CHAPTER XIV
"There is one link in the chain missing," said Rolfe, who was discussingwith Inspector Chippenfield, in the latter's room at Scotland Yard, thestrength of the case against Birchill.
"And what is that?" asked his superior.
"The piece of woman's handkerchief that I found in the dead man's hand.You remember we agreed that it showed there was a woman in the case."
"Well, what do you call this girl Fanning? Isn't she in the case? Surely,you don't want any better explanation of the murder than a quarrelbetween her and Sir Horace over this man Birchill?"
"Yes, I see that plain enough," replied Rolfe. "There is ample motive forthe crime, but how that piece of handkerchief got into the dead man'shand is still a mystery to me. It would be easily explained if this girlwas present in the room or the house when the murder was committed. Butshe wasn't. Hill's story is that she was at the flat with him."
"When you have had as much experience in investigating crime as I have,you won't worry over little points that at first don't seem to fit inwith what we know to be facts," responded the inspector in a patronisingtone. "I noticed from the first, Rolfe, that you were inclined to maketoo much of this handkerchief business, but I said nothing. Of course, itwas your own discovery, and I have found during my career that youngdetectives are always inclined to make too much of their own discoveries.Perhaps I was myself, when I was young and inexperienced. Now, as to thishandkerchief: what is more likely than that Birchill had it in his pocketwhen he went out to Riversbrook on that fatal night? He was living inthe flat with this girl Fanning: what was more natural than that heshould pick up a handkerchief off the floor that the girl had dropped andput it in his pocket with the intention of giving it to her when shereturned to the room? Instead of doing so he forgot all about it. When heshot Sir Horace Fewbanks he put his hand into his pocket for ahandkerchief to wipe his forehead or his hands--it was a hot night, and Itake it that a man who has killed another doesn't feel as cool as acucumber. While stooping over his victim with the handkerchief still inhis hand, the dying man made a convulsive movement and caught hold of acorner of the handkerchief, which was torn off." Inspector Chippenfieldlooked across at his subordinate with a smile of triumphant superiority.
"Yes," said Rolfe meditatively. "There is nothing wrong about that as faras I can see. But I would like to know for certain how it got there."
Inspector Chippenfield was satisfied with his subordinate's testimony tohis perspicacity.
"That is all right, Rolfe," he said in a tone of kindly banter. "Butdon't make the mistake of regarding your idle curiosity as a virtue.After the trial, if you are still curious on the point, I have nodoubt Birchill will tell you. He is sure to make a confession beforehe is hanged."
But it was more a spirit of idle curiosity than anything else thatbrought Rolfe to Crewe's chambers in Holborn an hour later. Havingsecured the murderer, he felt curious as to what Crewe's feelings were onhis defeat. It was the first occasion that he had been on a case whichCrewe had been commissioned to investigate, and he was naturally pleasedthat Inspector Chippenfield and he had arrested the author of the crimewhile Crewe was all at sea. It was plain from the fact that the latterhad thought it necessary to visit Scotland that he had got on a falsescent. It was not Scotland, but Scotland Yard that Crewe should havevisited, Rolfe said to himself with a smile.
Crewe, in pursuance of his policy of keeping on the best of terms withthe police, gave Rolfe a very friendly welcome. He produced from acupboard two glasses, a decanter of whisky, a siphon of soda, and a boxof cigars. Rolfe quickly discovered that the cigars were of a qualitythat seldom came his way, and he leaned back in his chair and puffed withsteady enjoyment.
"Then you are determined to hang Birchill?" said Crewe, as with a cigarin his fingers he faced his visitor with a smile.
"We'll hang him right enough," said Rolfe. He pulled the cigar out of hismouth and looked at it approvingly. Though the talk was of hanging, hehad never felt more thoroughly at peace with the world.
"It will be a pity if you do," said Crewe.
"Why?"
"Because he's the wrong man."
"It would take a lot to make me believe that," said Rolfe stoutly. "We'vegot a strong case against him--there is not a weak point in it. I admitthat Hill is a tainted witness, but they'll find it pretty hard to breakdown his story. We've tested it in every way and find it stands. Thenthere are the bootmarks outside the window. Birchill's boots fit them tothe smallest fraction of an inch. The jemmy found in the flat fits themark made in the window at Riversbrook, and we've got somethingmore--another witness who saw him in Tanton Gardens about the time of themurder. If Birchill can get his neck out of the noose, he's cleverer thanI take him for."
Crewe did not reply directly to Rolfe's summary of the case.
"I see that they've briefed Holymead for the defence," he saidafter a pause.
"A waste of good money," said the police officer. Something appealed tohis sense of humour, for he broke out into a laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" asked Crewe.
"I was wondering how Sir Horace feels when he sees the money he gavethis girl Fanning being used to defend his murderer."
"You are a hardened scamp, Rolfe, with a very perverse sense of humour,"said Crewe.
"It was a cunning move of them to get Holymead," said Rolfe. "They thinkit will weigh with the jury because he was such a close friend of SirHorace--that he wouldn't have taken up the case unless he felt thatBirchill was innocent. But you and I know better than that, Mr. Crewe. Alawyer will prove that black is white if he is paid for it. In fact, Iunderstand that, according to the etiquette of the bar, they have got todo it. A barrister has to abide by his brief and leave his personalfeelings out of account."
"That's so. Theoretically he is an officer of the Court, and his servicesare supposed to be at the call of any man who is in want of him and canafford to pay for them. Of course, a leading barrister, such as Holymead,often declines a brief because he has so much to do, but he is notsupposed to decline it for personal reasons."
"His heart will not be in the case," said Rolfe philosophically.
"On the contrary, I think it will," said Crewe. "My own opinion is that,if necessary, he will exert his powers to the utmost in order to getBirchill off, and that he will succeed."
"Not he," said Rolfe confidently. "Our case is too strong."
"You've got a lot of circumstantial evidence, but a clever lawyer willpull it to pieces. Circumstantial evidence has hung many a man, and itwill hang many more. But a jury will hesitate to convict oncircumstantial evidence when it can be shown that the conduct of theprisoner is at variance with what the conduct of a guilty man would be. Idon't bet, but I'll wager you a box of cigars to nothing that Holymeadgets Birchill off."
"It's a one-sided wager, but I'll take the cigars because I could dowith a box of these," said Rolfe. "You might as well give them to me now,Mr. Crewe."
"No, no," said Crewe with a smile. "Put a couple in your pocket now,because you won't win the box."
"Of course, I understand, Mr. Crewe, why you say Birchill is the wrongman. You feel a bit sore because we have beaten you. I would feel soremyself in your place, and I don't deny that we got information that putus on Birchill's track, and therefore it was easier for us to solve themystery than it was for you."
"I'm not a bit sore," said Crewe. "I can take a beating, especially whenthe men who beat me are good sportsmen." He bowed towards Rolfe, andthat officer blushed as he recalled how Inspector Chippenfield and hehad agreed to withhold information from Crewe and try to put him on afalse scent.
"I wish you'd tell me what you consider the weak points of our caseagainst Birchill," asked Rolfe.
"Your case is based on Hill's confession, and that to my mind is false inmany details," said Crewe. "Take, for instance, his account of how hecame into contact with Birchill again. This girl Fanning, after a quarrelwith Sir Horace, came over to Riversbrook with a messag
e for Hill whichwas virtually a threat. Now does that seem probable? The girl who hadbeen in the habit of visiting Sir Horace goes over to see Hill. No womanin the circumstances would do anything of the sort. She had too good anopinion of herself to take a message to a servant at a house from whichshe had been expelled by the owner, who had been keeping her. How wouldshe have felt if she had run into Sir Horace? It is true that Sir Horaceleft for Scotland the day before, but it is improbable that the girl whohad quarrelled with Sir Horace a fortnight before knew the exact date onwhich he intended to leave. And how did Hill behave when he got themessage? According to his story, he consented to go and see Birchillunder threat of exposure, and he consented to become an accomplice in theburglary for the same reason. Sir Horace knew all about Hill's past, sowhy should he fear a threat of exposure?"
"Hill explained that," interposed Rolfe. "He pointed out that, though SirHorace knew his past, he couldn't afford to have any scandal about it."
"Quite so. But could Birchill afford to threaten a man who was under theprotection of Sir Horace Fewbanks? Would Birchill pit himself against SirHorace? I think that Sir Horace, knowing the law pretty thoroughly, wouldsoon have found a way to deal with Birchill. If Hill was threatened byBirchill, his first impulse, knowing what a powerful protector he had inSir Horace Fewbanks, would have been to go to him and seek his protectionagainst this dangerous old associate of his convict days. According toHill's own story, he was something in the nature of a confidentialservant, trusted to some extent with the secrets of Sir Horace's doublelife. What more likely than such a man, threatened as he describes,should turn to his master who had shielded him and trusted him?"
"I confess that is a point which never struck me," said Rolfethoughtfully.
"Now, let us go on to the meeting between Hill and Birchill," continuedCrewe. "This girl Fanning, discarded by Sir Horace, because he'ddiscovered she was playing him false with Birchill, is made theostensible reason for Birchill's wishing to commit a burglary atRiversbrook, because Birchill wants, as he says, to get even with SirHorace Fewbanks. Is it likely that Birchill would confide his desire forrevenge so frankly to Sir Horace's confidential servant, the trustedcustodian of his master's valuables, who could rely on his master'sprotection--the protection of a highly-placed man of whom Birchill stoodadmittedly in fear, and whom he knew, according to Hill's story, wasunassailable from his slander? What had Hill to fear, from the threats ofa man like Birchill, when he was living under Sir Horace Fewbanks'sprotection? All that Hill had to do when Birchill tried to induce him,by threats of exposure of his past, to help in a burglary at his master'shouse, was to threaten to tell everything to Sir Horace. Birchill toldHill that he was frightened of Sir Horace Fewbanks, the judge who hadsentenced him.
"Then Birchill's confidence in Hill is remarkable, any way you look atit. He sends for Hill, whom he had known in gaol, and whom he hadn't seensince, to confide in him that it is his intention to burgle hisemployer's house. He rashly assumes that Hill will do all that he wishes,and he proceeds to lay his cards on the table. But even supposing thatBirchill was foolish enough to do this--to trust a chance gaolacquaintance so implicitly--there is a far more puzzling action on hispart. Why did he want Hill's assistance to burgle a practicallyunprotected house? I confess I have great difficulty in understanding whysuch an accomplished flash burglar as Birchill, one of the best men atthe game in London at the present time, should want the assistance of anamateur like Hill in such a simple job."
Rolfe looked startled.
"Hill says he wanted a plan of the house and to know what valuables itcontained."
Crewe smiled.
"And has it been your experience among criminals, Rolfe, that a burglarmust have a plan of the place he intends to burgle, and that to get thisplan he will give himself away to any man who can supply it? A plan hasits uses, but it is indispensable only when a very difficult job is beingundertaken, such as breaking through a wall or a ceiling to get at a roomwhich contains a safe. This job was as simple as A B C. And besides, asfar as I can make out, Birchill knew--the girl Fanning must haveknown--that Sir Horace would be going away some time in August and thatthe house would be empty. Did he want a plan of an empty house? He wouldbe free to roam all over it when he had forced a window."
"He wanted to know what valuables were there," said Rolfe.
"And therefore took Hill into his confidence. If Hill had told hismaster--even Birchill would realise the risk of that--there would be novaluables to get. Next, we come to Sir Horace Fewbanks's unexpectedreturn. According to Hill's story, he made some tentative efforts tocommence a confession as soon as he saw his employer, but Sir Horace wasupset about something and was too impatient to listen to a word. Is sucha story reasonable or likely? Hill says that Sir Horace had alwaystreated him well; and according to his earlier statement, when hepermitted himself to be terrorised into agreeing to this burglary, hetold himself that chance would throw in his way some opportunity ofinforming his master. And he told you that Birchill, mistrusting hisunwilling accomplice, hurried on the date of the burglary so as to givehim no such opportunity. Well, chance throws in Hill's way the veryopportunity he has been seeking, but he is too frightened to use itbecause Sir Horace happens to return in an angry or impatient mood.
"Let us take Birchill's attitude when Hill tells him that Sir Horace hasunexpectedly returned from Scotland. Birchill is suspicious that Hillhas played him false, and naturally so, but Hill, instead of letting himthink so, and thus preventing the burglary from taking place, does allhe can to reassure him, while at the same time begging him to postponethe burglary. That was hardly the best way to go about it. Let uscharitably assume that Hill was too frightened to let Birchill remainunder the impression that he'd played him false, and let us look atBirchill's attitude. It is inconceivable that Birchill should havepermitted himself to be reassured, when right through the negotiationsbetween himself and Hill he showed the most marked distrust of thelatter. Yet, according to Hill, he suddenly abandons this attitude forone of trusting credulity, meekly accepting the assurance of the man hedistrusts that Sir Horace Fewbanks's unexpected return from Scotland onthe very night the burglary is to be committed is not a trap to catchhim, but a coincidence. Then, after drinking himself nearly blind, hesets forth with a revolver to commit a burglary on the house of thejudge who tried him, on Hill's bare word that everything is all right.Guileless, trusting, simple-minded Birchill!
"Hill is left locked up in the flat with the girl; for Birchill, who hasjust trusted him implicitly in a far more important matter affecting hisown liberty, has a belated sense of caution about trusting his unworthyaccomplice while he is away committing the burglary. The time goes on;the couple in the flat hear the clock strike twelve before Birchill'sreturning footsteps are heard. He enters, and immediately announces toHill and the girl, with every symptom of strongly marked terror, thatwhile on his burglarious mission, he has come across the dead body of SirHorace Fewbanks--murdered in his own house. Mark that! he tells themfreely and openly--tells Hill--as soon as he gets in the flat. Allowingfor possible defects in my previous reasoning against Hill's story,admitting that an adroit prosecuting counsel may be able to buttress upsome of the weak points, allowing that you may have other circumstantialevidence supporting your case, that is the fatal flaw in your chain:because of Birchill's statement on his return to the flat no jury in theworld ought to convict him."
"I don't see why," said Rolfe.
Crewe fixed his deep eyes intently on Rolfe as he replied:
"Because, if Birchill had committed this murder, he would never haveadmitted immediately on his returning, least of all to Hill, anythingabout the dead body."
"But he told Hill that he didn't commit the murder," protested Rolfe.
"But you say that he did commit the murder," retorted the detective."You cannot use that piece of evidence both ways. Your case is that thisman Birchill, while visiting Riversbrook to commit a burglary which heand Hill arranged, encountered Sir Horace Few
banks and murdered him. Isay that his admission to Hill on his return to the flat that he had comeacross the body of Sir Horace Fewbanks, is proof that Birchill did notcommit the murder. No murderer would make such a damning admission, leastof all to a man he didn't trust--to a man who he believed was capable ofentrapping him. Next you have Birchill consenting to a message being sentto Scotland Yard conveying the information that Sir Horace had beenmurdered. Is that the action of a guilty man? Wouldn't it have been moreto his interest to leave the dead man's body undiscovered in the emptyhouse and bolt from the country? It might have remained a week or morebefore being discovered. True, he would have had to find some way ofsilencing Hill while he got away from the country. He might have had toresort to the crude method of tying Hill up, gagging him, and leaving himin the flat. But even that would have been better than to inform thepolice immediately of the murder and place his life at the mercy of Hill,whom he distrusted."
"Looked at your way, I admit that there are some weak points in ourcase," said Rolfe. "But you'll find that our Counsel will be able toanswer most of them in his address to the jury. If Birchill didn'tcommit the murder, who did? Do you deny that he went up to Riversbrookthat night?"
"The letter sent to Scotland Yard shows that some one was there besidesthe murderer. If Birchill was there and helped to write the letter--andso much is part of your case--he wasn't the murderer. In short, I believeBirchill went up there to commit a burglary and found the murdered bodyof Sir Horace."
"Do you think that Hill did it?" asked Rolfe.
"That is more than I'd like to say. As a matter of fact I have been soobtuse as to neglect Hill somewhat in my investigations. In fact, Ididn't know until I got hold of a copy of his statement to the policethat he was an ex-convict. Inspector Chippenfield omitted to inform me ofthe fact."
"I didn't know that," said Rolfe, without a blush, as he rose to go. "Heought to have told you."