The Riddle of the Purple Emperor

  CHAPTER X

  A SHOT IN THE DARK

  The case was one that fascinated Cleek, and as it seemed absolutelycertain that Sir Edgar would not venture back within the precincts ofhome that night, both he and Mr. Narkom prepared to make anotherinvestigation of Cheyne Court. Constable Roberts and Dollops werepatrolling the forked lanes, and thanks to the latter's supply of"tickle tootsies" as he persisted in terming them and which were reallyan ingenious invention of his own consisting of slabs of brown paperwell smothered with molasses, there was no fear of any one being able toapproach without being seen.

  A brisk two minutes' walk brought them to the picturesque house with itsivy-wrapped walls, dark Gothic windows, and quaintly carvedchimney-pots. A medieval appearance was strengthened by a deep moat,long since dried up, but which gave it the air of an old-world castle. Aruined drawbridge completed the resemblance, though the actual date ofits erection was certainly not in the bygone ages.

  Cleek and Mr. Narkom had hardly approached the western side, whereConstable Roberts had been stationed on guard, when that official camerushing toward them, breathing hard with excitement, his eyes nearlystarting from his head.

  "A shot, sir," he gasped. "As true as I'm 'ere, I heard a shot firedfrom somewhere, and a man rushed by me in the lane down there, wavinghis arms wildly, and then 'e vanished."

  "Couldn't you catch a glimpse of him?" rapped out Cleek briskly. "Whatwas he, a labourer, gentleman, or what?"

  "Couldn't say, sir. I had turned my back, and was looking up at theblessed house, when I 'ears the sound of a shot, be'ind me it seemed,and round I spins, and next I knows was my helmet knocked down on my'ead, and a man sprinting down the lane for dear life. By the time I'dgot it lifted, 'e was gone."

  "H'm! Sure it was a man?" asked Cleek, as the three men came out oncemore into the lane.

  "Well!" said the police-constable, startled by this new hypothesis. "Nowyou speak, sir--the footsteps was light enough and there was a preciousfine scent."

  Before he could volunteer any further ideas, he caught sight ofsomething which apparently drove them all from his head.

  In his excitement he gripped the arm of Mr. Narkom, oblivious for thetime being of their relative positions. "Look, sir," he said, "blest ifthere ain't somebody got into the 'ouse now, though 'ow they've bin anddone it, beats me!"

  Only a minute before the house had loomed up dark and cheerless, withouta single sign of habitation. Now in the lower room known both by Cleekand the superintendent to be the dining room, someone was obviouslywalking about with a light held in one hand. For a moment all threestood stock-still gaping at one another in blank amazement, then Cleekspoke.

  "Come on," said he, through clenched teeth, "not a sound if you can helpit, and look if there are any strange footprints."

  "The place is alive with footprints!" ejaculated Constable Roberts, ashe turned the light of his bull's-eye downward and it revealedunmistakable traces on the soft, yielding earth. They led right up tothe edge of the marble terrace. "Look, sir, this is the way he come downthe lane, up this path and straight ahead. Come on!"

  Straight down the narrow path they went without break or interruption,shielded by the overshadowing trees, their eyes bent on the countlessfootprints which followed each other down the centre in one longunbroken line leading right to the house.

  Suddenly at the front steps they stopped short, and Cleek and Narkomstopped also, for from the steps they took another direction altogether,wheeling about sharply and leading toward the terrace where they seemedto terminate.

  But Constable Roberts was keenly on the look-out, being a dutifulpoliceman if a trifle slow.

  "Here they are again, sir," he whispered, pointing to the left along theterrace where, since the previous night's rain, the thick dust hadevidently been laid. "See, 'ere's where 'e went, right over this blessedwall. Ten chances to one but what 'e's cut 'isself with all that brokenglass at the top. Fancy finding broken glass on a marble bannister!" Hesnorted under his breath as he lifted himself over the low balustradeafter pushing the glass aside. "Mind 'ow you come, gents. Fair coppedhim out, as sure as guns is guns. Better let me go first, 'e's in thereright enough. You can see the light moving about."

  A single look was enough to convince Cleek and Mr. Narkom of the truthof the constable's words, and in an instant they had sprung up, grippedthe edge of the wall, scrambled over it and dropped down on the marbleterrace beneath. In the room, of which Sir Edgar had acknowledgedbreaking the glass of the window, thin, wavering lines of constantlyshifting light could be seen through the chinks of the wooden shutters.But so well had the wooden barriers been nailed up, that it wasimpossible to see anything more than this shifting streak of light, andCleek, abandoning the attempt, led a swift flight round to the back ofthe building. To the intense astonishment of them all they found a smallside door, not only unlocked, but ajar. Through this they made their waydown a passage and up into the hall to the dining room. The thin streakof light beneath the door told them that their quarry was still there,run to earth at last. They stopped for a moment, their nerves strung tobreaking point, their hearts beating wildly as they thought of what laybefore them.

  Only for a brief second they paused, then Cleek's head went up.

  "Now," he whispered, and in they went, with a rush that sent the oldpanelled door crashing back on its hinges with a queer sort of groan.

  But again, as on the previous day, no figure at bay rose to fight them.Once more only the squeal and rustle of countless mice behind theoak-panelled walls came to their listening ears.

  To all appearances the dining room was exactly in the same condition aswhen Cleek had first entered it with the girl they now were seeking sostrenuously. The room was empty. A guttering candle contrasted strangelywith the rich polished mahogany of the table on which it had beenplaced, but its faint light revealed no living thing.

  They stared at one another in mute astonishment, then Cleek switched onhis electric torch and swept it from ceiling to floor.

  It swung around like a miniature searchlight, then stopped abruptly, andejaculations of horror fell from the lips of the watching men.

  On the hearth-rug on the opposite side of the room from where theystood, half hidden by the great divan chair, lay the figure of a woman.The life-blood was oozing from a gun-wound above the breast and itneeded only one brief glance to tell them that she was already pasttheir aid! Blankly they stared into each other's faces as recognitioncame.

  "Miss Cheyne!"

  Hideous fact though it was, there could be no doubt as to her identity.The golden, curled hair, the beringed hands were identically the same asCleek had seen, and it seemed to his almost dazed senses, seen in thesame position--just a month ago in the ballroom! It was the same womanwho had driven the constable and himself away, barely an hour afterthat dreadful discovery and certainly the same who had glared at them sothreateningly on the previous day!

  Yet here she was in an apparently empty house.

  For a moment all three men stood staring in appalled silence.

  Then Constable Roberts backed shudderingly away.

  "The Lord deliver us," he said in a quaking whisper. "It's Miss Cheyneherself, sir, and dead just as the young officer said a month ago."

  At any other time Cleek would have noted this compliment paid to hisdisguise, but now he stood staring down at the grimly grotesque figure,all the colour drained from his lips and cheeks.

  "How and when did she come back? Where did she hide herself yesterday?"said Constable Roberts, in hushed, awed tones. Nobody answered him.Nobody seemed to have heard. For Cleek and Mr. Narkom the discoverythreatened to possess an even more tragic importance. In the finding ofthis woman shot to the heart they recognized that the deed threatened bySir Edgar Brenton but a few short hours ago had now indeed beencommitted.

  "Good Heavens!" gasped out Mr. Narkom at last, his lips dry, his voicetense and strained, "and so we came too late. No wonder we waited invain. Poor boy, poor boy, the mys
tery is at an end."

  "On the contrary, my friend," flung back Cleek sharply, a bright spot ofcolour showing in each cheek, "I venture to think it has only justbegun. Constable Roberts, search this house first, then mount guard.Don't let any one enter or leave it. If any living man or woman comesnear, arrest them, no matter who they are. But don't leave the placeunguarded for a single instant. A doctor must be fetched and Dollopsmust find him.

  "Thank goodness Sir Edgar is in London and can supply an alibi," headded, almost under his breath.

  But Constable Roberts turned on his heel as he caught the words, theruddy colour deserting his face, leaving it white and strained.

  "Beggin' your pardon, sir, but that's just what 'e ain't. I passed thestation on my way here, and there was Sir Edgar 'imself on top of thesteps. 'E must 'ave come in by the 9:10 train and 'e didn't see me, butI see 'im as plain as life. Lord pray someone else saw 'im, too!"

  Speaking, he turned and left the room, and as Mr. Narkom gazed at Cleek,their mutual feeling showed only too visibly on their white, tensefaces.

  So the unhappy boy had taken matters into his own hands after all. Thatmatter was only too clear. He might have gone to town, true enough, butonly waited there long enough for it to get dark, that he might be freeand undisturbed in his task of revenge.

  "There's no help for it, Cleek," said the Superintendent with a littleshrug of despair. "I would have given one hundred pounds to haveprevented it, but----"

  His voice trailed off and he let the rest of the sentence go by default.Without further comment he turned and hurried out of the room. Alreadyhe could hear Constable Roberts tramping from floor to floor in a vainsearch for something in the nature of a murderer, and could not helpthinking once more as he went out into the blackness of the night of thetragedy that this hot-headed boy had brought upon his house.

  Cleek followed slowly. It took him but a second to get back into thelane, but there was no sign of Dollops, nor did the familiar hoot of anight-owl, Cleek's favourite signal, bring forth any reply. Dollopsindeed had vanished as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up.