XV
THE PERSON UNKNOWN
The intruder was a shaggy elderly man, of so cadaverous an aspect thathis face alone cried for his death-bed; and his gaunt frame took up thecry, as it swayed upon the threshold in dressing-gown and bedroomslippers that Toye instantly recognized as belonging to Cazalet. The manhad a shock of almost white hair, and a less gray beard clipped roughlyto a point. An unwholesome pallor marked the fallen features; and theenvenomed eyes burned low in their sockets, as they dealt with Blanchebut fastened on Hilton Toye.
"What do _you_ know about Henry Craven's murderer?" he demanded in avoice between a croak and a crow. "Have they run in some other poordevil, or were you talking about me? If so, I'll start a libel action,and call Cazalet and that lady as witnesses!"
"What do you know about Henry Craven's murderer?"]
"This is Scruton," explained Cazalet, "who was only liberated thisevening after being detained a week on a charge that ought never to havebeen brought, as I've told you both all along." Scruton thanked him witha bitter laugh. "I've brought him here," concluded Cazalet, "because Idon't think he's fit enough to be about alone."
"Nice of him, isn't it?" said Scruton bitterly. "I'm so fit that theywanted to keep me somewhere else longer than they'd any right; that maybe why they lost no time in getting hold of me again. Nice, considerate,kindly country! Ten years isn't long enough to have you as a dishonoredguest. 'Won't you come back for another week, and see if we can'tarrange a nice little sudden death and burial for you?' But theycouldn't you see, blast 'em!"
He subsided into the best chair in the room, which Blanche had wheeledup behind him; a moment later he looked round, thanked her curtly, andlay back with closed eyes until suddenly he opened them on Cazalet.
"And what was that _you_ were saying--that about traveling across Europeand being at Uplands that night? I thought you came round by sea? Andwhat night do you mean?"
"The night it all happened," said Cazalet steadily.
"You mean the night some person unknown knocked Craven on the head?"
"Yes."
The sick man threw himself forward in the chair. "You never told methis!" he cried suspiciously; both the voice and the man seemedstronger.
"There was no point in telling you."
"Did you see the person?"
"Yes."
"Then he isn't unknown to you?"
"I didn't see him well."
Scruton looked sharply at the two mute listeners. They were very intent,indeed. "Who are these people, Cazalet? No! I know one of 'em," heanswered himself in the next breath. "It's Blanche Macnair, isn't it? Ithought at first it must be a younger sister grown up like her. You'llforgive prison manners, Miss Macnair, if that's still your name. Youlook a woman to trust--if there is one--and you gave me your chair.Anyhow, you've been in for a penny and you can stay in for a pound, asfar as I care! But who's your Amer'can friend, Cazalet?"
"Mr. Hilton Toye, who spotted that I'd been all the way to Uplands andback when I claimed to have been in Rome!"
There was a touch of Scruton's bitterness in Cazalet's voice; and bysome subtle process it had a distinctly mollifying effect on the reallyembittered man.
"What on earth were you doing at Uplands?" he asked, in a kind ofconfidential bewilderment.
"I went down to see a man."
Toye himself could not have cut and measured more deliberatemonosyllables.
"Craven?" suggested Scruton.
"No; a man I expected to find at Craven's."
"The writer of the letter you found at Cook's office in Naples thenight you landed there, I guess!"
It really was Toye this time, and there was no guesswork in his tone.Obviously he was speaking by his little book, though he had not got itout again.
"How do you know I went to Cook's?"
"I know every step you took between the _Kaiser Fritz_ and Charing Crossand Charing Cross and the _Kaiser Fritz_!"
Scruton listened to this interchange with keen attention, hanging oneach man's lips with his sunken eyes; both took it calmly, but Scruton'ssurprise was not hidden by a sardonic grin.
"You've evidently had a stern chase with a Yankee clipper!" said he. "Ifhe's right about the letter, Cazalet, I should say so; presumably itwasn't from Craven himself?"
"No."
"Yet it brought you across Europe to Craven's house?"
"Well--to the back of his house! I expected to meet my man on theriver."
"Was that how you missed him more or less?"
"I suppose it was."
Scruton ruminated a little, broke into his offensive laugh, and checkedit instantly of his own accord. "This is really interesting," hecroaked. "You get to London--at what time was it?"
"Nominally three twenty-five; but the train ran thirteen minutes late,"said Hilton Toye.
"And you're on the river by what time?" Scruton asked Cazalet.
"I walked over Hungerford Bridge, took the first train to Surbiton, gota boat there, and just dropped down with the stream. I don't supposethe whole thing took me very much more than an hour."
"Aren't you forgetting something?" said Toye.
"Yes, I was. It was I who telephoned to the house and found that Cravenwas out motoring; so there was no hurry."
"Yet you weren't going to see Henry Craven?" murmured Toye.
Cazalet did not answer. His last words had come in a characteristicburst; now he had his mouth shut tight, and his eyes were fast toScruton. He might have been in the witness-box already, a doomed wretchcynically supposed to be giving evidence on his own behalf, but actuallyonly baring his neck by inches to the rope, under the joint persuasionof judge and counsel. But he had one friend by him still, one who hadedged a little nearer in the pause.
"But you did see the man you went to see?" said Scruton.
Cazalet paused. "I don't know. Eventually somebody brushed past me inthe dark. I did think then--but I can't swear to him even now!"
"Tell us about it."
"Do you mean that, Scruton? Do you insist on hearing all that happened?I'm not asking Toye; he can do what he likes. But you, Scruton--you'vebeen through a lot, you know--you ought to have stopped in bed--do youreally want this on top of all?"
"Go ahead," said Scruton. "I'll have a drink when you've done; somebodygive me a cigarette meanwhile."
Cazalet supplied the cigarette, struck the match, and held it withunfaltering hand. The two men's eyes met strangely across the flame.
"I'll tell you all exactly what happened; you can believe me or not asyou like. You won't forget that I knew every inch of the ground--exceptone altered bit that explained itself." Cazalet turned to Blanche with asignificant look, but she only drew an inch nearer still. "Well, it wasin the little creek, where the boat-house is, that I waited for my man.He never came--by the river. I heard the motor, but it wasn't HenryCraven that I wanted to see, but the man who was coming to see him.Eventually I thought I must have made a mistake, or he might havechanged his mind and come by road. The dressing-gong had gone; at leastI supposed it was that by the time. It was almost quite dark, and Ilanded and went up the path past the back premises to the front of thehouse. So far I hadn't seen a soul, or been seen by one, evidently; butthe French windows were open in what used to be my father's library, theroom was all lit up, and just as I got there a man ran out into theflood of light and--"
"I thought you said he brushed by you in the dark?" interrupted Toye.
"I was in the dark; so was he in another second; and no power on earthwould induce me to swear to him. Do you want to hear the rest, Scruton,or are you another unbeliever?"
"I want to hear every word--more than ever!"
Toye cocked his head at both question and answer, but inclined itquickly as Cazalet turned to him before proceeding.
"I went in and found Henry Craven lying in his blood. That's gospel--itwas so I found him--lying just where he had fallen in a heap out of theleather chair at his desk. The top right-hand drawer of his desk wasopen,
the key in it and the rest of the bunch still swinging! A revolverlay as it had dropped upon the desk--it had upset the ink--and therewere cartridges lying loose in the open drawer, and the revolver wasloaded. I swept it back into the drawer, turned the key and removed itwith the bunch. But there was something else on the desk--thatsilver-mounted truncheon--and a man's cap was lying on the floor. Ipicked them both up. My first instinct, I confess it, was to removeevery sign of manslaughter and to leave the scene to be reconstructedinto one of accident--seizure--anything but what it was!"
He paused as if waiting for a question. None was asked. Toye's mouthmight have been sewn up, his eyes were like hatpins driven into hishead. The other two simply stared.
"It was a mad idea, but I had gone mad," continued Cazalet. "I hadhated the victim alive, and it couldn't change me that he was dead ordying; _that_ didn't make him a white man, and neither did itnecessarily blacken the poor devil who had probably suffered from himlike the rest of us and only struck him down in self-defense. Therevolver on the desk made that pretty plain. It was out of the way, butnow I saw blood all over the desk as well; it was soaking into theblotter, and it knocked the bottom out of my idea. What was to be done?I had meddled already; how could I give the alarm without giving myselfaway to that extent, and God knows how much further? The most awfulmoment of the lot came as I hesitated--the dinner-gong went off in thehall outside the door! I remember watching the thing on the floor tosee if it would move.
"Then I lost my head--absolutely. I turned the key in the door, to givemyself a few seconds' grace or start; it reminded me of the keys in myhands. One of them was one of those little round bramah keys. It seemedfamiliar to me even after so many years. I looked up, and there was myfather's Michelangelo closet, with its little round bramah keyhole. Iopened it as the outer door was knocked at and then tried. But my madinstinct of altering every possible appearance, to mislead the police,stuck to me to the last. And I took the man's watch and chain into thecloset with me, as well as the cap and truncheon that I had picked upbefore.
"I don't know how long I was above ground, so to speak, but one of myfather's objects had been to make his retreat sound-tight, and I couldscarcely hear what was going on in the room. That encouraged me; and twoof you don't need telling how I got out through the foundations, becauseyou know all about the hole I made myself as a boy in the floor underthe oilcloth. It took some finding with single matches; but the fear ofyour neck gives you eyes in your finger-ends, and gimlets, too, by Jove!The worst part was getting out at the other end, into the cellars; therewere heaps of empty bottles to move, one by one, before there was roomto open the manhole door and to squirm out over the slab; and I thoughtthey rang like a peal of bells, but I put them all back again, andapparently ... nobody overheard in the scullery.
"The big dog barked at me like blazes--he did again the other day--butnobody seemed to hear him either. I got to my boat, tipped a fellow onthe towing path to take it back and pay for it--why haven't the policegot hold of him?--and ran down to the bridge over the weir. I stopped abig car with a smart shaver smoking his pipe at the wheel. I should havethought he'd have come forward for the reward that was put up; but Ipretended I was late for dinner I had in town, and I let him drop me atthe Grand Hotel. He cost me a fiver, but I had on a waistcoat lined withnotes, and I'd more than five minutes in hand at Charing Cross. If youwant to know, it was the time in hand that gave me the whole idea ofdoubling back to Genoa; I must have been half-way up to town before Ithought of it!"
He had told the whole thing as he always could tell an actualexperience; that was one reason why it rang so true to one listener atevery point. But the sick man's sunken eyes had advanced from theirsockets in cumulative amazement. And Hilton Toye laughed shortly whenthe end was reached.
"You figure some on our credulity!" was his first comment.
"I don't figure on anything from you, Toye, except a pair of handcuffsas a first instalment!"
Toye rose in prompt acceptance of the challenge. "Seriously, Cazalet,you ask us to believe that you did all this to screen a man you didn'thave time to recognize?"
"I've told you the facts."
"Well, I guess you'd better tell them to the police." Toye took his hatand stick. Scruton was struggling from his chair. Blanche stoodpetrified, a dove under a serpent's spell, as Toye made her a sardonicbow from the landing door. "You broke your side of the contract, MissBlanche! I guess it's up to me to complete."
"Wait!"
It was Scruton's raven croak; he had tottered to his feet.
"Sure," said Toye, "if you've anything you want to say as an interestedparty."
"Only this--he's told the truth!"
"Well, can he prove it?"
"I don't know," said Scruton. "But I can!"
"You?" Blanche chimed in there.
"Yes, I'd like that drink first, if you don't mind, Cazalet." It wasBlanche who got it for him, in an instant. "Thank you! I'd say more ifmy blessing was worth having--but here's something that is. Listen tothis, you American gentleman: I was the man who wrote to him in Naples.Leave it at that a minute; it was my second letter to him; the first wasto Australia, in answer to one from him. It was the full history of mydownfall. I got a warder to smuggle it out. That letter was my onechance."
"I know it by heart," said Cazalet. "It was that and nothing else thatmade me leave before the shearing."
"To meet me when I came out!" Scruton explained in a hoarse whisper."To--to keep me from going straight to that man, as I'd told him Ishould in my first letter! But you can't hit these things off to the dayor the week; he'd told me where to write to him on his voyage, and Iwrote to Naples, but that letter did not get smuggled out. My warderfriend had got the sack. I had to put what I'd got to say so that youcould read it two ways. So I told you, Cazalet, I was going straight upthe river for a row--and you can pronounce that two ways. And I said Ihoped I shouldn't break a scull--but there's another way of spellingthat, and it was the other way I meant!" He chuckled grimly. "I wantedyou to lie low and let _me_ lie low if that happened. I wanted just oneman in the world to know I'd done it. But that's how we came to misseach other, for you timed it to a tick, if you hadn't misread me aboutthe river."
He drank again, stood straighter, and found a fuller voice.
"Yet I never meant to do it unless he made me, and at the back of mybrain I never thought he would. I thought he'd do something for me,after all he'd done before! Shall I tell you what he did?"
"Got out his revolver!" cried Cazalet in a voice that was his ownjustification as well.
"Pretending it was going to be his check-book!" said Scruton throughhis teeth. "But I heard him trying to cock it inside his drawer. Therewas his special constable's truncheon hanging on the wall--silvermounted, for all the world to know how he'd stood up for law and orderin the sight of men! I tell you it was a joy to feel the weight of thattruncheon, and to see the hero of Trafalgar Square fumbling with a thinghe didn't understand! I hit him as hard as God would let me--and therest you know--except that I nearly did trip over the man who swore itwas broad daylight at the time!"
He tottered to the folding-doors, and stood there a moment, pointing toCazalet with a hand that twitched as terribly as his dreadful face.
"No--the rest you did--the rest you did to save what wasn't worthsaving! But--I think--I'll hold out long enough to thank you--just alittle!" He was gone with a gibbering smile.
Cazalet turned straight to Toye at the other door. "Well? Aren't yougoing, too? You were near enough, you see! I'm an accessory allright"--he dropped his voice--"but I'd be principal if I could insteadof _him_!"
But Toye had come back into the room, twinkling with triumph, evenrubbing his hands. "You didn't see? You didn't see? I never meant to goat all; it was a bit of bluff to make him own up, and it did, too,bully!"
The couple gasped.
"You mean to tell me," cried Cazalet, "that you believed my story allthe time?"
"Why, I didn't have a moment's dou
bt about it!"
Cazalet drew away from the chuckling creature and his crafty glee. ButBlanche came forward and held out her hand.
"Will you forgive me, Mr. Toye?"
"Sure, if I had anything to forgive. It's the other way around, I guess,and about time I did something to help." He edged up to thefolding-door. "This is a two-man job, Cazalet, the way I make it out.Guess it's my watch on deck!"
"The other's the way to the police station," said Cazalet densely.
Toye turned solemn on the word. "It's the way to hell, if Miss Blanchewill forgive me! This is more like the other place, thanks to you folks.Guess I'll leave the angels in charge!"
Angelic or not, the pair were alone at last; and through the doors theyheard a quavering croak of welcome to the rather human god from theAmerican machine.
"I'm afraid he'll never go back with you to the bush," whisperedBlanche.
"Scruton?"
"Yes."
"I'm afraid, too. But I wanted to take somebody else out, too. I wastrying to say so over a week ago, when we were talking about old VenusPotts. Blanchie, will you come?"
THE END
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