Page 18 of The Moon Rock


  CHAPTER XVIII

  The clock in Dr. Ravenshaw's study ticked loudly in the perfect stillnessand then struck ten with a note of metallic derision as though rejoicingin the theft of an hour from a man who prided himself on knowing the valueof time. Startled to find that it was so late, Barrant sprang to his feetand rang the bell. A sleepy Cornish maid appeared in answer, and Barrantinformed her that he could not wait any longer.

  "The doctor may be in at any time now, sir," the girl eagerly assured him,as though she were in league with the clock to steal more of his time.

  "I will call again," said Barrant curtly.

  "Any message, sir? Oh, here's the doctor now. A gentleman to see you,sir."

  Dr. Ravenshaw advanced into the room. He looked tired and weary, as if hehad spent a long vigil by a patient. He dismissed the girl with a nod, andturned inquiringly to his visitor.

  "I am Detective Barrant, doctor; I have waited to see you on my way backfrom Flint House. I am investigating the case."

  "Yes?" said the doctor inquiringly. "Please be seated."

  "It is a strange case, you know," began the detective. "And one of thestrange things about it is that the dead man's relatives differ whether itis murder or suicide. That's what brings me to you. You are a medical man,and you knew Robert Turold intimately. Would you consider him a man ofsuicidal tendencies?"

  "Many men have tendencies towards suicide at odd moments," replied thedoctor, "particularly men of Robert Turold's temperament."

  "Was there anything in Robert Turold's demeanour which suggested to yourecently that he valued his life lightly, or was likely to take it?"

  "I would rather not give a definite opinion on that point. I have to giveevidence at the inquest, you know."

  Barrant nodded. He realized the force of the doctor's objection to theexpression of a view which might be proved erroneous later. So he turnedto another phase of the case.

  "You saw Robert Turold's body soon after you arrived at Flint House?"

  "Within a few minutes."

  "How long had he been dead?"

  "About ten minutes, I should say."

  "What was the cause of death?"

  "He was shot through the main blood vessel of the left lung. It waspossible to arrive at that conclusion from the very severe haemorrhage.The blood was still flowing freely when we broke into the room. That wouldcause death from heart failure, following the haemorrhage, within two orthree minutes, in all probability."

  "He was quite dead when you entered the study?"

  "Quite."

  "How long after was the body carried into the bedroom?"

  "An hour or more. It was some time before Pengowan arrived, and Thalassaand he removed the body a little later."

  Barrant looked disappointed at his reply. "Would it be possible to makemarks on a corpse after that length of time?" he asked.

  "What sort of marks?" asked the doctor.

  "There was a mark of five fingers on the left arm, made by a left hand."

  "Then you have finger-prints to help you?"

  "Unfortunately no. It's a grip--a clutch--which, will not reveal printmarks in the impressions. I thought they might have been caused during theremoval of the body."

  "It is not possible to make such marks on a corpse. Reaction sets in atthe moment of death. Sometimes blue spots appear on a dead body, and suchappearances have been occasionally mistaken for bruises."

  "Did you observe any marks when you examined the body?" asked Barrant ashe rose to his feet.

  "No, but my examination was confined to ascertaining if life was extinct."

  Barrant thanked him and said good night. The doctor rose also, andescorted him to the door.

  Outside, a wild west wind sprang at him. Barrant pulled his hat over hiseyes and hurried away.

  The following morning he sought out Inspector Dawfield at his office inPenzance and disclosed to him his conclusions about the case.

  "I intend to go to London by this morning's train, Dawfield," heannounced. "We must find Robert Turold's daughter."

  "You think she has gone to London?"

  "I feel sure of it, and I do not think it will be difficult to trace her.I shall try first at Paddington. I will get the warrant for her arrestbacked at Bow Street, and put a couple of good men on the search beforereturning here. You had better have the inquest adjourned until I comeback. This is no suicide, Dawfield, but a deep and skilfully plannedmurder."

  "I should think the flight of the girl makes that pretty clear," saidDawfield, as he made a note on his office pad.

  Barrant shook his head. "It's too strange a case for us to have anyfeeling of certainty about it yet," he said. "There is some very deepmystery behind the facts. Every step of my investigation convinces me ofthat. The disappearance of Miss Turold does not explain everything."

  "She was up at Flint House on that night, and now she is not to be found.Surely that is enough?"

  "This is not a straightforward case. It's going to prove a verycomplicated one. But I have come to the conclusion that the quickest wayto get at the truth is to find Sisily Turold. Her flight suggests that sheis implicated in the crime in some way, and it may even mean that she isguilty."

  "Do not the circumstances point to her guilt?"

  "Circumstances can lie with the facility of humanity, at times. Moreover,we do not know all the circumstances yet. But let us examine the facts wehave discovered. We believe that the girl visited her father's house onthe night of his death, and has since disappeared. We must assume that itwas she who was seen listening at the door during the afternoon by Mrs.Pendleton, because that assumption provides strong motive for the murderby giving the key of interpretation to Miss Turold's subsequent actions.We must picture the effect of that overheard conversation on the girl'smind. She had been kept in ignorance about the secret of her birth, andshe suddenly discovers that instead of being a prospective peeress andheiress, she is only an illegitimate daughter, a nameless thing, areproach in a world governed by moral conventions. Her prospects, herfuture, and her life are shattered by her father's act. The effect mightwell be overwhelming. She broods over the wrong done to her, and decidesto go to Flint House that night and see her father, though not, I think,with the premeditated idea of murder. Her idea was to plead andremonstrate with him."

  "Why do you think that?" asked Dawfield.

  "She could not have foreseen that her absence from the hotel would passunnoticed. That was pure luck, due to Mrs. Pendleton's chance visit toFlint House. It was just chance that the girl did not encounter her auntthere. She must have got away from Flint House shortly before Mrs.Pendleton arrived. But the strongest proof that there was no premeditationis to be found in the fact that Miss Turold made the journey openly, in apublic conveyance."

  "And returned the same way," put in Dawfield.

  "I confess that her action in taking that risk after the murder strikes meas remarkable," observed Barrant thoughtfully. "But she would be anxiousto return as speedily as possible, and perhaps she was aware that the lastwagonette from St. Fair to Penzance is generally empty. But we can onlyspeculate about that. She must have reached Flint House not later thanhalf-past eight or perhaps a few minutes earlier, if she walked quicklyacross the moors. I ascertained that by taking the same wagonette lastnight, and walking across the moors from the cross-roads, as she did. Themurder was not committed until half-past nine, according to the stoppedclock, which is another point suggesting lack of premeditation. Let usassume that up to the time she arrived at Flint House she had no intentionof murdering her father. She knocked, and was perhaps admitted byThalassa, and went up to her father's room. What happened during thatinterview? We do not know, but we are told that Robert Turold was a man ofharsh, unyielding disposition, the slave of his single idea, which was theacquisition of a lost title. Such a man was not likely to be moved bypleading or threats. We must imagine a long and angry scene, culminatingin the daughter snatching up her father's revolver and shooting him."

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p; "Thalassa told Pengowan that Robert Turold kept the revolver in the drawerof his writing table," Dawfield remarked.

  "I have read Pengowan's report," returned Barrant impatiently, "and I amassuming that Robert Turold's daughter knew where it was kept. This is apurely constructive theory of her guilt, and we have to assume manythings. We must further assume that when she left the room she locked thedoor behind her and brought away the key in order to suggest suicide. Whenshe got downstairs she told Thalassa the truth, and begged him to shieldher. He promised to do so, and when the door of the study was broken openhe took an opportunity to drop the key on the floor, in order to suggestthe idea that Robert Turold had locked himself in his room before shootinghimself, and that the key was jolted out of the lock when the door wasburst in. It was an infernally clever thing to do. That's the case againstthe girl, Dawfield. What do you think of it?"

  "It sounds convincing enough."

  "It would sound more convincing to me if it was entirely consistent withthe other facts of the case. Have you those sheets of unfinished writingwhich were found in Robert Turold's study?"

  Dawfield produced two sheets of foolscap from his desk. Barrant laid themon the table, and examined them with a magnifying glass.

  "It is certain that Robert Turold did not put down his pen voluntarily,"he said. "He stopped involuntarily, in the midst of a word. That suggestsgreat surprise or sudden shock. The letter 'e' in the word 'clear'terminates in a sprawling dash and a jab from the nib which has almostpierced the paper. Could the unexpected appearance of his daughter havestartled him in that fashion? It rather suggests that somebody sprang onhim unawares, surprising him so much that he almost stuck the pen throughthe paper."

  "Might not that have been his daughter?"

  "Women scratch like cats when they use violence, but they do not springlike tigers. I have been examining those marks on Robert Turold's armagain, and I have come to the conclusion that they were made by somebodyin a violent passion."

  "I have the photographs here," said Dawfield, rummaging in a drawer. "Theydo not help us at all. There are no finger-prints--nothing but blurs."

  Barrant glanced at the photographs and pushed them aside.

  "I have been thinking a lot about those marks," he said. "They strike meas a very important clue. I have been examining them very closely, anddiscovered the faint impression of finger-nails in the marks left by thefirst and second fingers. That suggests that the owner of the hand was ina state of ferocity and tightened nerves."

  "I do not see that."

  "Allow me to experiment on your arm. When I grip you firmly, as I do now,you can feel my fingers pressing their whole length on your flesh, can younot?"

  "I can indeed," said Dawfield, wincing. "You've a pretty powerful grip. Ishall be black and blue."

  "The grip on Robert Turold's arm is quite a different thing," pursuedBarrant earnestly. "Do not be afraid, I am not going to demonstrate again.It was more in the nature of a pounce--a sort of tiger-spring hold, madeby somebody in a state of great mental excitement, with tightened muscleswhich caused a tense clutch with the finger-tips, the nails digging intothe skin, the fingers bent and wide apart. My opinion is that it is aman's grip."

  "Thalassa?"

  "That I cannot say. He's a cunning and wary devil, and I could get nothingout of him last night. He says he was in the coal cellar when his mastermet his death. That's where he showed his cleverness in protecting himselfas well as shielding the girl, because if he was actually down in the coalcellar she might have gained entrance to the house and left it againwithout Thalassa knowing anything about it. He says that he admittednobody, and heard nobody."

  "Perhaps he helped in the murder, and sprang on his master."

  "That is possible. But why should Thalassa spring on his master inmaniacal excitement? To secure the revolver to shoot him? I can see noother reason. What happened afterwards? Robert Turold wasn't shotimmediately. Some seconds, perhaps minutes, elapsed. What took place inthat brief yet vital space of time? Did Thalassa hold his master in a grimclutch while the girl took the revolver out of the drawer and shot him?What took Robert Turold to the clock in his dying moments? These arequestions we cannot answer at present. But it is certain that whoevercommitted the murder left the room immediately after firing the shot, andthe door was locked on the outside and the key removed. If the daughtercommitted the murder it was probably Thalassa who replaced the key in theroom afterwards."

  "Have you any doubt on that point?"

  "The probabilities point to Thalassa, but it was Austin Turold whoactually picked up the key. It is as well not to lose sight of that fact."

  Inspector Dawfield looked up quickly, but his colleague's face revealednothing of his thoughts.

  "Hadn't you some idea that the marks on the arm might have been caused bythe removal of the body into the next room?" he hazarded.

  "Not now," Barrant replied. "That theory was only tenable on thesupposition that life was not completely extinct when the body wasremoved. But I interviewed Dr. Ravenshaw on that point last night, andwhat he told me disposes of that theory."

  "I heard something from one of my men this morning which may have somebearing on the case," remarked Dawfield. "There has been a lot of localgossip about it. Robert Turold was generally regarded as very eccentric.When he crossed the moors from the churchtown to Flint House it was hiscustom to go almost at a run, glancing over his shoulder as he went, as ifafraid."

  "I have heard nothing of this," commented Barrant. "Is the story to bebelieved, do you think?"

  "A fisherman of the churchtown told my man in a graphic sort of way. Hesays that Robert Turold had a dog which he used to take with him on thesewalks, and he says that the master used to cover the ground with suchgreat strides that the dog had to run after him panting, with lollingtongue."

  "That sounds stretched," said Barrant. "Most fishermen exaggerate.However, I'll look up this man when I return, and question him. It neverdoes to throw away a chance." He glanced at his watch and rose to hisfeet. "I'll be off now to catch the train. If anything important occursduring my absence you'd better send me a wire to Scotland Yard."