CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE BLANK PAST
Jessie Aylmore came forward to meet Spargo with ready confidence; theelder girl hung back diffidently.
"May we speak to you?" said Jessie. "We have come on purpose to speakto you. Evelyn didn't want to come, but I made her come."
Spargo shook hands silently with Evelyn Aylmore and motioned them bothto follow him. He took them straight upstairs to his room and bestowedthem in his easiest chairs before he addressed them.
"I've only just got back to town," he said abruptly. "I was sorry tohear the news about your father. That's what's brought you here, ofcourse. But--I'm afraid I can't do much."
"I told you that we had no right to trouble Mr. Spargo, Jessie," saidEvelyn Aylmore. "What can he do to help us?"
Jessie shook her head impatiently.
"The _Watchman's_ about the most powerful paper in London, isn't it?"she said. "And isn't Mr. Spargo writing all these articles about theMarbury case? Mr. Spargo, you must help us!"
Spargo sat down at his desk and began turning over the letters andpapers which had accumulated during his absence.
"To be absolutely frank with you," he said, presently, "I don't see howanybody's going to help, so long as your father keeps up that mysteryabout the past."
"That," said Evelyn, quietly, "is exactly what Ronald says, Jessie. Butwe can't make our father speak, Mr. Spargo. That he is as innocent aswe are of this terrible crime we are certain, and we don't know why hewouldn't answer the questions put to him at the inquest. And--we knowno more than you know or anyone knows, and though I have begged myfather to speak, he won't say a word. We saw his danger: Ronald--Mr.Breton--told us, and we implored him to tell everything he knew aboutMr. Marbury. But so far he has simply laughed at the idea that he hadanything to do with the murder, or could be arrested for it, andnow----"
"And now he's locked up," said Spargo in his usual matter-of-factfashion. "Well, there are people who have to be saved from themselves,you know. Perhaps you'll have to save your father from the consequencesof his own--shall we say obstinacy? Now, look here, between ourselves,how much do you know about your father's--past?"
The two sisters looked at each other and then at Spargo.
"Nothing," said the elder.
"Absolutely nothing!" said the younger.
"Answer a few plain questions," said Spargo. "I'm not going to printyour replies, nor make use of them in any way: I'm only asking thequestions with a desire to help you. Have you any relations inEngland?"
"None that we know of," replied Evelyn.
"Nobody you could go to for information about the past?" asked Spargo.
"No--nobody!"
Spargo drummed his fingers on his blotting-pad. He was thinking hard.
"How old is your father?" he asked suddenly.
"He was fifty-nine a few weeks ago," answered Evelyn.
"And how old are you, and how old is your sister?" demanded Spargo.
"I am twenty, and Jessie is nearly nineteen."
"Where were you born?"
"Both of us at San Gregorio, which is in the San Jose province ofArgentina, north of Monte Video."
"Your father was in business there?"
"He was in business in the export trade, Mr. Spargo. There's no secretabout that. He exported all sorts of things to England and toFrance--skins, hides, wools, dried salts, fruit. That's how he made hismoney."
"You don't know how long he'd been there when you were born?"
"No."
"Was he married when he went out there?"
"No, he wasn't. We do know that. He's told us the circumstances of hismarriage, because they were romantic. When he sailed from England toBuenos Ayres, he met on the steamer a young lady who, he said, was likehimself, relationless and nearly friendless. She was going out toArgentina as a governess. She and my father fell in love with eachother, and they were married in Buenos Ayres soon after the steamerarrived."
"And your mother is dead?"
"My mother died before we came to England. I was eight years old, andJessie six, then."
"And you came to England--how long after that?"
"Two years."
"So that you've been in England ten years. And you know nothingwhatever of your father's past beyond what you've told me?"
"Nothing--absolutely nothing."
"Never heard him talk of--you see, according to your account, yourfather was a man of getting on to forty when he went out to Argentina.He must have had a career of some sort in this country. Have you neverheard him speak of his boyhood? Did he never talk of old times, or thatsort of thing?"
"I never remember hearing my father speak of any period antecedent tohis marriage," replied Evelyn.
"I once asked him a question about his childhood." said Jessie. "Heanswered that his early days had not been very happy ones, and that hehad done his best to forget them. So I never asked him anything again."
"So that it really comes to this," remarked Spargo. "You know nothingwhatever about your father, his family, his fortunes, his life, beyondwhat you yourselves have observed since you were able to observe?That's about it, isn't it?"
"I should say that that is exactly it," answered Evelyn.
"Just so," said Spargo. "And therefore, as I told your sister the otherday, the public will say that your father has some dark secret behindhim, and that Marbury had possession of it, and that your father killedhim in order to silence him. That isn't my view. I not only believeyour father to be absolutely innocent, but I believe that he knows nomore than a child unborn of Marbury's murder, and I'm doing my best tofind out who that murderer was. By the by, since you'll see all aboutit in tomorrow morning's _Watchman_, I may as well tell you that I'vefound out who Marbury really was. He----"
At this moment Spargo's door was opened and in walked Ronald Breton. Heshook his head at sight of the two sisters.
"I thought I should find you here," he said. "Jessie said she wascoming to see you, Spargo. I don't know what good you can do--I don'tsee what good the most powerful newspaper in the world can do. MyGod!--everything's about as black as ever it can be. Mr. Aylmore--I'vejust come away from him; his solicitor, Stratton, and I have been withhim for an hour--is obstinate as ever--he will not tell more than hehas told. Whatever good can you do, Spargo, when he won't speak aboutthat knowledge of Marbury which he must have?"
"Oh, well!" said Spargo. "Perhaps we can give him some informationabout Marbury. Mr. Aylmore has forgotten that it's not such a difficultthing to rake up the past as he seems to think it is. For example, as Iwas just telling these young ladies, I myself have discovered whoMarbury really was."
Breton started.
"You have? Without doubt?" he exclaimed.
"Without reasonable doubt. Marbury was an ex-convict."
Spargo watched the effect of this sudden announcement. The two girlsshowed no sign of astonishment or of unusual curiosity; they receivedthe news with as much unconcern as if Spargo had told them that Marburywas a famous musician. But Ronald Breton started, and it seemed toSpargo that he saw a sense of suspicion dawn in his eyes.
"Marbury--an ex-convict!" he exclaimed. "You mean that?"
"Read your _Watchman_ in the morning," said Spargo. "You'll find thewhole story there--I'm going to write it tonight when you people havegone. It'll make good reading."
Evelyn and Jessie Aylmore took Spargo's hint and went away, Spargoseeing them to the door with another assurance of his belief in theirfather's innocence and his determination to hunt down the realcriminal. Ronald Breton went down with them to the street and saw theminto a cab, but in another minute he was back in Spargo's room asSpargo had expected. He shut the door carefully behind him and turnedto Spargo with an eager face.
"I say, Spargo, is that really so?" he asked. "About Marbury being anex-convict?"
"That's so, Breton. I've no more doubt about it than I have that I seeyou. Marbury was in reality one John Maitland, a bank manager, ofMarket Milcaster, who got ten
years' penal servitude in 1891 forembezzlement."
"In 1891? Why--that's just about the time that Aylmore says he knewhim!"
"Exactly. And--it just strikes me," said Spargo, sitting down at hisdesk and making a hurried note, "it just strikes me--didn't Aylmore sayhe knew Marbury in London?"
"Certainly," replied Breton. "In London."
"Um!" mused Spargo. "That's queer, because Maitland had never been inLondon up to the time of his going to Dartmoor, whatever he may havedone when he came out of Dartmoor, and, of course, Aylmore had gone toSouth America long before that. Look here, Breton," he continued,aloud, "have you access to Aylmore? Will you, can you, see him beforehe's brought up at Bow Street tomorrow?"
"Yes," answered Breton. "I can see him with his solicitor."
"Then listen," said Spargo. "Tomorrow morning you'll find the wholestory of how I proved Marbury's identity with Maitland in the_Watchman_. Read it as early as you can; get an interview with Aylmoreas early as you can; make him read it, every word, before he's broughtup. Beg him if he values his own safety and his daughters' peace ofmind to throw away all that foolish reserve, and to tell all he knowsabout Maitland twenty years ago. He should have done that at first.Why, I was asking his daughters some questions before you came in--theyknow absolutely nothing of their father's history previous to the timewhen they began to understand things! Don't you see that Aylmore'scareer, previous to his return to England, is a blank past!"
"I know--I know!" said Breton. "Yes--although I've gone there a greatdeal, I never heard Aylmore speak of anything earlier than hisArgentine experiences. And yet, he must have been getting on when hewent out there."
"Thirty-seven or eight, at least," remarked Spargo. "Well, Aylmore'smore or less of a public man, and no public man can keep his lifehidden nowadays. By the by, how did you get to know the Aylmores?"
"My guardian, Mr. Elphick, and I met them in Switzerland," answeredBreton. "We kept up the acquaintance after our return."
"Mr. Elphick still interesting himself in the Marbury case?" askedSpargo.
"Very much so. And so is old Cardlestone, at the foot of whose stairsthe thing came off. I dined with them last night and they talked oflittle else," said Breton.
"And their theory--"
"Oh, still the murder for the sake of robbery!" replied Breton. "OldCardlestone is furious that such a thing could have happened at hisvery door. He says that there ought to be a thorough enquiry into everytenant of the Temple."
"Longish business that," observed Spargo. "Well, run away now,Breton--I must write."
"Shall you be at Bow Street tomorrow morning?" asked Breton as he movedto the door. "It's to be at ten-thirty."
"No, I shan't!" replied Spargo. "It'll only be a remand, and I knowalready just as much as I should hear there. I've got something muchmore important to do. But you'll remember what I asked of you--getAylmore to read my story in the _Watchman_, and beg him to speak outand tell all he knows--all!"
And when Breton had gone, Spargo again murmured those last words: "Allhe knows--all!"
The Middle Temple Murder Page 22
