The House Opposite: A Mystery. Elizabeth Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ replied the girl, “me and Jane did think as we’d heard a scream.”

      Ha, ha, thought I, and I saw Mr. Merritt indulge in one of his quiet smiles.

      “So you heard a scream,” said the Coroner.

      “I don’t know for sure; I thought so.”

      “At what time did you hear it?”

      “I don’t know, sir; some time in the night.”

      “What did you do when you heard it?”

      “Nothing, sir.”

      This was all that could be got out of her, so she made way for the cook, who, after being cross-questioned at some length, did no more than corroborate the waitress’s statement, only she was more positive of having heard the “screech” as she called it.

      “Could you tell whether it was a man or woman who screamed?” inquired the Coroner.

      “It was a woman’s voice, sir.”

      Mr. Stuart, who was next admitted, proved to be a small, middle-aged man, extremely well groomed, and whom I recognized as one of the members of my Club, whose name I had never known. On being asked if he had ever seen the dead man before, he solemnly inserted a single eye-glass into his right eye, and contemplated the corpse with the greatest imperturbability.

      “So far as I can remember, I have never seen the man before,” he answered at last. After replying satisfactorily to a few more questions, he was allowed to retire, and his cook took his place. She was a large, stout woman about thirty years old, with a good deal of that coarse Southern beauty, which consists chiefly in snapping black eyes, masses of dark hair, and good teeth. On catching sight of the corpse, she threw up her hands and uttered a succession of squeals, which she seemed to consider due to the horror of the occasion, and then turned serenely towards the Coroner, and with a slight courtesy stood smilingly awaiting his questions.

      “What is your name?” he inquired.

      “Jeanne Alexandrine Argot,” she replied.

      “You are in the employ of Mr. Stuart?”

      “Yes, sar. I ’ave been with Mr. Stuah, six a years, and he tell you–”

      “Please look at the deceased, and tell me if you have ever seen him before?” the Coroner hastily interrupted.

      “No, sar.”

      After answering a few more questions with overpowering volubility, she withdrew, and her husband entered. He was a tall, vigorous man, with large hawk-like eyes, apparently a good deal older than his wife. He bowed to us all on entering, and stood respectfully near the door, waiting to be spoken to.

      “What is your name?” inquired the Coroner.

      “Celestin Marie Argot.”

      “You work for Mr. Stuart?”

      “Yes, sar; I am Meester Stuah’s butlair.”

      “Look at this corpse, and tell me if you can identify it as that of any one you know, or have ever seen?”

      He now glanced for the first time at the body, and I thought I saw his face contract slightly. But the expression was so fleeting that I could not be sure of it, and when he raised his head a few moments later he seemed perfectly composed and answered calmly: “I do not know ze man.”

      Apparently the Coroner was not completely satisfied, for he went on: “You know that this man has been murdered, and that it is your duty to give us any information that might lead to his identification. Have you seen any suspicious persons about the building during the last few days?”

      “No, sar; nobody,”—but I thought he had hesitated an instant before answering.

      “You must see a good many people pass up and down the back stairs,” the detective remarked; “especially in this hot weather, when you must be obliged to leave the kitchen door open a good deal so as to get a draught.”

      The man cast a hurried, and I thought an apprehensive, glance at Mr. Merritt, and replied quickly: “Yes, sar; ze door is open almos’ all ze time, but I ’ave seen nobody.”

      “Nobody?” repeated the detective.

      “Yes, sar,” Argot asserted, still more emphatically. “No vone, excep’ ze butchair, ze bakair, and ze ozer tradesmen, of course.”

      “How early are you likely to open the kitchen door? To leave it open, I mean?”

      “Oh, not till eight o’clock, perhap—Madame Argot, she stay in déshabille till zen.”

      “What time do you go to bed?”

      “At ten o’clock generally, but some time eleven o’clock—even midnight—it depens.”

      “What time did you go to bed on Tuesday?”

      “At eleven, sar.”

      “What had you been doing during the evening?”

      “I had been at a restaurant wiz some friends.”

      “And when did you return?”

      “At about half-pas’ ten.”

      “Did you come in the back way?”

      “Yes, sar.”

      “How did you get in?”

      “My wife, she open ze door.”

      “And you saw nobody as you came in?”

      He paused almost imperceptibly. “No, sar,” he answered. But I was now convinced that he was holding something back.

      “Very well; you can go,” said the Coroner. The fellow bowed himself out with a good deal of quiet dignity.

      “I kinder fancy that man knows something he won’t tell,” said the Coroner. “Now, we’ve seen every one but the workmen,” he continued, wearily, mopping his forehead. “I don’t believe one of them knows a thing; still, I’ve got to go through with it, I suppose,” and going to the door he beckoned them all in.

      There were five of them, including the foreman, and they appeared to be quiet, respectable young men. After looking at the dead man intently for some minutes, they all asserted that they had never laid eyes on him before.

      “Now have any of you noticed during the three days you have been working here anybody who might have taken the key, kept it for some hours, and returned it without your noticing it?” inquired the Coroner.

      “We’ve seen no strangers,” the foreman replied, cautiously.

      “Who have you seen?” The foreman was evidently prepared for this question.

      “Well, sir, we’ve seen altogether six people: Jim, and Joe, and Tony, Mr. McGorry, Miss Derwent, and the Frinchman,” he replied, checking them off on his fingers.

      “When did the Frenchman come up here?”

      “Yistidy СКАЧАТЬ