The Middle Temple Murder

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The Middle Temple Murder Page 31

by J. S. Fletcher


  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  THE PENITENT WINDOW-CLEANER

  That afternoon Spargo had another of his momentous interviews with hisproprietor and his editor. The first result was that all three drove tothe offices of the legal gentleman who catered for the _Watchman_ whenit wanted any law, and that things were put in shape for an immediateapplication to the Home Office for permission to open the Chamberlaynegrave at Market Milcaster; the second was that on the following morningthere appeared in the _Watchman_ a notice which set half the mouths ofLondon a-watering. That notice; penned by Spargo, ran as follows:--

  "ONE THOUSAND POUNDS REWARD.

  "WHEREAS, on some date within the past twelve months, there wasstolen, abstracted, or taken from the chambers in Fountain Court,Temple, occupied by Mr. Stephen Aylmore, M.P., under the name of Mr.Anderson, a walking-stick, or stout staff, of foreign make, and ofcurious workmanship, which stick was probably used in the murder ofJohn Marbury, or Maitland, in Middle Temple Lane, on the night ofJune 21-22 last, and is now in the hands of the police:

  "This is to give notice that the Proprietor of the _Watchman_newspaper will pay the above-mentioned reward (ONE THOUSAND POUNDSSTERLING) at once and in cash to whosoever will prove that he or shestole, abstracted, or took away the said stick from the said chambers,and will further give full information as to his or her disposal ofthe same, and the Proprietor of the _Watchman_ moreover engages totreat any revelation affecting the said stick in the most strictlyprivate and confidential manner, and to abstain from using it in anyway detrimental to the informant, who should call at the _Watchman_office, and ask for Mr. Frank Spargo at any time between eleven andone o'clock midday, and seven and eleven o'clock in the evening."

  "And you really expect to get some information through that?" askedBreton, who came into Spargo's room about noon on the day on which thepromising announcement came out. "You really do?"

  "Before today is out," said Spargo confidently. "There is more magic ina thousand-pound reward than you fancy, Breton. I'll have the historyof that stick before midnight."

  "How are you to tell that you won't be imposed upon?" suggested Breton."Anybody can say that he or she stole the stick."

  "Whoever comes here with any tale of a stick will have to prove to mehow he or she got the stick and what was done with the stick," saidSpargo. "I haven't the least doubt that that stick was stolen or takenaway from Aylmore's rooms in Fountain Court, and that it got into thehands of--"

  "Yes, of whom?"

  "That's what I want to know in some fashion. I've an idea, already. ButI can afford to wait for definite information. I know one thing--when Iget that information--as I shall--we shall be a long way on the roadtowards establishing Aylmore's innocence."

  Breton made no remark upon this. He was looking at Spargo with ameditative expression.

  "Spargo," he said, suddenly, "do you think you'll get that order forthe opening of the grave at Market Milcaster?"

  "I was talking to the solicitors over the 'phone just now," answeredSpargo. "They've every confidence about it. In fact, it's possible itmay be made this afternoon. In that case, the opening will be madeearly tomorrow morning."

  "Shall you go?" asked Breton.

  "Certainly. And you can go with me, if you like. Better keep in touchwith us all day in case we hear. You ought to be there--you'reconcerned."

  "I should like to go--I will go," said Breton. "And if that graveproves to be--empty--I'll--I'll tell you something."

  Spargo looked up with sharp instinct.

  "You'll tell me something? Something? What?"

  "Never mind--wait until we see if that coffin contains a dead body orlead and sawdust. If there's no body there----"

  At that moment one of the senior messenger boys came in and approachedSpargo. His countenance, usually subdued to an official stolidity,showed signs of something very like excitement.

  "There's a man downstairs asking for you, Mr. Spargo," he said. "He'sbeen hanging about a bit, sir,--seems very shy about coming up. Hewon't say what he wants, and he won't fill up a form, sir. Says all hewants is a word or two with you."

  "Bring him up at once!" commanded Spargo. He turned to Breton when theboy had gone. "There!" he said, laughing. "This is the man about thestick--you see if it isn't."

  "You're such a cock-sure chap, Spargo," said Breton. "You're alwaysgoing on a straight line."

  "Trying to, you mean," retorted Spargo. "Well, stop here, and hear whatthis chap has to say: it'll no doubt be amusing."

  The messenger boy, deeply conscious that he was ushering into Spargo'sroom an individual who might shortly carry away a thousand pounds ofgood _Watchman_ money in his pocket, opened the door and introduced ashy and self-conscious young man, whose nervousness was painfullyapparent to everybody and deeply felt by himself. He halted on thethreshold, looking round the comfortably-furnished room, and at the twowell-dressed young men which it framed as if he feared to enter on ascene of such grandeur.

  "Come in, come in!" said Spargo, rising and pointing to an easy-chairat the side of his desk. "Take a seat. You've called about that reward,of course."

  The man in the chair eyed the two of them cautiously, and not withoutsuspicion. He cleared his throat with a palpable effort.

  "Of course," he said. "It's all on the strict private. Name of EdwardMollison, sir."

  "And where do you live, and what do you do?" asked Spargo.

  "You might put it down Rowton House, Whitechapel," answered EdwardMollison. "Leastways, that's where I generally hang out when I canafford it. And--window-cleaner. Leastways, I was window cleaningwhen--when----"

  "When you came in contact with the stick we've been advertising about,"suggested Spargo. "Just so. Well, Mollison--what about the stick?"

  Mollison looked round at the door, and then at the windows, and then atBreton.

  "There ain't no danger of me being got into trouble along of thatstick?" he asked. "'Cause if there is, I ain't a-going to say aword--no, not for no thousand pounds! Me never having been in notrouble of any sort, guv'nor--though a poor man."

  "Not the slightest danger in the world, Mollison," replied Spargo. "Notthe least. All you've got to do is to tell the truth--and prove that itis the truth. So it was you who took that queer-looking stick out ofMr. Aylmore's rooms in Fountain Court, was it?"

  Mollison appeared to find this direct question soothing to hisfeelings. He smiled weakly.

  "It was cert'nly me as took it, sir," he said. "Not that I meant topinch it--not me! And, as you might say, I didn't take it, when all'ssaid and done. It was--put on me."

  "Put on you, was it?" said Spargo. "That's interesting. And how was itput on you?"

  Mollison grinned again and rubbed his chin.

  "It was this here way," he answered. "You see, I was working at thattime--near on to nine months since, it is--for the Universal DaylightWindow Cleaning Company, and I used to clean a many windows here andthere in the Temple, and them windows at Mr. Aylmore's--only I knewthem as Mr. Anderson's--among 'em. And I was there one morning, earlyit was, when the charwoman she says to me, 'I wish you'd take these twoor three hearthrugs,' she says, 'and give 'em a good beating,' shesays. And me being always a ready one to oblige, 'All right!' I says,and takes 'em. 'Here's something to wallop 'em with,' she says, andpulls that there old stick out of a lot that was in a stand in a cornerof the lobby. And that's how I came to handle it, sir."

  "I see," said Spargo. "A good explanation. And when you had beaten thehearthrugs--what then?"

  Mollison smiled his weak smile again.

  "Well, sir, I looked at that there stick and I see it was somethinguncommon," he answered. "And I thinks--'Well, this Mr. Anderson, he'sgot a bundle of sticks and walking canes up there--hell never miss thisold thing,' I thinks. And so I left it in a corner when I'd donebeating the rugs, and when I went away with my things I took it withme."

  "You took it with you?" said Spargo. "Just so. To keep as a curiosity,I suppose?"

  Molliso
n's weak smile turned to one of cunning. He was obviously losinghis nervousness; the sound of his own voice and the reception of hisnews was imparting confidence to him.

  "Not half!" he answered. "You see, guv'nor, there was an old cove as Iknew in the Temple there as is, or was, 'cause I ain't been theresince, a collector of antikities, like, and I'd sold him a queer oldthing, time and again. And, of course, I had him in my eye when I tookthe stick away--see?"

  "I see. And you took the stick to him?"

  "I took it there and then," replied Mollison. "Pitched him a tale, Idid, about it having been brought from foreign parts by UncleSimon--which I never had no Uncle Simon. Made out it was a rarecuriosity--which it might ha' been one, for all I know."

  "Exactly. And the old cove took a fancy to it, eh?"

  "Bought it there and then," answered Mollison, with something very likea wink.

  "Ah! Bought it there and then. And how much did he give you for it?"asked Spargo. "Something handsome, I hope?"

  "Couple o' quid," replied Mollison. "Me not wishing to part with afamily heirloom for less."

  "Just so. And do you happen to be able to tell me the old cove's nameand his address, Mollison?" asked Spargo.

  "I do, sir. Which they've painted on his entry--the fifth or sixth asyou go down Middle Temple Lane," answered Mollison. "Mr. NicholasCardlestone, first floor up the staircase."

  Spargo rose from his seat without as much as a look at Breton.

  "Come this way, Mollison," he said. "We'll go and see about your littlereward. Excuse me, Breton."

  Breton kicked his heels in solitude for half an hour. Then Spargo cameback.

  "There--that's one matter settled, Breton," he said. "Now for the next.The Home Secretary's made the order for the opening of the grave atMarket Milcaster. I'm going down there at once, and I suppose you'recoming. And remember, if that grave's empty----"

  "If that grave's empty," said Breton, "I'll tell you--a good deal."

 

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