CHAPTER VII

  THE YORK MYSTERY

  The man in the corner looked quite cheerful that morning; he had had twoglasses of milk and had even gone to the extravagance of an extracheese-cake. Polly knew that he was itching to talk police and murders,for he cast furtive glances at her from time to time, produced a bit ofstring, tied and untied it into scores of complicated knots, andfinally, bringing out his pocket-book, he placed two or threephotographs before her.

  "Do you know who that is?" he asked, pointing to one of these.

  The girl looked at the face on the picture. It was that of a woman, notexactly pretty, but very gentle and childlike, with a strange patheticlook in the large eyes which was wonderfully appealing.

  "That was Lady Arthur Skelmerton," he said, and in a flash there flittedbefore Polly's mind the weird and tragic history which had broken thisloving woman's heart. Lady Arthur Skelmerton! That name recalled one ofthe most bewildering, most mysterious passages in the annals ofundiscovered crimes.

  "Yes. It was sad, wasn't it?" he commented, in answer to Polly'sthoughts. "Another case which but for idiotic blunders on the part ofthe police must have stood clear as daylight before the public andsatisfied general anxiety. Would you object to my recapitulating itspreliminary details?"

  She said nothing, so he continued without waiting further for a reply.

  "It all occurred during the York racing week, a time which brings to thequiet cathedral city its quota of shady characters, who congregatewherever money and wits happen to fly away from their owners. LordArthur Skelmerton, a very well-known figure in London society and inracing circles, had rented one of the fine houses which overlook theracecourse. He had entered Peppercorn, by St. Armand--Notre Dame, forthe Great Ebor Handicap. Peppercorn was the winner of the Newmarket, andhis chances for the Ebor were considered a practical certainty.

  "If you have ever been to York you will have noticed the fine houseswhich have their drive and front entrances in the road called 'TheMount.' and the gardens of which extend as far as the racecourse,commanding a lovely view over the entire track. It was one of thesehouses, called 'The Elms,' which Lord Arthur Skelmerton had rented forthe summer.

  "Lady Arthur came down some little time before the racing week with herservants--she had no children; but she had many relatives and friends inYork, since she was the daughter of old Sir John Etty, the cocoamanufacturer, a rigid Quaker, who, it was generally said, kept thetightest possible hold on his own purse-strings and looked with markeddisfavour upon his aristocratic son-in-law's fondness for gaming tablesand betting books.

  "As a matter of fact, Maud Etty had married the handsome younglieutenant in the Hussars, quite against her father's wishes. But shewas an only child, and after a good deal of demur and grumbling, SirJohn, who idolized his daughter, gave way to her whim, and a reluctantconsent to the marriage was wrung from him.

  "But, as a Yorkshireman, he was far too shrewd a man of the world not toknow that love played but a very small part in persuading a Duke's sonto marry the daughter of a cocoa manufacturer, and as long as he livedhe determined that since his daughter was being wed because of herwealth, that wealth should at least secure her own happiness. He refusedto give Lady Arthur any capital, which, in spite of the most carefullyworded settlements, would inevitably, sooner or later, have found itsway into the pockets of Lord Arthur's racing friends. But he made hisdaughter a very handsome allowance, amounting to over L3000 a year,which enabled her to keep up an establishment befitting her new rank.

  "A great many of these facts, intimate enough as they are, leaked out,you see, during that period of intense excitement which followed themurder of Charles Lavender, and when the public eye was fixedsearchingly upon Lord Arthur Skelmerton, probing all the inner detailsof his idle, useless life.

  "It soon became a matter of common gossip that poor little Lady Arthurcontinued to worship her handsome husband in spite of his obviousneglect, and not having as yet presented him with an heir, she settledherself down into a life of humble apology for her plebeian existence,atoning for it by condoning all his faults and forgiving all his vices,even to the extent of cloaking them before the prying eyes of Sir John,who was persuaded to look upon his son-in-law as a paragon of all thedomestic virtues and a perfect model of a husband.

  "Among Lord Arthur Skelmerton's many expensive tastes there wascertainly that for horseflesh and cards. After some successful bettingat the beginning of his married life, he had started a racing-stablewhich it was generally believed--as he was very lucky--was a regularsource of income to him.

  "Peppercorn, however, after his brilliant performances at Newmarket didnot continue to fulfil his master's expectations. His collapse at Yorkwas attributed to the hardness of the course and to various othercauses, but its immediate effect was to put Lord Arthur Skelmerton inwhat is popularly called a tight place, for he had backed his horse forall he was worth, and must have stood to lose considerably over L5000 onthat one day.

  "The collapse of the favourite and the grand victory of King Cole, arank outsider, on the other hand, had proved a golden harvest for thebookmakers, and all the York hotels were busy with dinners and suppersgiven by the confraternity of the Turf to celebrate the happy occasion.The next day was Friday, one of few important racing events, after whichthe brilliant and the shady throng which had flocked into the venerablecity for the week would fly to more congenial climes, and leave it, withits fine old Minster and its ancient walls, as sleepy, as quiet asbefore.

  "Lord Arthur Skelmerton also intended to leave York on the Saturday, andon the Friday night he gave a farewell bachelor dinner party at 'TheElms,' at which Lady Arthur did not appear. After dinner the gentlemensettled down to bridge, with pretty stiff points, you may be sure. Ithad just struck eleven at the Minster Tower, when constables McNaughtand Murphy, who were patrolling the racecourse, were startled by loudcries of 'murder' and 'police.'

  "Quickly ascertaining whence these cries proceeded, they hurried on at agallop, and came up--quite close to the boundary of Lord ArthurSkelmerton's grounds--upon a group of three men, two of whom seemed tobe wrestling vigorously with one another, whilst the third was lyingface downwards on the ground. As soon as the constables drew near, oneof the wrestlers shouted more vigorously, and with a certain tone ofauthority:

  "'Here, you fellows, hurry up, sharp; the brute is giving me the slip!'

  "But the brute did not seem inclined to do anything of the sort; hecertainly extricated himself with a violent jerk from his assailant'sgrasp, but made no attempt to run away. The constables had quicklydismounted, whilst he who had shouted for help originally added morequietly:

  "'My name is Skelmerton. This is the boundary of my property. I wassmoking a cigar at the pavilion over there with a friend when I heardloud voices, followed by a cry and a groan. I hurried down the steps,and saw this poor fellow lying on the ground, with a knife stickingbetween his shoulder-blades, and his murderer,' he added, pointing tothe man who stood quietly by with Constable McNaught's firm grip uponhis shoulder, 'still stooping over the body of his victim. I was toolate, I fear, to save the latter, but just in time to grapple with theassassin--"

  "'It's a lie!' here interrupted the man hoarsely. 'I didn't do it,constable; I swear I didn't do it. I saw him fall--I was coming along acouple of hundred yards away, and I tried to see if the poor fellow wasdead. I swear I didn't do it.'

  "'You'll have to explain that to the inspector presently, my man,' wasConstable McNaught's quiet comment, and, still vigorously protesting hisinnocence, the accused allowed himself to be led away, and the body wasconveyed to the station, pending fuller identification.

  "The next morning the papers were full of the tragedy; a column and ahalf of the _York Herald_ was devoted to an account of Lord ArthurSkelmerton's plucky capture of the assassin. The latter had continued todeclare his innocence, but had remarked, it appears, with grim humour,that he quite saw he was in a tight place, out of which, however, hewould find it easy to extricate hims
elf. He had stated to the policethat the deceased's name was Charles Lavender, a well-known bookmaker,which fact was soon verified, for many of the murdered man's 'pals'were still in the city.

  "So far the most pushing of newspaper reporters had been unable to gleanfurther information from the police; no one doubted, however, but thatthe man in charge, who gave his name as George Higgins, had killed thebookmaker for purposes of robbery. The inquest had been fixed for theTuesday after the murder.

  "Lord Arthur had been obliged to stay in York a few days, as hisevidence would be needed. That fact gave the case, perhaps, a certainamount of interest as far as York and London 'society' were concerned.Charles Lavender, moreover, was well known on the turf; but no bombshellexploding beneath the walls of the ancient cathedral city could morehave astonished its inhabitants than the news which, at about five inthe afternoon on the day of the inquest, spread like wildfire throughoutthe town. That news was that the inquest had concluded at three o'clockwith a verdict of 'Wilful murder against some person or personsunknown,' and that two hours later the police had arrested Lord ArthurSkelmerton at his private residence, 'The Elms,' and charged him on awarrant with the murder of Charles Lavender, the bookmaker."