Part 8 (1/2)
”That's exactly what I wish to do,” answered Lauriston, readily. ”I've already told it, more than once, to the police and Mr. Multenius's relatives--I'll tell it again, as plainly and briefly as I can. I went into one of the compartments just within the side-door of the place. I saw no one, and heard no one. I rapped on the counter--n.o.body came. So I looked round the part.i.tion into the front shop. There was no one there. Then I looked round the other part.i.tion into the back parlour, the door of which was wide open. I at once saw an old man whom I took to be Mr. Multenius. He was lying on the floor--his feet were towards the open door, and his head on the hearth-rug, near the fender. I immediately jumped over the counter, and went into the parlour. I saw at once that he was dead--and almost immediately I hurried to the front door, to summon a.s.sistance. At the door I ran into Mr. Ayscough, who was entering as I opened the door. I at once told him of what I had found. That is the plain truth as to all I know of the matter.”
”You heard nothing of any person in or about the shop when you entered?” asked the Coroner.
”Nothing!” replied Lauriston. ”It was all perfectly quiet.”
”What had you gone there to do?”
”To borrow some money--on two rings.”
”Your own property?”
”My own property!”
”Had you been there before, on any errand of that sort?”
”Only once.”
”When was that?”
”Last week,” answered Lauriston. ”I p.a.w.ned my watch there.”
”You have, in fact, been short of money?”
”Yes. But only temporarily--I was expecting money.”
”I hope it has since arrived,” said the Coroner.
”Mr. Ayscough was with me when it did arrive,” replied Lauriston, glancing at the detective. ”We found it--two letters--at my lodgings when he walked round there with me after what I have just told you of.”
”You had done your business on that previous occasion with the grand-daughter?” asked the Coroner. ”You had not seen the old man, then?”
”I never to my knowledge saw Mr. Multenius till I found him lying dead in his own parlour,” answered Lauriston.
The Coroner turned from the witness, and glanced towards the table at which Mr. Parminter and the police officials sat. And Mr. Parminter slowly rose and looked at Lauriston, and put his first question--in a quiet, almost suave voice, as if he and the witness were going to have a pleasant and friendly little talk together.
”So your ambition is to be a writer of fiction?” he asked.
”I am a writer of fiction!” replied Lauriston.
Mr. Parminter pulled out a snuff-box and helped himself to a pinch.
”Have you published much?” he enquired, drily.
”Two or three stories--short stories.”
”Did they bring in much money?”
”Five pounds each.”
”Have you done anything else for a living but that since you came to London two years ago?”