Part 12 (1/2)
”I am surprised,” I echoed, ”and I intend to explain why presently.
Meanwhile, I suppose you are trying to get on the track of the second man who lived in that tent?”
”That's what we are doing, sir--hard at it.”
”You will never find him,” I said.
”No, sir? May I ask what makes you so sure of that?”
”Simply because my opinion is that he does not exist--never did exist.”
The inspector's jaw dropped. ”But--but Mr. Carson Wildred----” he began, when I turned on him and cut him short.
”Did your experience never show you a case where a man, himself a criminal, invented proofs and clues for the purpose of putting the police upon the wrong track?”
He too started from his chair, forgetting to set down his gla.s.s of whisky. ”Good heavens, sir, you don't mean to accuse----”
”I don't accuse. I am not yet in a position to do that. I only suggest, and should be myself a criminal if I did not try to throw such light upon the matter as I can. Sit down again, inspector, and let me tell you what I know, and what I suspect.”
He sat, or rather dropped into his lately-deserted chair, and his horrified expression, his drooping att.i.tude, went far towards showing me what an exalted position Carson Wildred occupied in the esteem of the neighbourhood.
”I can't seem to realise it, Mr. Stanton,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the inspector.
”Such a man as Mr. Wildred! So respected, so charitable, has given so much to the church! Why, you must be making a mistake.”
”You shall judge for yourself whether I have any evidence to offer worth building upon,” I returned. And then I told him everything, beginning with my chance meeting with Harvey Farnham at the theatre on Christmas Eve. His face grew graver and graver as I went on, and when at last (having dwelt with due insistence upon the mysterious proceedings attending my call at the House by the Lock) I mentioned the reappearance of the ring on ”a young lady's finger,” he shook his head regretfully.
”You've made out a fairly good case against Mr. Wildred, sir,” he observed. ”Would it be indiscreet to ask whether you've any _personal_ enmity against the gentleman?”
”I don't like him,” I admitted. And then I went on to describe in a few words my haunting impression of having been disagreeably a.s.sociated with him in the past.
”I would wish,” I added hurriedly, ”to keep the name of the lady now in possession of the ring entirely out of the question if possible. It must only be brought in, inspector, at the last extremity should no other means remain of detecting a murderer. As for the ring itself, to save trouble in that direction, I think I could if necessary engage to get hold of it, and I am quite ready at any time to swear to its ident.i.ty with the one worn by my old friend Farnham.”
The inspector thoughtfully scratched his head. ”It'll be a nasty business to examine Mr. Wildred's house, in case your friend Mr. Farnham should prove to be all right over in the States. But we can't lose any time. What you've told me to-day is very serious, sir, and must be attended to at once. A couple of detectives will call at the House by the Lock with a search-warrant before nightfall. I can a.s.sure you of that. Until some definite conclusion is arrived at, Mr. Stanton, I suppose you would prefer that your name didn't appear in the matter?”
”I don't care a hang whether it appears or not,” I retorted recklessly.
Perhaps if I had been a little less reckless--but it is never profitable to dwell on and brood over the mistakes of one's past.
The inspector a.s.sured me that a detective should call that night at the hotel in Great Marlow where I had volunteered to remain, and give me all particulars concerning the examination of the House by the Lock. The appointment made was for eight o'clock, by which time, allowing for obstacles and unforeseen delays, all was sure to be well over.
Though the inspector had promised that the New York police should be communicated with, a great restlessness was upon me, and I resolved myself to cable to America.
It was possible that the _St. Paul_, the s.h.i.+p in which Farnham had been supposed to sail, was arriving at New York that day, though the chances were, as the weather had been rough, that she would not have made one of her record trips. However, there could be no harm in wiring, and if the s.h.i.+p had got in all waste of time would be avoided.
I wrote out a despatch to the office of the American line in New York, to be answered (reply prepaid) the moment the _St. Paul_ got in. In this I enquired whether Mr. Harvey Farnham, of Denver, Colorado, had been among the pa.s.sengers. And not contenting myself with this I cabled Farnham, both to Denver and New York, and to the manager of the Fifth Avenue Hotel in the latter place, where I had been told that he usually put up.
The answers to these messages I requested to have sent me at the hotel I had chosen for my headquarters in Great Marlow.
The hours which must intervene before I could possibly hope for a return I spent at the Wayfarers', and there I heard of Wildred, who had lunched at the club with his friend Wigram, and later had been interrupted during a game of billiards by a telegram. He had used some strong language, and hurriedly excusing himself, had left in the midst of the game.
Things had evidently been put into train early, I told myself with satisfaction, and I concluded that the despatch had either gone out from police headquarters or been sent by that stealthy-faced, invaluable major-domo of Wildred's.