refused to prosecute.

  "Of course, the Treasury took up the case and subpoenaed Mr. Morton as awitness, so that gentleman--if he wished to hush the matter up, or hadbeen in any way terrorised into a promise of doing so--gained nothing byhis refusal, except an additional amount of curiosity in the public mindand further sensation around the mysterious case.

  "It was all this, you see, which had interested me and brought me downto Brighton on March 23rd to see the prisoner Edward Skinner arraignedbefore the beak. I must say that he was a very ordinary-lookingindividual. Fair, of ruddy complexion, with snub nose and the beginningof a bald place on the top of his head, he, too, looked the embodimentof a prosperous, stodgy 'City gent.'

  "I took a quick survey of the witnesses present, and guessed that thehandsome, stylish woman sitting next to Mr. Reginald Pepys, the notedlawyer for the Crown, was Mrs. Morton.

  "There was a large crowd in court, and I heard whispered comments amongthe feminine portion thereof as to the beauty of Mrs. Morton's gown,the value of her large picture hat, and the magnificence of her diamondrings.

  "The police gave all the evidence required with regard to the finding ofMr. Morton in the room at Russell House and also to the arrest ofSkinner at the Langham Hotel in London. It appears that the prisonerseemed completely taken aback at the charge preferred against him, anddeclared that though he knew Mr. Francis Morton slightly in business heknew nothing as to his private life.

  "'Prisoner stated,' continued Inspector Buckle, 'that he was not evenaware Mr. Morton lived in Brighton, but I have evidence here, which Iwill place before your Honour, to prove that the prisoner was seen inthe company of Mr. Morton at 9.30 o'clock on the morning of theassault.'

  "Cross-examined by Mr. Matthew Quiller, the detective-inspector admittedthat prisoner merely said that he did not know that Mr. Morton was a_resident_ of Brighton--he never denied having met him there.

  "The witness, or rather witnesses, referred to by the police were twoBrighton tradesmen who knew Mr. Morton by sight and had seen him on themorning of the 17th walking with the accused.

  "In this instance Mr. Quiller had no question to ask of the witnesses,and it was generally understood that the prisoner did not wish tocontradict their statement.

  "Constable Hartrick told the story of the finding of the unfortunateMr. Morton after his four days' incarceration. The constable had beensent round by the chief inspector, after certain information given byMrs. Chapman, the landlady of Russell House. He had found the doorlocked and forced it open. Mr. Morton was in an arm-chair, with severalyards of rope wound loosely round him; he was almost unconscious, andthere was a thick wool shawl tied round his mouth which must havedeadened any cry or groan the poor gentleman might have uttered. But, asa matter of fact, the constable was under the impression that Mr. Mortonhad been either drugged or stunned in some way at first, which had lefthim weak and faint and prevented him from making himself heard orextricating himself from his bonds, which were very clumsily, evidentlyvery hastily, wound round his body.

  "The medical officer who was called in, and also Dr. Mellish whoattended Mr. Morton, both said that he seemed dazed by some stupefyingdrug, and also, of course, terribly weak and faint with the want offood.

  "The first witness of real importance was Mrs. Chapman, the proprietressof Russell House, whose original information to the police led to thediscovery of Mr. Morton. In answer to Mr. Pepys, she said that on March1st the accused called at her house and gave his name as Mr. EdwardSkinner.

  "'He required, he said, a furnished room at a moderate rental for apermanency, with full attendance when he was in, but he added that hewould often be away for two or three days, or even longer, at a time.

  "'He told me that he was a traveller for a tea-house,' continued Mrs.Chapman, 'and I showed him the front room on the third floor, as he didnot want to pay more than twelve shillings a week. I asked him for areference, but he put three sovereigns in my hand, and said with a laughthat he supposed paying for his room a month in advance was sufficientreference; if I didn't like him after that, I could give him a week'snotice to quit.'

  "'You did not think of asking him the name of the firm for which hetravelled?' asked Mr. Pepys.

  "'No, I was quite satisfied as he paid me for the room. The next day hesent in his luggage and took possession of the room. He went out mostmornings on business, but was always in Brighton for Saturday andSunday. On the 16th he told me that he was going to Liverpool for acouple of days; he slept in the house that night, and went off early onthe 17th, taking his portmanteau with him.'

  "'At what time did he leave?' asked Mr. Pepys.

  "'I couldn't say exactly,' replied Mrs. Chapman with some hesitation.'You see this is the off season here. None of my rooms are let, exceptthe one to Mr. Skinner, and I only have one servant. I keep four duringthe summer, autumn, and winter season,' she added with conscious pride,fearing that her former statement might prejudice the reputation ofRussell House. 'I thought I had heard Mr. Skinner go out about nineo'clock, but about an hour later the girl and I were both in thebasement, and we heard the front door open and shut with a bang, andthen a step in the hall.

  "'"That's Mr. Skinner," said Mary. "So it is," I said, "why, I thoughthe had gone an hour ago." "He did go out then," said Mary, "for he lefthis bedroom door open and I went in to do his bed and tidy his room.""Just go and see if that's him, Mary," I said, and Mary ran up to thehall and up the stairs, and came back to tell me that that was Mr.Skinner all right enough; he had gone straight up to his room. Marydidn't see him, but he had another gentleman with him, as she could hearthem talking in Mr. Skinner's room.'

  "'Then you can't tell us at what time the prisoner left the housefinally?'

  "'No, that I can't. I went out shopping soon after that. When I came init was twelve o'clock. I went up to the third floor and found that Mr.Skinner had locked his door and taken the key with him. As I knew Maryhad already done, the room I did not trouble more about it, though I didthink it strange for a gentleman to look up his room and not leave thekey with me.'

  "'And, of course, you heard no noise of any kind in the room then?'

  "'No. Not that day or the next, but on the third day Mary and I boththought we heard a funny sound. I said that Mr. Skinner had left hiswindow open, and it was the blind flapping against the window-pane; butwhen we heard that funny noise again I put my ear to the keyhole and Ithought I could hear a groan. I was very frightened, and sent Mary forthe police.'

  "Mrs. Chapman had nothing more of interest to say. The prisonercertainly was her lodger. She had last seen him on the evening of the16th going up to his room with his candle. Mary the servant had much thesame story to relate as her mistress.

  "'I think it was 'im, right enough,' said Mary guardedly. 'I didn't see'im, but I went up to 'is landing and stopped a moment outside 'is door.I could 'ear loud voi
ces in the room--gentlemen talking.'

  "'I suppose you would not do such a thing as to listen, Mary?' queriedMr. Pepys with a smile.

  "'No, sir,' said Mary with a bland smile, 'I didn't catch what thegentlemen said, but one of them spoke so loud I thought they must bequarrelling.'

  "'Mr. Skinner was the only person in possession of a latch-key, Ipresume. No one else could have come in without ringing at the door?'

  "'Oh no, sir.'

  "That was all. So far, you see, the case was progressing splendidly forthe Crown against the prisoner. The contention, of course, was thatSkinner had met Mr. Morton, brought him home with him, assaulted,drugged, then gagged and bound him, and finally robbed him of whatevermoney he had in his possession, which, according to certain affidavitswhich presently would be placed before the magistrate, amounted toL10,000 in notes.

  "But in all this there still remained the great element of mystery forwhich the public and the magistrate would demand an explanation: namely,what were the relationships between Mr. Morton and Skinner, which hadinduced the former to refuse the prosecution of the man who had not onlyrobbed him, but had so nearly succeeded in leaving him to die a terribleand lingering death?

  "Mr. Morton was too ill as yet to appear in person. Dr. Mellish hadabsolutely forbidden his patient to undergo the fatigue and excitementof giving evidence himself in court that day. But his depositions hadbeen taken at his bedside, were sworn to by him, and were now placedbefore the magistrate by the prosecuting counsel, and the facts theyrevealed were certainly as remarkable as they were brief andenigmatical.

  "As they were read by Mr. Pepys, an awed and expectant hush seemed todescend over the large crowd gathered there, and all necks were strainedeagerly forward to catch a glimpse of a tall, elegant woman, faultlesslydressed and wearing exquisite jewellery, but whose handsome face wore,as the prosecuting counsel read her husband's deposition, a more andmore ashen hue.

  "'This, your Honour, is the statement made upon oath by Mr. FrancisMorton,' commenced Mr. Pepys in that loud, sonorous voice of his whichsounds so impressive in a crowded and hushed court. '"I was obliged, forcertain reasons which I refuse to disclose, to make a payment of a largesum of money to a man whom I did not know and have never seen. It was ina matter of which my wife was cognisant and which had entirely to dowith her own affairs. I was merely the go-between, as I thought it wasnot fit that she should see to this matter herself. The individual inquestion had made certain demands, of which she kept me in ignorance aslong as she could, not wishing to unnecessarily worry me. At last shedecided to place the whole matter before me, and I agreed with her thatit would be best to satisfy the man's demands.

  "'"I then wrote to that individual whose name I do not wish to disclose,addressing the letter, as my wife directed me to do, to the Brightonpost office, saying that I was ready to pay the L10,000 to him, at anyplace or time and in what manner he might appoint. I received a replywhich bore the Brighton postmark, and which desired me to be outsideFurnival's, the drapers, in West Street, at 9.30 on the morning of March17th, and to bring the money (L10,000) in Bank of England notes.

  "'"On the 16th my wife gave me a cheque for the amount and I cashed itat her bank--Bird's in Fleet Street. At half-past nine the followingmorning I was at the appointed place. An individual wearing a greyovercoat, bowler hat, and red tie accosted me by name and requested meto walk as far as his lodgings in the King's Parade. I followed him.Neither of us spoke. He stopped at a house which bore the name 'RussellHouse,' and which I shall be able to swear to as soon as I am able to goout. He let himself in with a latch-key, and asked me to follow him upto his room on the third floor. I thought I noticed when we were in theroom that he locked the door; however, I had nothing of any value aboutme except the L10,000, which I was ready to give him. We had notexchanged the slightest word.

  "'"I gave him the notes, and he folded them and put them in hispocket-book. Then I turned towards the door, and, without the slightestwarning, I felt myself suddenly gripped by the shoulder, while ahandkerchief was pressed to my nose and mouth. I struggled as best Icould, but the handkerchief was saturated with chloroform, and I soonlost consciousness. I hazily remember the man saying to me in short,jerky sentences, spoken at intervals while I was still weaklystruggling:

  "'"What a fool you must think me, my dear sir! Did you really thinkthat I was going to let you quietly walk out of here, straight to thepolice-station, eh? Such dodges have been done before, I know, when aman's silence has to be bought for money. Find out who he is, see wherehe lives, give him the money, then inform against him. No you don't! notthis time. I am off to the continent with this L10,000, and I can getto Newhaven in time for the midday boat, so you'll have to keep quietuntil I am the other side of the Channel, my friend. You won't be muchinconvenienced; my landlady will hear your groans presently and releaseyou, so you'll be all right. There, now, drink this--that's better.' Heforced something bitter down my throat, then I remember nothing more.

  "'"When I regained consciousness I was sitting in an arm-chair with somerope tied round me and a wool shawl round my mouth. I hadn't thestrength to make the slightest effort to disentangle myself or to uttera scream. I felt terribly sick and faint."'

  "Mr. Reginald Pepys had finished reading, and no one in that crowdedcourt had thought of uttering a sound; the magistrate's eyes were fixedupon the handsome lady in the magnificent gown, who was mopping her eyeswith a dainty lace handkerchief.

  "The extraordinary narrative of the victim of so daring an outrage hadkept every one in suspense; one thing was still expected to make themeasure of sensation as full as it had ever been over any criminal case,and that was Mrs. Morton's evidence. She was called by the prosecutingcounsel, and slowly, gracefully, she entered the witness-box. There wasno doubt that she had felt keenly the tortures which her husband hadundergone, and also the humiliation of seeing her name dragged forciblyinto this ugly, blackmailing scandal.

  "Closely questioned by Mr. Reginald Pepys, she was forced to admit thatthe man who blackmailed her was connected with her early life in a waywhich would have brought terrible disgrace upon her and upon herchildren. The story she told, amidst many tears and sobs, and much useof her beautiful lace handkerchief and beringed hands, was exceedinglypathetic.

  "It appears that when she was barely seventeen she was inveigled into asecret marriage with one of those foreign adventurers who swarm in everycountry, and who styled himself Comte Armand de la Tremouille. He seemsto have been a blackguard of unusually low pattern, for, after he hadextracted from her some L200 of her pin money and a few diamondbrooches, he left her one fine day with a laconic word to say that hewas sailing for Europe by the _Argentina_, and would not be back forsome time. She was in love with the brute, poor young soul, for when, aweek later, she read that the _Argentina_ was wrecked, and presumablyevery soul on board had perished, she wept very many bitter tears overher early widowhood.

  "Fortunately her father, a very wealthy pork-butcher of Chicago, hadknown nothing of his daughter's culpable foolishness. Four years laterhe took her to London, where she met Mr. Francis Morton and married him.She led six or seven years of very happy married life when one day, likea thunderbolt from a clear, blue sky, she received a typewritten letter,signed 'Armand de la Tremouille,' full of protestations of undying love,telling a long and pathetic tale of years of suffering in a foreignland, whither he had drifted after having been rescued almostmiraculously from the wreck of the _Argentina_, and where he never hadbeen able to scrape a sufficient amount of money to pay for his passagehome. At last fate had favoured him. He had, after many vicissitudes,found the whereabouts of his dear wife, and was now ready to forgive allthat was past and take her to his loving arms once again.

  "What followed was the usual course of events when there is a blackguardand a fool of a woman. She was terrorised and did not dare to tell herhusband for some time; she corresponded with the Comte de la Tremouille,begging him for her sake and in memory of the past not to attempt to
seeher. She found him amenable to reason in the shape of several hundredpounds which passed through the Brighton post office into his hands. Atlast one day, by accident, Mr. Morton came across one of the Comte de laTremouille's interesting letters. She confessed everything, throwingherself upon her husband's mercy.

  "Now, Mr. Francis Morton was a business man, who viewed life practicallyand soberly. He liked his wife, who kept him in luxury, and wished tokeep her, whereas the Comte de la Tremouille seemed willing enough togive her up for a consideration. Mrs. Morton, who had the sole andabsolute control of her fortune, on the other hand, was willing enoughto pay the price and hush up the scandal, which she believed--since shewas a bit of a fool--would land her in prison for bigamy. Mr. FrancisMorton wrote to the Comte de la Tremouille that his wife was ready topay him the sum of L10,000 which he demanded in payment for her absoluteliberty and his own complete disappearance out of her life now and forever. The appointment was made, and Mr. Morton left his house at 9 a.m.on March 17th with the L10,000 in his pocket.

  "The public and the magistrate had hung breathless upon her words. Therewas nothing but sympathy felt for this handsome woman, who throughouthad been more sinned against than sinning, and whose gravest fault seemsto have been a total lack of intelligence in dealing with her own life.But I can assure you of one thing, that in no case within myrecollection was there ever such a sensation in a court as when themagistrate, after a few minutes' silence, said gently to Mrs. Morton:

  "'And now, Mrs. Morton, will you kindly look at the prisoner, and tellme if in him you recognize your former husband?'

  "And she, without even turning to look at the accused, said quietly:

  "'Oh no! your Honour! of course that man is _not_ the Comte de laTremouille.'"