The Simpkins Plot

by George A. Birmingham

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  Meldon rode rapidly westwards out of the town, in the direction ofBallymoy House. He swept round the sharp corner and through theentrance gate at high speed, leaning over sideways at so impressive anangle that the six Callaghan children, who were standing in the porchof the gate lodge, cheered enthusiastically. He disappeared from theirview before their shouts subsided, and rushed up the avenue. Hereached the gravel sweep in front of the house, pressed on both brakeswith all his force, brought the bicycle to an abrupt standstill, anddismounted amid a whirling cloud of dust and small stones. He rang thedoor bell furiously. Finding that the door was not immediately openedhe rang again, and then a third time, leaving less than half a minutebetween the peals. Then a maid, breathless, and in a very bad temper,opened the door and asked him what he wanted.

  "I must see Miss King at once," said Meldon, "on most importantbusiness."

  "Miss King is out, sir," said the maid.

  "Where is she? When did she go out? When will she be home?"

  The servant could have answered two of the three questions withoutdifficulty. She knew when Miss King went out. She also knew where shehad gone to. She could have guessed at the hour of her return; butseeing that Meldon appeared to be in a hurry she took her revenge forthe violent ringing of the bell which had disturbed her.

  "I'll go and enquire, sir," she said.

  She spent nearly ten minutes making enquiries. Then she returned withthe information that Miss King had gone out immediately after luncheon.She had accompanied Sir Gilbert Hawkesby to the river where he intendedto fish.

  "She's gone with Sir Gilbert Hawkesby!" said Meldon.

  "Yes, sir."

  Meldon turned away and walked slowly down the avenue. When he reachedthe tennis court he propped his bicycle up against a tree and took outhis pipe. Miss King's brilliant hammock was still hanging between thetwo trees to which Callaghan had attached it on the morning after herarrival. Meldon lit his pipe and lay down in the hammock. He waspuzzled. Miss King's conduct was unaccountable. The judge's wasstrange. But Meldon held a belief that there is no problem sodifficult but will yield its solution to patient thought and tobacco.He drew in and expelled rich clouds of smoke; and set himself to thinkhard. The judge had recognised the impossibility of living in Doyle'shotel. That was a plain and intelligible point from which to start.He had gone straight to Ballymoy House, knowing that he would find MissKing there. It was difficult to guess where he got his information;but mere speculation on points of that kind was obviously useless. Thejudge did know, and had made up his mind to settle down in Ballymoy asMiss King's guest. Miss King had apparently received him; had evengone out fishing with him. Meldon could find no explanation of thefacts except one, and it was extremely unsatisfactory. The judge musthave imposed himself on Miss King, and induced her to receive him bymeans of threats. Such things have, no doubt, been done occasionally;though rarely by judges. People, especially women with doubtful pasts,are always open to threats of exposure, and may be induced to submit toblackmail. Sir Gilbert Hawkesby was evidently--Meldon had ampleevidence of this--determined to fish. He was, according to Doyle andSabina Gallagher, in a bad temper, and therefore, for the time,unscrupulous. He had spent a most uncomfortable night. He was alsoextremely hungry. It was just possible that he had forced himself uponMiss King. Meldon sighed. This adjustment of the facts was notsatisfactory, but there was no other. He knocked the ashes out of hispipe and stood up. Then he became aware that Callaghan was watchinghim from the far end of the lawn. Meldon walked over to him.

  "If it's news about Mr. Simpkins you want," said Callaghan, "there'snone, for he hasn't been near the place since the last day I wastalking to you."

  "For the immediate present," said Meldon, "I'm not so much interestedin Mr. Simpkins as in another gentleman that came here to-day."

  "Is it him they call Sir Gilbert Hawkesby?"

  "It is," said Meldon, "that very man. Did you see him?"

  "I did. It was half past ten o'clock, or maybe a little later, and theyoung lady was just after coming out with a terrible big lot of papersalong with her. She sat herself down there in the little bed where youwere lying this minute, and 'Good morning to you, Callaghan,' she sayswhen she saw me."

  "What were you doing there?" said Meldon.

  "I was looking at her. Wasn't that what you told me to do? I waswatching out the same as I've been doing this last week, the waySimpkins wouldn't come on her unawares, and me maybe somewhere else andnot seeing him."

  "All right," said Meldon. "I haven't the least doubt that's exactlywhat you were doing. I put the wrong question to you. What I ought tohave asked you was this: What did Miss King think you were doing? Whatwere you pretending to do?"

  "I was making as if I was scuffling the walk with a hoe, and the Lordknows it wants scuffling, for the way the weeds grow on it is whatyou'd hardly believe."

  "Well, and after she said good morning to you what happened?"

  "There wasn't anything happened then," said Callaghan, "unless it wouldbe some talk there was between us about the weather, me saying it wasseasonable for the time of year, and--"

  "You needn't go into details about the weather," said Meldon. "Isuppose, sooner or later, something else happened?"

  "There did then."

  "And what was it?"

  "There came a car up along the avenue with a gentleman on it, and itwas Patsy Flaherty that was driving it; and him lacing the old marewith the whip the same as if the gentleman might be in a hurry."

  "He was in a hurry," said Meldon. "As a matter of fact, he hadn't hada bite to eat since the middle of the day yesterday, and not much then.Any man would be in a hurry if he was as hungry as that judge."

  "That may be. Any way, whatever the reason of it was, he had PatsyFlaherty leathering the mare like the devil. Then, as soon as everMiss King set eyes on him, she was up out of the little bed where shewas, and the papers threw down on the ground, and her running as fastas ever she could leg it across the grass."

  "Poor thing!" said Meldon. "It must have been a shock to her to catchsight of him like that. Where did she run to?"

  "To meet him, of course," said Callaghan.

  "To meet him! Be careful what you're saying now, Callaghan. It's morelikely she ran the other way."

  "Amn't I telling you it was to meet him? And, what's more, you'd sayby the way she was running that she was thinking it a long time tillshe got to him."

  "You're mistaken about that," said Meldon. "Unless she completely losther head through sheer nervousness; it must have been away from him sheran."

  "It was not, but to him. And then as soon as ever he seen her cominghe put out his hand, and gripped a hold of Patsy Flaherty by the arm,and 'Stop, ye divil,' says he. 'Haven't ye had enough of batteringthat old screw for one day?' says he, 'and don't you see the young ladythat's coming across the lawn there and her lepping like atwo-year-old, so as the sight of her would make you supple and youcrippled with the rheumatics?'"

  "I know now," said Meldon, "that you're telling me a pack of lies fromstart to finish. There's not a judge in the world would say the wordsyou're putting into that one's mouth. It isn't the way judges talk,nor the least like it. You oughtn't to try and invent things,Callaghan. You can't do it. You haven't got any faculty for dramaticprobability in characterisation. That story of yours wouldn't go downwith Major Kent, and what's the good of your offering it to me? Youmay not know it, Callaghan, but I'm something of an expert in textualcriticism. I can separate up the Book of Genesis into its componentdocuments as well as any man living, and I'm quite capable of tellingby internal evidence, that is to say by considerations of style andmatter, whether any particular verse is written by the same man thatwrote the verse before. Now in both respects, matter and style, Irecognise in your story the strongest possible evidence of fabrication.Any literary critic who knew his business would agree with me. In thefirst place, Miss King wouldn't
have run to meet that judge. She'dhave run away from him if she ran at all."

  "It was to him she did run," said Callaghan, "and what's more--"

  "In the second place," said Meldon, "the judge wouldn't have spokenthat way to Patsy Flaherty. If he'd wanted to have the car stoppedhe'd have said, 'Pull up for a minute, my good man,' or words to thateffect."

  "Well," said Callaghan, "it might have been that he said. How was I tohear what passed between them when I was half ways across the lawn atthe time scuffling the path with my hoe?"

  "And if you couldn't hear," said Meldon, "what on earth do you mean bypretending to repeat to me the exact words the judge used?"

  "I told you the best I could. If them wasn't the words he said helooked mighty like as if they were. Any way Patsy Flaherty gave overlambasting the old mare, and she stood still, the way you'd think shewas glad of the rest. Then the gentleman took a lep down off the car,and away with him to meet the lady."

  "Well?"

  "She was mighty glad to see him," said Callaghan, "for she kissed himtwice."

  "Nonsense," said Meldon, "she couldn't possibly have kissed him. And,listen to me now, Callaghan. You set up to be mighty particular aboutmoral conduct, and the day I first talked to you about Miss King yousaid a lot about disliking any kind of impropriety. But you don'thesitate to tell me a grossly scandalous story about a lady who neverdid you any harm. I don't think you ought to do it."

  "There was no impropriety of conduct about it."

  "There was. How can you possibly say there wasn't? What could be moreimproper, judged by any conceivable standard of conduct, than for ayoung lady to go rushing and tearing across a lawn--and I declare Idon't like to repeat the thing you said."

  "There was no impropriety of conduct," said Callaghan, "because thegentleman was her uncle."

  "Do you mean to tell me," said Meldon, "that Sir Gilbert Hawkesby isMiss King's uncle?"

  "He is. I might have guessed it when I saw her kissing him. And Ipartly did guess there must be something of the sort in it; for I havea respect for Miss King, and I know well that she's not the sort thatwould do the like of that without the gentleman would be a near friendof her own. But the way I'd make sure I went and asked the young ladywithin in the kitchen."

  "Do you mean the cook?"

  "I do," said Callaghan. "It might have been an hour after or maybemore when I was taking in a dish of peas for the dinner. 'Miss Hodge,'says I, speaking respectful--for the girls that does be in it thinks alot of themselves on account of their coming over here all the way fromLondon--'Miss Hodge,' says I, 'that's a mighty fine gentleman that'scome to see the mistress to-day.' 'The devil a much credit it is toyou to find that out,' says she, 'for--'"

  "She didn't," said Meldon. "Nobody of the name of Hodge who came fromLondon would or could say 'the devil a much credit' under anycircumstances."

  "It's what she meant," said Callaghan, "and what's more, she told meabout his being a high-up gentleman, and a judge, no less. 'Do youtell me that now?' says I. 'I'm glad of it, for, if you believe me,it's the first time ever I set eyes on one of them.' 'You'll seeplenty of him,' says she, 'for he'll be stopping here along with MissKing till he's done fishing.' 'Will he then? And what could he bedoing that for?' 'It's on account of the way them murdering villainsdown in the hotel--'"

  "I wish," said Meldon, "that you wouldn't try to repeat the cook'sexact words. You're getting them wrong every time and making it moreand more difficult for me to believe your story."

  "It's the truth I'm telling you whether or no," said Callaghan, "andwhat she said was that he was coming up here to stay on account of theway they had him poisoned down in the hotel, which is what I was sorryto hear her say, for Sabina Gallagher's a friend of my own, her sisterbeing married to my wife's cousin, and I wouldn't like to hear of thegirl getting a bad name. Any way, 'it's that way it is,' said MissHodge, 'and where would he come to if it wasn't--?'"

  "You're at it again," said Meldon. "Why can't you tell what you haveto tell without spoiling what might be a good story by insisting onmaking the cook talk in that unnatural way?"

  "What she said was," said Callaghan, "that it was no more than rightand proper that he'd come to the house of his own niece."

  "You're absolutely certain she said that?"

  "I am; for it wasn't once nor twice she said it, but more; like as ifshe was proud of being along with a lady that was niece to a judge."

  "If the facts are as you state them," said Meldon, "a good many thingsbecome clear to me, and the general situation is by no means sodesperate as I was inclined to think."

  "Would you say now, your reverence," said Callaghan, "that it's truewhat she was after telling me about Sabina doing the best she could topoison the judge with paraffin oil?"

  "There's a foundation of truth in the statement," said Meldon, "but ithas been very much exaggerated."

  "It's what I didn't think Sabina would do, for she was always a quiet,decent girl, with no harm in her."

  "Don't run away with the idea that Sabina has done anything wrong,"said Meldon, "for she hasn't. I can't stop here to explain the wholecircumstances to you, for I have other things to do, and in any caseyou wouldn't be able to understand. But I would like to fix this factfirmly in your mind: Sabina is in no way to blame."

  "Is there any fear now," said Callaghan, "that she might be took by thepolice?"

  "Not the slightest."

  "Him being a judge and all?"

  "That doesn't make the least difference. If Sabina had poisonedanybody--she hasn't, but if she had--or even if she'd tried to, she'dbe had up for it whether her victim was a judge or a corner boy. It'sworse, I believe, if you poison the king; but short of that it's thesame thing exactly. The law doesn't set a bit more value on a judge'slife than on any one else's, and Sir Gilbert Hawkesby would be thefirst man to tell you that. You can ask him if you like. But thepoint isn't really of any importance, because, as I said before, Sabinahas neither poisoned nor tried to poison anybody. She has simply doneher duty."