CHAPTER XXXI
When they reached Riversbrook they entered the carriage drive andtraversed the plantation until they stood on the edge of the Italiangarden facing the house. The gaunt, irregular mansion stood empty anddeserted, for Miss Fewbanks had left the place after her father'sfuneral, with the determination not to return to it. The wind whistleddrearily through the nooks and crannies of the unfinished brickwork ofthe upper story, and a faint evening mist rose from the soddened gardenand floated in a thin cloud past the library window, as though the ghostof the dead judge were revisiting the house in search of his murderer.The garden had lost its summer beauty and was littered with dead leavesfrom the trees. The gathering greyness of an autumn twilight added to thedreariness of the scene.
"Kemp didn't say how far he stood from the house," said Crewe, "but we'llassume he stood at the edge of the plantation--about where we arestanding now--to begin with. How far are we from that library window,Chippenfield?"
"About fifty yards, I should say," said the inspector, measuring itwith his eye.
"I should say seventy," said Rolfe.
"And I say somewhere midway between the two," said Crewe, with a smile."But we will soon see. Just hold down the end of this measuring tape, oneof you." He produced a measuring tape as he spoke, and started to unwindit, walking rapidly towards the house as he did so. "Sixty-two yards!" hesaid, as he returned. He made a note of the distance in his pocket-book."So much for that," he said, "but that's not enough. I want you to standunder the library window, Rolfe, by that chestnut-tree in front of it,and act as pivot for the measuring tape while I look at that window fromvarious angles. My idea is to go in a semicircle right round the garden,starting at the garage by the edge of the wood, so as to see the librarywindow and measure the distance at every possible point at which Kempcould have stood."
"You're going to a lot of trouble for nothing, if your object is to tryand prove that he couldn't have seen into the window," grunted InspectorChippenfield, in a mystified voice. "Why, I can see plainly into thewindow from here."
Crewe smiled, but did not reply. Followed by Rolfe, he went back to thetree by the library window, where he posted Rolfe with the end of thetape in his hand. Then he walked slowly back across the garden in thedirection of the garage, keeping his eye on the library window on thefirst floor from which Kemp, according to his evidence, had seen SirHorace leaning out after Holymead had left the house. He returned to thetree, noting the measurement in his book as he did so, and then repeatedthe process, walking backwards with his eye fixed on the window, but thistime taking a line more to the left. Again and again he repeated theprocess, until finally he had walked backwards from the tree in narrowsegments of a big semicircle, finishing up on the boundary of the Italiangarden on the other side of the grounds, and almost directly opposite tothe garage from which he had started.
"There's no use going further back than that," he said, turning toInspector Chippenfield, who had followed him round, smoking one ofCrewe's cigars, and very much mystified by the whole proceedings, thoughhe would not have admitted it on any account. "At this point wepractically lose sight of the window altogether, except for an obliqueglimpse. Certainly Kemp would not come as far back as this--he would haveno object in doing so."
"I quite agree with you," said Inspector Chippenfield. "He would standmore in the front of the house. The tree in front of the house doesn'tobstruct the view of the window to any extent."
The tree to which Inspector Chippenfield referred was a solitarychestnut-tree, which grew close to the house a little distance from themain entrance, and reached to a height of about forty feet. Its brancheswere entirely bare of leaves, for the autumn frosts and winds had sweptthe foliage away.
Rolfe, who had been watching Crewe's manoeuvres curiously, walked up tothem with the tape in his hand. He glanced at the library window on thefirst floor as he reached them.
"Kemp could have seen the library window if he had stood here," he said."I should say that if the blind were up it would be possible to see rightinto the room."
"What do you say, Chippenfield?" asked Crewe, turning to that officer.
Inspector Chippenfield had taken his stand stolidly on the centre path ofthe Italian garden, directly in front of the window of the library.
"I say Kemp is a liar," he replied, knocking the ash off his cigar. "Ad----d liar," he added emphatically. "I don't believe he was here at allthat night."
"But if he was here, do you think he saw Sir Horace leaning out ofthe window?"
"I don't see what was to prevent him," was the reply. "But my point isthat he was a liar and that he wasn't here at all."
"And you, Rolfe--do you think Kemp could have seen Sir Horace leaning outof the window if he had been here?"
"I should say so," remarked Rolfe, in a somewhat puzzled tone.
"I am sorry I cannot agree with either of you," said Crewe. "I think Kempwas here, but I am sure he couldn't have seen Sir Horace from the window.Kemp has been up here during the past few days in order to prepare hisevidence, and he's been led astray by a very simple mistake. If a manwere to lean outside the library window now there would not be muchdifficulty in identifying him, but when the murder took place it wouldhave been impossible to see him from any part of the garden or grounds."
"Why?" demanded Inspector Chippenfield.
"Because it was the middle of summer when Sir Horace Fewbanks wasmurdered. At that time that chestnut-tree would be in full leaf, and thefoliage would hide the window completely. Look at the number of branchesthe tree has! They stretch all over the window and even round the cornersof that unfinished brickwork on the first floor by the side of thelibrary window. A man could no more see through that tree in summer timethan he could see through a stone wall."
"What did I tell you?" exclaimed Inspector Chippenfield in the voice of aman whose case had been fully proved. "Didn't I say Kemp was a liar?We'll call evidence in rebuttal to prove that he is a liar--that hecouldn't have seen the window. And after Holymead is convicted I'll seeif I cannot get a warrant out for Kemp for perjury."
"And yet Kemp did see Sir Horace that night," said Crewe quietly.
"How do you know? What makes you say that?" The inspector wasunpleasantly startled by Crewe's contention.
"He was able to describe accurately how Sir Horace was dressed--for onething," responded Crewe.
"He might have got that from Seldon's evidence," said InspectorChippenfield thoughtfully. "He may have had some one in court to tell himwhat Seldon said."
"You do not think Lethbridge would be a party to such tactics?" saidCrewe. "No, no. One could tell from the way he examined Seldon and Kempon the point that it was in his brief."
"But the fact that Kemp knew how Sir Horace was dressed doesn't provethat he saw Sir Horace after Holymead left the house," said Rolfe. "Kempmay have seen Sir Horace before Holymead arrived."
"Quite true, Rolfe," said Crewe. "I haven't lost sight of that point. Ithink you will agree with me that there is a bit of a mystery here whichwants clearing up."
They drove back to town, and, in accordance with the arrangement Crewehad made with Mr. Walters before leaving the court, they waited on thatgentleman at his chambers in Lincoln's Inn. There Crewe told him of theresult of their investigations at Riversbrook. Mr. Walters wasprofessionally pleased at the prospect of destroying the evidence ofKemp. He was not a hard-hearted man, and personally he would havepreferred to see Holymead acquitted, if that were possible, but as theprosecuting Counsel he felt a professional satisfaction in being placedin the position to expose perjured evidence.
"Excellent! excellent!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands withgratification as he spoke. "Knowing what we know now, it will be acomparatively easy task to expose the witness Kemp undercross-examination, and show his evidence to be false." Mr. Walters lookedas though he relished the prospect.
It was arranged that Inspector Chippenfield should be called to giveevidence in rebuttal as to the impossibility of seeing the li
brarywindow through the tree, and that an arboriculturist should also becalled. Mr. Walters agreed to have the expert in attendance at the courtin the morning.
But Crewe had something more on his mind, and he waited untilChippenfield and Rolfe had taken their departure in order to put hisviews before the prosecuting counsel. Then he pointed out to him that toprove that Kemp's evidence was false was merely to obtain a negativeresult. What he wanted was a positive result. In other words, he wantedKemp's true story.
"You do not think, then, that Kemp is merely committing perjury in orderto get Holymead off?" asked Walters meditatively. "You think he is hidingsomething?"
Crewe replied, with his faint, inscrutable smile, that he had no doubtwhatever that such was the case. He thought Kemp's true story might beobtained if Walters directed his cross-examination to obtaining the truthinstead of merely to exposing falsehood. It was evident to him that Kemphad come forward in order to save the prisoner. How far was he preparedto go in carrying out that object? When he was made to realise that hisperjury, instead of helping Holymead, had helped to convince the jury ofthe prisoner's guilt, would he tell the true story of how much he knew?
"My own opinion is that he will," continued Crewe. "I studied his facevery closely while he was in the box to-day, and I am convinced he wouldgo far--even to telling the truth--in order to save the only man who wasever kind to him."
Walters was slow in coming round to Crewe's point of view. He had a highopinion of Crewe, for in his association with the case he had realisedhow skilfully Crewe had worked out the solution of the Riversbrookmystery. But he took the view that now the case was before the court itwas entirely a matter for the legal profession to deal with. He pointedout to Crewe the professional view that his own duty did not extendbeyond the exposure of Kemp's perjury. It was not his duty to give Kemp asecond chance--an opportunity to qualify his evidence. He believed thedefence had called Kemp in the belief that his evidence was true, but thedefence must take the consequences if they built up their case onperjured evidence which they had not taken the trouble to sift.
Crewe entered into the professional view sympathetically, but he was notto be turned from his purpose. He felt that too much was at stake, and helifted the discussion out of the atmosphere of professional procedureinto that of their common manhood.
"Walters, I know you are not a vain man," he said, earnestly. "A personaltriumph in this case means even less to you than it does to me. I havebuilt up what I regard as an overwhelming case against Holymead. But itis based on circumstantial evidence, and I would willingly see the wholething toppled over if by that means we could get the final truth. Thisman Kemp knows the truth, and you are in a position in which you can getthe truth from him. It may be the last chance anyone will have of gettingit. Apart from all questions of professional procedure, isn't there anobligation upon you to get at the truth?"
"If you put it that way, I believe there is," replied Walters slowly andmeditatively. There was a pause, and then he spoke with a sudden impulse."Yes, Crewe; you can depend on me. I'll do my best."