'And did any message come?'
'No, sir.'
'No. And I suppose you sleep with your window open, these warm nights?'
'It is never closed at night, sir.'
Trent added a last note; then he looked thoughtfully through those hehad taken. He rose and paced up and down the room for some moments witha downcast eye. At length he paused opposite Martin.
'It all seems perfectly ordinary and simple,' he said. 'I just want toget a few details clear. You went to shut the windows in the librarybefore going to bed. Which windows?'
'The French window, sir. It had been open all day. The windows oppositethe door were seldom opened.'
'And what about the curtains? I am wondering whether any one outside thehouse could have seen into the room.'
'Easily, sir, I should say, if he had got into the grounds on that side.The curtains were never drawn in the hot weather. Mr. Manderson wouldoften sit right in the doorway at nights, smoking and looking out intothe darkness. But nobody could have seen him who had any business to bethere.'
'I see. And now tell me this. Your hearing is very acute, you say, andyou heard Mr. Manderson enter the house when he came in after dinnerfrom the garden. Did you hear him re-enter it after returning from themotor drive?'
Martin paused. 'Now you mention it, sir, I remember that I did not. Hisringing the bell in this room was the first I knew of his being back. Ishould have heard him come in, if he had come in by the front. I shouldhave heard the door go. But he must have come in by the window.' The manreflected for a moment, then added, 'As a general rule, Mr. Mandersonwould come in by the front, hang up his hat and coat in the hall, andpass down the hall into the study. It seems likely to me that he was ina great hurry to use the telephone, and so went straight across the lawnto the window. He was like that, sir, when there was anything importantto be done. He had his hat on, now I remember, and had thrown hisgreatcoat over the end of the table. He gave his order very sharp,too, as he always did when busy. A very precipitate man indeed was Mr.Manderson; a hustler, as they say.'
'Ah! he appeared to be busy. But didn't you say just now that younoticed nothing unusual about him?'
A melancholy smile flitted momentarily over Martin's face. 'Thatobservation shows that you did not know Mr. Manderson, sir, if you willpardon my saying so. His being like that was nothing unusual; quite thecontrary. It took me long enough to get used to it. Either he would besitting quite still and smoking a cigar, thinking or reading, or else hewould be writing, dictating, and sending off wires all at the same time,till it almost made one dizzy to see it, sometimes for an hour or moreat a stretch. As for being in a hurry over a telephone message, I maysay it wasn't in him to be anything else.'
Trent turned to the inspector, who met his eye with a look of answeringintelligence. Not sorry to show his understanding of the line of inquiryopened by Trent, Mr. Murch for the first time put a question.
'Then you left him telephoning by the open window, with the lights on,and the drinks on the table; is that it?' 'That is so, Mr. Murch.' Thedelicacy of the change in Martin's manner when called upon to answer thedetective momentarily distracted Trent's appreciative mind. But the bigman's next question brought it back to the problem at once.
'About those drinks. You say Mr. Manderson often took no whisky beforegoing to bed. Did he have any that night?'
'I could not say. The room was put to rights in the morning by one ofthe maids, and the glass washed, I presume, as usual. I know that thedecanter was nearly full that evening. I had refilled it a few daysbefore, and I glanced at it when I brought the fresh syphon, just out ofhabit, to make sure there was a decent-looking amount.'
The inspector went to the tall corner-cupboard and opened it. He tookout a decanter of cut glass and set it on the table before Martin. 'Wasit fuller than that?' he asked quietly. 'That's how I found it thismorning.' The decanter was more than half empty.
For the first time Martin's self-possession wavered. He took up thedecanter quickly, tilted it before his eyes, and then stared amazedlyat the others. He said slowly: 'There's not much short of half a bottlegone out of this since I last set eyes on it--and that was that Sundaynight.'
'Nobody in the house, I suppose?' suggested Trent discreetly. 'Out ofthe question!' replied Martin briefly; then he added, 'I beg pardon,sir, but this is a most extraordinary thing to me. Such a thingnever happened in all my experience of Mr. Manderson. As for thewomen-servants, they never touch anything, I can answer for it; andas for me, when I want a drink I can help myself without going to thedecanters.' He took up the decanter again and aimlessly renewed hisobservation of the contents, while the inspector eyed him with a look ofserene satisfaction, as a master contemplates his handiwork.
Trent turned to a fresh page of his notebook, and tapped it thoughtfullywith his pencil. Then he looked up and said, 'I suppose Mr. Mandersonhad dressed for dinner that night?'
'Certainly, sir. He had on a suit with a dress-jacket, what he used torefer to as a Tuxedo, which he usually wore when dining at home.'
'And he was dressed like that when you saw him last?'
'All but the jacket, sir. When he spent the evening in the library, asusually happened, he would change it for an old shooting-jacket afterdinner, a light-coloured tweed, a little too loud in pattern for Englishtastes, perhaps. He had it on when I saw him last. It used to hang inthis cupboard here'--Martin opened the door of it as he spoke--'alongwith Mr. Manderson's fishing-rods and such things, so that he could slipit on after dinner without going upstairs.'
'Leaving the dinner-jacket in the cupboard?'
'Yes, sir. The housemaid used to take it upstairs in the morning.'
'In the morning,' Trent repeated slowly. 'And now that we are speakingof the morning, will you tell me exactly what you know about that? Iunderstand that Mr. Manderson was not missed until the body was foundabout ten o'clock.'
'That is so, sir. Mr. Manderson would never be called, or have anythingbrought to him in the morning. He occupied a separate bedroom. Usuallyhe would get up about eight and go round to the bathroom, and he wouldcome down some time before nine. But often he would sleep till nine orten o'clock. Mrs. Manderson was always called at seven. The maid wouldtake in tea to her. Yesterday morning Mrs. Manderson took breakfastabout eight in her sitting-room as usual, and every one supposed thatMr. Manderson was still in bed and asleep, when Evans came rushing up tothe house with the shocking intelligence.'
'I see,' said Trent. 'And now another thing. You say you slipped thelock of the front door before going to bed. Was that all the locking-upyou did?'
'To the front door, sir, yes; I slipped the lock. No more is considerednecessary in these parts. But I had locked both the doors at the back,and seen to the fastenings of all the windows on the ground floor. Inthe morning everything was as I had left it.'
'As you had left it. Now here is another point--the last, I think. Werethe clothes in which the body was found the clothes that Mr. Mandersonwould naturally have worn that day?'
Martin rubbed his chin. 'You remind me how surprised I was when I firstset eyes on the body, sir. At first I couldn't make out what was unusualabout the clothes, and then I saw what it was. The collar was a shape ofcollar Mr. Manderson never wore except with evening dress. Then Ifound that he had put on all the same things that he had worn the nightbefore--large fronted shirt and all--except just the coat and waistcoatand trousers, and the brown shoes, and blue tie. As for the suit, it wasone of half a dozen he might have worn. But for him to have simply puton all the rest just because they were there, instead of getting outthe kind of shirt and things he always wore by day; well, sir, it wasunprecedented. It shows, like some other things, what a hurry he musthave been in when getting up.'
'Of course,' said Trent. 'Well, I think that's all I wanted to know. Youhave put everything with admirable clearness, Martin. If we want to askany more questions later on, I suppose you will be somewhere about.'
'I shall be at your disposal, sir.
' Martin bowed, and went out quietly.
Trent flung himself into the armchair and exhaled a long breath. 'Martinis a great creature,' he said. 'He is far, far better than a play. Thereis none like him, none, nor will be when our summers have deceased.Straight, too; not an atom of harm in dear old Martin. Do you know,Murch, you are wrong in suspecting that man.'
'I never said a word about suspecting him.' The inspector was takenaback. 'You know, Mr. Trent, he would never have told his story likethat if he thought I suspected him.'
'I dare say he doesn't think so. He is a wonderful creature, a greatartist; but, in spite of that, he is not at all a sensitive type. It hasnever occurred to his mind that you, Murch, could suspect him, Martin,the complete, the accomplished. But I know it. You must understand,inspector, that I have made a special study of the psychology ofofficers of the law. It is a grossly neglected branch of knowledge. Theyare far more interesting than criminals, and not nearly so easy. All thetime I was questioning him I saw handcuffs in your eye. Your lips weremutely framing the syllables of those tremendous words: "It is my dutyto tell you that anything you now say will be taken down and used inevidence against you." Your manner would have deceived most men, but itcould not deceive me.'
Mr. Murch laughed heartily. Trent's nonsense never made any sort ofimpression on his mind, but he took it as a mark of esteem, which indeedit was; so it never failed to please him. 'Well, Mr. Trent,' he said,'you're perfectly right. There's no point in denying it, I have got myeye on him. Not that there's anything definite; but you know as well asI do how often servants are mixed up in affairs of this kind, and thisman is such a very quiet customer. You remember the case of Lord WilliamRussell's valet, who went in as usual, in the morning, to draw up theblinds in his master's bedroom, as quiet and starchy as you please, afew hours after he had murdered him in his bed. I've talked to all thewomen of the house, and I don't believe there's a morsel of harm in oneof them. But Martin's not so easy set aside. I don't like his manner; Ibelieve he's hiding something. If so, I shall find it out.'
'Cease!' said Trent. 'Drain not to its dregs the urn of bitter prophecy.Let us get back to facts. Have you, as a matter of evidence, anything atall to bring against Martin's story as he has told it to us?'
'Nothing whatever at present. As for his suggestion that Manderson camein by way of the window after leaving Marlowe and the car, that's rightenough, I should say. I questioned the servant who swept the room nextmorning, and she tells me there were gravelly marks near the window, onthis plain drugget that goes round the carpet. And there's a footprintin this soft new gravel just outside.' The inspector took a folding rulefrom his pocket and with it pointed out the traces. 'One of the patentshoes Manderson was wearing that night exactly fits that print; you'llfind them,' he added, 'on the top shelf in the bedroom, near the windowend, the only patents in the row. The girl who polished them in themorning picked them out for me.'
Trent bent down and studied the faint marks keenly. 'Good!' he said.'You have covered a lot of ground, Murch, I must say. That was excellentabout the whisky; you made your point finely. I felt inclined to shout"Encore!" It's a thing that I shall have to think over.'
'I thought you might have fitted it in already,' said Mr. Murch. 'Come,Mr. Trent, we're only at the beginning of our enquiries, but what do yousay to this for a preliminary theory? There's a plan of burglary, saya couple of men in it and Martin squared. They know where the plate is,and all about the handy little bits of stuff in the drawing-room andelsewhere. They watch the house; see Manderson off to bed; Martin comesto shut the window, and leaves it ajar, accidentally on purpose. Theywait till Martin goes to bed at twelve-thirty; then they just walk intothe library, and begin to sample the whisky first thing. Now supposeManderson isn't asleep, and suppose they make a noise opening thewindow, or however it might be. He hears it; thinks of burglars; gets upvery quietly to see if anything's wrong; creeps down on them, perhaps,just as they're getting ready for work. They cut and run; he chases themdown to the shed, and collars one; there's a fight; one of them loseshis temper and his head, and makes a swinging job of it. Now, Mr. Trent,pick that to pieces.'
'Very well,' said Trent; 'just to oblige you, Murch, especially as Iknow you don't believe a word of it. First: no traces of any kindleft by your burglar or burglars, and the window found fastened in themorning, according to Martin. Not much force in that, I allow. Next:nobody in the house hears anything of this stampede through the library,nor hears any shout from Manderson either inside the house or outside.Next: Manderson goes down without a word to anybody, though Bunnerand Martin are both at hand. Next: did you ever hear, in your longexperience, of a householder getting up in the night to pounce onburglars, who dressed himself fully, with underclothing, shirt; collarand tie, trousers, waistcoat and coat, socks and hard leather shoes; andwho gave the finishing touches to a somewhat dandified toilet by doinghis hair, and putting on his watch and chain? Personally, I call thatover-dressing the part. The only decorative detail he seems to haveforgotten is his teeth.'
The inspector leaned forward thinking, his large hands clasped beforehim. 'No,' he said at last. 'Of course there's no help in that theory.I rather expect we have some way to go before we find out why a man getsup before the servants are awake, dresses himself awry, and is murderedwithin sight of his house early enough to be 'cold and stiff by ten inthe morning.'
Trent shook his head. 'We can't build anything on that lastconsideration. I've gone into the subject with people who know. Ishouldn't wonder,' he added, 'if the traditional notions about loss oftemperature and rigour after death had occasionally brought an innocentman to the gallows, or near it. Dr. Stock has them all, I feel sure;most general practitioners of the older generation have. That Dr. Stockwill make an ass of himself at the inquest, is almost as certain as thattomorrow's sun will rise. I've seen him. He will say the body must havebeen dead about so long, because of the degree of coldness and rigormortis. I can see him nosing it all out in some textbook that was outof date when he was a student. Listen, Murch, and I will tell yousome facts which will be a great hindrance to you in your professionalcareer. There are many things that may hasten or retard the cooling ofthe body. This one was lying in the long dewy grass on the shady side ofthe shed. As for rigidity, if Manderson died in a struggle, orlabouring under sudden emotion, his corpse might stiffen practicallyinstantaneously; there are dozens of cases noted, particularly in casesof injury to the skull, like this one. On the other hand, the stiffeningmight not have begun until eight or ten hours after death. You can'thang anybody on rigor mortis nowadays, inspector, much as you may resentthe limitation. No, what we can say is this. If he had been shot afterthe hour at which the world begins to get up and go about its business,it would have been heard, and very likely seen too. In fact, we mustreason, to begin with, at any rate, on the assumption that he wasn'tshot at a time when people might be awake; it isn't done in these parts.Put that time at 6.30 a.m. Manderson went up to bed at 11 p.m., andMartin sat up till 12.30. Assuming that he went to sleep at once onturning in, that leaves us something like six hours for the crime tobe committed in; and that is a long time. But whenever it took place,I wish you would suggest a reason why Manderson, who was a fairly lateriser, was up and dressed at or before 6.30; and why neither Martin,who sleeps lightly, nor Bunner, nor his wife heard him moving about,or letting himself out of the house. He must have been careful. He musthave crept about like a cat. Do you feel as I do, Murch, about all this;that it is very, very strange and baffling?'
'That's how it looks,' agreed the inspector.
'And now,' said Trent, rising to his feet, 'I'll leave you to yourmeditations, and take a look at the bedrooms. Perhaps the explanation ofall this will suddenly burst upon you while I am poking about up there.But,' concluded Trent in a voice of sudden exasperation, turning roundin the doorway, 'if you can tell me at any time, how under the sun a manwho put on all those clothes could forget to put in his teeth, you maykick me from here to the nearest lunatic asylum
, and hand me over as anincipient dement.'