ROBERT BARR Ultimate Collection: 20 Novels & 65+ Detective Stories. Robert Barr

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СКАЧАТЬ Hale, much impressed, nodded acquiescence, and I took a polite leave of him.

      The question of lighting is an important one in a room such as mine, and electricity offers a good deal of scope to the ingenious. Of this fact I have taken full advantage. I can manipulate the lighting of my room so that any particular spot is bathed in brilliancy, while the rest of the space remains in comparative gloom, and I arranged the lamps so that the full force of their rays impinged against the door that Wednesday evening, while I sat on one side of the table in semi-darkness and Hale sat on the other, with a light beating down on him from above which gave him the odd, sculptured look of a living statue of Justice, stern and triumphant. Anyone entering the room would first be dazzled by the light, and next would see the gigantic form of Hale in the full uniform of his order.

      When Angus Macpherson was shown into this room he was quite visibly taken aback, and paused abruptly on the threshold, his gaze riveted on the huge policeman. I think his first purpose was to turn and run, but the door closed behind him, and he doubtless heard, as we all did, the sound of the bolt being thrust in its place, thus locking him in.

      'I—I beg your pardon,' he stammered, 'I expected to meet Mr. Webster.'

      As he said this, I pressed the button under my table, and was instantly enshrouded with light. A sickly smile overspread the countenance of Macpherson as he caught sight of me, and he made a very creditable attempt to carry off the situation with nonchalance.

      'Oh, there you are, Mr. Webster; I did not notice you at first.'

      It was a tense moment. I spoke slowly and impressively.

      'Sir, perhaps you are not unacquainted with the name of Eugène Valmont.'

      He replied brazenly,—

      'I am sorry to say, sir, I never heard of the gentleman before.'

      At this came a most inopportune 'Haw-haw' from that blockhead Spenser Hale, completely spoiling the dramatic situation I had elaborated with such thought and care. It is little wonder the English possess no drama, for they show scant appreciation of the sensational moments in life.

      'Haw-haw,' brayed Spenser Hale, and at once reduced the emotional atmosphere to a fog of commonplace. However, what is a man to do? He must handle the tools with which it pleases Providence to provide him. I ignored Hale's untimely laughter.

      'Sit down, sir,' I said to Macpherson, and he obeyed.

      'You have called on Lord Semptam this week,' I continued sternly.

      'Yes, sir.'

      'And collected a pound from him?'

      'Yes, sir.'

      'In October, 1893, you sold Lord Semptam a carved antique table for fifty pounds?'

      'Quite right, sir.'

      'When you were here last week you gave me Ralph Summertrees as the name of a gentleman living in Park Lane. You knew at the time that this man was your employer?'

      Macpherson was now looking fixedly at me, and on this occasion made no reply. I went on calmly:—

      'You also knew that Summertrees, of Park Lane, was identical with Simpson, of Tottenham Court Road?'

      'Well, sir,' said Macpherson, 'I don't exactly see what you're driving at, but it's quite usual for a man to carry on a business under an assumed name. There is nothing illegal about that.'

      'We will come to the illegality in a moment, Mr. Macpherson. You, and Rogers, and Tyrrel, and three others, are confederates of this man Simpson.'

      'We are in his employ; yes, sir, but no more confederates than clerks usually are.'

      'I think, Mr. Macpherson, I have said enough to show you that the game is, what you call, up. You are now in the presence of Mr. Spenser Hale, from Scotland Yard, who is waiting to hear your confession.'

      Here the stupid Hale broke in with his—

      'And remember, sir, that anything you say will be—'

      'Excuse me, Mr. Hale,' I interrupted hastily, 'I shall turn over the case to you in a very few moments, but I ask you to remember our compact, and to leave it for the present entirely in my hands. Now, Mr Macpherson, I want your confession, and I want it at once.'

      'Confession? Confederates?' protested Macpherson with admirably simulated surprise. 'I must say you use extraordinary terms, Mr—Mr—What did you say the name was?'

      'Haw-haw,' roared Hale. 'His name is Monsieur Valmont.'

      'I implore you, Mr. Hale, to leave this man to me for a very few moments. Now, Macpherson, what have you to say in your defence?'

      'Where nothing criminal has been alleged, Monsieur Valmont, I see no necessity for defence. If you wish me to admit that somehow you have acquired a number of details regarding our business, I am perfectly willing to do so, and to subscribe to their accuracy. If you will be good enough to let me know of what you complain, I shall endeavour to make the point clear to you if I can. There has evidently been some misapprehension, but for the life of me, without further explanation, I am as much in a fog as I was on my way coming here, for it is getting a little thick outside.'

      Macpherson certainly was conducting himself with great discretion, and presented, quite unconsciously, a much more diplomatic figure than my friend, Spenser Hale, sitting stiffly opposite me. His tone was one of mild expostulation, mitigated by the intimation that all misunderstanding speedily would be cleared away. To outward view he offered a perfect picture of innocence, neither protesting too much nor too little. I had, however, another surprise in store for him, a trump card, as it were, and I played it down on the table.

      'There!' I cried with vim, 'have you ever seen that sheet before?'

      He glanced at it without offering to take it in his hand.

      'Oh, yes,' he said, 'that has been abstracted from our file. It is what I call my visiting list.'

      'Come, come, sir,' I cried sternly, 'you refuse to confess, but I warn you we know all about it. You never heard of Dr. Willoughby, I suppose?'

      'Yes, he is the author of the silly pamphlet on Christian Science.'

      'You are in the right, Mr. Macpherson; on Christian Science and Absent-Mindedness.'

      'Possibly. I haven't read it for a long while.'

      'Have you ever met this learned doctor, Mr. Macpherson?'

      'Oh, yes. Dr. Willoughby is the pen-name of Mr. Summertrees. He believes in Christian Science and that sort of thing, and writes about it.'

      'Ah, really. We are getting your confession bit by bit, Mr. Macpherson. I think it would be better to be quite frank with us.'

      'I was just going to make the same suggestion to you, Monsieur Valmont. If you will tell me in a few words exactly what is your charge against either Mr. Summertrees or myself, I will know then what to say.'

      'We charge you, sir, with obtaining money under false pretences, which is a crime that has landed more than one distinguished financier in prison.'

      Spenser СКАЧАТЬ