CHAPTER XXVI
THE VIRTUES OF SUSPICION
During that week Mallalieu was to learn by sad experience that it is avery poor thing to acquire information at second hand. There he was, astrictly-guarded--if a cosseted and pampered--prisoner, unable to puthis nose outside the cottage, and entirely dependent on Chris Pett forany and all news of the world which lay so close at hand and was justthen so deeply and importantly interesting to him. Time hung veryheavily on his hands. There were books enough on the shelves of hisprison-parlour, but the late Kitely's taste had been of a purelyprofessional nature, and just then Mallalieu had no liking for murdercases, criminal trials, and that sort of gruesomeness. He was constantlyasking for newspapers, and was skilfully put off--it was not withinChristopher's scheme of things to let Mallalieu get any accurate notionof what was really going on. Miss Pett did not take in a newspaper;Christopher invariably forgot to bring one in when he went to the town;twice, being pressed by Mallalieu to remember, he brought back _TheTimes_ of the day before--wherein, of course, Mallalieu failed to findanything about himself. And it was about himself that he so wanted tohear, about how things were, how people talked of him, what the policesaid, what was happening generally, and his only source of informationwas Chris.
Mr. Pett took good care to represent everything in his own fashion. Hewas assiduous in assuring Mallalieu that he was working in his interestwith might and main; jealous in proclaiming his own and his aunt'sintention to get him clear away to Norcaster. But he also never ceaseddilating on the serious nature of that enterprise, never wearied inprotesting how much risk he and Miss Pett were running; never refrainedfrom showing the captive how very black things were, and how muchblacker they would be if it were not for his present gaolers' goodness.And when he returned to the cottage after the inquest on Stoner, hisface was unusually long and grave as he prepared to tell Mallalieu thenews.
"Things are looking in a very bad way for you, Mr. Mallalieu," hewhispered, when he was closeted with Mallalieu in the little room whichthe captive now hated fiercely and loathingly. "They look in a very badway indeed, sir! If you were in any other hands than ours, Mr.Mallalieu, I don't know what you'd do. We're running the most fearfulrisks on your behalf, we are indeed. Things is--dismal!"
Mallalieu's temper, never too good, and all the worse for his enforcedconfinement, blazed up.
"Hang it! why don't you speak out plain?" he snarled. "Say what youmean, and be done with it! What's up now, like? Things are no worse thanthey were, I reckon."
Christopher slowly drew off one of the black kid gloves, and blew intoit before laying it on the table.
"No need to use strong language, Mr. Mallalieu," he said deprecatingly,as he calmly proceeded to divest the other hand. "No need at all,sir--between friends and gentlemen, Mr. Mallalieu!--things are a lotworse. The coroner's jury has returned a verdict of wilfulmurder--against you!"
Mallalieu's big face turned of a queer grey hue--that word murder wasparticularly distasteful to him.
"Against me!" he muttered. "Why me particularly? There were two of uscharged. What about Cotherstone?"
"I'm talking about the inquest" said Christopher. "They don't chargeanybody at inquests--they only inquire in general. The verdict's againstyou, and you only. And--it was Cotherstone's evidence that did it!"
"Cotherstone!" exclaimed Mallalieu. "Evidence against me! He's a liarif----"
"I'll tell you--all in due order," interrupted Chris. "Be calm, Mr.Mallalieu, and listen--be judicial."
But in spite of this exhortation, Mallalieu fumed and fretted, and whenChristopher had told him everything he looked as if it only required alittle resolution on his part to force himself to action.
"I've a good mind to go straight out o' this place and straight down tothe police!" he growled. "I have indeed!--a great mind to go and givemyself up, and have things proved."
"Do!" said Christopher, heartily. "I wish you would, sir. It 'ud save meand my poor aunt a world of trouble. Only--it's my duty as a dulyqualified solicitor of the High Court to inform you that every step youtake from this haven of refuge will be a step towards the--gallows!"
Mallalieu shrank back in his chair and stared at Mr. Pett's sharpfeatures. His own blanched once more.
"You're sure of that?" he demanded hoarsely.
"Certain!" replied Christopher. "No doubt of it, sir. I know!"
"What's to be done, then?" asked the captive.
Christopher assumed his best consultation-and-advice manner.
"What," he said at last, "in my opinion, is the best thing is to waitand see what happens when Cotherstone's brought up before the bench nextTuesday. You're safe enough until then--so long as you do what we tellyou. Although all the country is being watched and searched, there's notthe ghost of a notion that you're in Highmarket. So remain as content asyou can, Mr. Mallalieu, and as soon as we learn what takes place nextTuesday, we'll see about that plan of ours."
"Let's be knowing what it is," grumbled Mallalieu.
"Not quite matured, sir, yet," said Christopher as he rose and picked upthe silk hat and the kid gloves. "But when it is, you'll say--ah, you'llsay it's a most excellent one!"
So Mallalieu had to wait until the next Tuesday came round. He did thewaiting impatiently and restlessly. He ate, he drank, he slept--slept ashe had never slept in his life--but he knew that he was losing fleshfrom anxiety. It was with real concern that he glanced at Christopherwhen that worthy returned from the adjourned case on the Tuesdayafternoon. His face fell when he saw that Christopher was gloomier thanever.
"Worse and worse, Mr. Mallalieu!" whispered Christopher mysteriouslywhen he had shut the door. "Everything's against you, sir. It's allcentring and fastening on you. What do you think happened? Cotherstone'sdischarged!"
"What!" exclaimed Mallalieu, jumping in his chair. "Discharged! Why,then, they'd have discharged me!"
Christopher laid his finger on the side of his nose.
"Would they?" he said with a knowing wink. "Not much they wouldn't.Cotherstone's let loose--to give evidence against you. When you'recaught!"
Mallalieu's small eyes began to bulge, and a dull red to show on hischeek. He looked as if he were bursting with words which he could notget out, and Christopher Pett hastened to improve the occasion.
"It's my opinion it's all a plant!" he said. "A conspiracy, if you like,between Cotherstone and the authorities. Cotherstone, he's got thesmartest solicitor in Norcaster and the shrewdest advocate on thiscircuit--you know 'em, Mr. Mallalieu--Stilby's the solicitor, andGradston the barrister--and it strikes me it's a put-up job. D'ye seethrough it? First of all, Cotherstone gives evidence at that inquest: onhis evidence a verdict of murder is returned against--you! NowCotherstone's discharged by the magistrates--no further evidence beingoffered against him. Why? So that he can give evidence before themagistrates and at the Assizes against--you! That is--when you'recaught."
"They've got to catch me yet," growled Mallalieu. "Now then--what aboutthis plan of yours? For I'm going to wait no longer. Either you tell mewhat you're going to do for me, or I shall walk out o' that door as soonas it's dark tonight and take my chances. D'ye hear that?"
Christopher rose, opened the door, and softly called Miss Pett. And MissPett came, took a seat, folded her thin arms, and looked attentively ather learned nephew.
"Yes, sir," said Christopher, resuming the conversation, "I hearthat--and we are now ready to explain plans and discuss terms. You will,of course, recompense us, Mr. Mallalieu?"
"I've said all along that you'd not lose by me," retorted Mallalieu."Aught in reason, I'll pay. But--this plan o' yours? I'm going to knowwhat it is before we come to any question of paying. So out with it!"
"Well, it's an excellent plan," responded Christopher. "You say thatyou'll be safe if you're set down in a certain part of Norcaster--nearthe docks. Now that will suit our plans exactly. You're aware, ofcourse, Mr. Mallalieu, that my aunt here is about to remove her goodsand chattels--bequeathed by Mr. Ki
tely, deceased--from this house? Verywell--the removal's to take place tomorrow. I have already arranged withMr. Strawson, furniture remover, to send up a couple of vans tomorrowmorning, very early. Into those vans the furniture will be placed, andthe vans will convey it to Norcaster, whence they will be transshippedbodily to London, by sea. Mr. Mallalieu--you'll leave here, sir, in oneof those vans!"
Mallalieu listened, considered, began to see possibilities.
"Aye!" he said, with a cunning glance. "Aye!--that's not a bad notion. Ican see my way in that respect. But--how am I going to get into a vanhere, and got out of it there, without the vanmen knowing?"
"I've thought it all out," answered Christopher. "You must keep snug inthis room until afternoon. We'll get the first van off in themorning--say by noon. I'll so contrive that the second van won't beready to start until after it's dusk. When it is ready the men'll godown to fetch their horses--I'll give 'em something to get themselves adrink before they come back--that'll delay 'em a bit longer. And whilethey're away, we'll slip you into the van--and I shall go with that vanto Norcaster. And when we get to the shed at Norcaster where the vansare to be left, the two men will go away with their horses--and I shalllet you out. It's a good plan, Mr. Mallalieu."
"It'll do, anyhow," agreed Mallalieu, who felt heartily relieved. "We'lltry it. But you must take all possible care until I'm in, and we're off.The least bit of a slip----"
Mr. Pett drily remarked that if any slips occurred they would not be ofhis making--after which both he and his aunt coughed several times andlooked at the guest-prisoner in a fashion which seemed to invite speechfrom him.
"All right then," said Mallalieu. "Tomorrow, you say? All right--allright!"
Miss Pett coughed again and began to make pleats in her apron.
"Of course, Christopher," she said, addressing her nephew as if therewere no other person present, "of course, Mr. Mallalieu has not yetstated his terms."
"Oh!--ah!--just so!" replied Christopher, starting as from a pensivereverie. "Ah, to be sure. Now, what would you say, Mr. Mallalieu? How doyou feel disposed, sir?"
Mallalieu looked fixedly from aunt to nephew, from nephew to aunt. Thenhis face became hard and rigid.
"Fifty pound apiece!" he said. "That's how I'm disposed. And you don'tget an offer like that every day, I know. Fifty pound apiece!"
Miss Pett inclined her turbaned head towards her right shoulder andsighed heavily: Mr. Pett folded his hands, looked at the ceiling, andwhistled.
"We don't get an offer like that every day!" he murmured. "No!--I shouldthink we didn't! Fifty pound apiece!--a hundred pound altogether--forsaving a fellow-creature from the gallows! Oh, Mr. Mallalieu!"
"Hang it!--how much money d'ye think I'm likely to carry on me?--me!--inmy unfortunate position!" snarled Mallalieu. "D'ye think----"
"Christopher," observed Miss Pett, rising and making for the door, "Ishould suggest that Mr. Mallalieu is left to consider matters. Perhapswhen he's reflected a bit----"
She and her nephew went out, leaving Mallalieu fuming and grumbling. Andonce in the living-room she turned to Christopher with a shake of thehead.
"What did I tell you?" she said. "Mean as a miser! My plan's much thebest. We'll help ourselves--and then we can snap our fingers at him.I'll give him an extra strong nightcap tonight, and then...."
But before the close of that evening came Mallalieu's notions underwenta change. He spent the afternoon in thinking. He knew that he was in thepower of two people who, if they could, would skin him. And the more hethought, the more he began to be suspicious--and suddenly he wonderedwhy he slept so heavily at night, and all of a sudden he saw the reason.Drugged!--that old she-devil was drugging his drink. That was it, ofcourse--but it had been for the last time: she shouldn't do it again.
That night when Miss Pett brought the hot toddy, mixed according to therecipe of the late Kitely, Mallalieu took it at his door, saying he wasarrayed for sleep, and would drink it when in bed. After which hecarefully poured it into a flower-pot that graced his room, and when hepresently lay down it was with eyes and ears open and his revolver readyto his right hand.