Detection by Gaslight

by Unknown

  “‘I laughed and said that if he held one for £5000 it would make no difference, as from what I had heard from the other fellows, Lord Arthur Skelmerton must be about stumped. Lavender seemed terribly put out at this, and swore he would get that £500 out of Lord Arthur, if no one else got another penny from him.

  “‘It’s the only money I’ve made to-day,’ he says to me. ‘I mean to get it.’

  “‘You won’t,’ I says.

  “‘I will,’ he says.

  “‘You will have to look pretty sharp about it then,’ I says, ‘for every one will be wanting to get something, and first come first served.’

  “‘Oh! He’ll serve me right enough, never you mind!’ says Lavender to me with a laugh. ‘If he don’t pay up willingly, I’ve got that in my pocket which will make him sit up and open my lady’s eyes and Sir John Etty’s too about their precious noble lord.’

  “‘Then he seemed to think he had gone too far, and wouldn’t say anything more to me about that affair. I saw him on the course the next day. I asked him if he had got his £500. He said: ”No, but I shall get it to-day.“’

  “Lord Arthur Skelmerton, after having given his own evidence, had left the court; it was therefore impossible to know how he would take this account, which threw so serious a light upon an association with the dead man, of which he himself had said nothing.

  “Nothing could shake James Terry’s account of the facts he had placed before the jury, and when the police informed the coroner that they proposed to place George Higgins himself in the witness-box, as his evidence would prove, as it were, a complement and corollary of that of Terry, the jury very eagerly assented.

  “If James Terry, the bookmaker, loud, florid, vulgar, was an unprepossessing individual, certainly George Higgins, who was still under the accusation of murder, was ten thousand times more so.

  “None too clean, slouchy, obsequious yet insolent, he was the very personification of the cad who haunts the racecourse and who lives not so much by his own wits as by the lack of them in others. He described himself as a turf commission agent, whatever that may be.

  “He stated that at about six o’clock on the Friday afternoon, when the racecourse was still full of people, all hurrying after the day’s excitements, he himself happened to be standing close to the hedge which marks the boundary of Lord Arthur Skelmerton’s grounds. There is a pavilion there at the end of the garden, he explained, on slightly elevated ground, and he could hear and see a group of ladies and gentlemen having tea. Some steps lead down a little to the left of the garden on to the course, and presently he noticed at the bottom of these steps Lord Arthur Skelmerton and Charles Lavender standing talking together. He knew both gentlemen by sight, but he could not see them very well as they were both partly hidden by the hedge. He was quite sure that the gentlemen had not seen him, and he could not help overhearing some of their conversation.

  “‘That’s my last word, Lavender,’ Lord Arthur was saying very quietly. ‘I haven’t got the money and I can’t pay you now. You’ll have to wait.’

  “‘Wait? I can’t wait,’ said old Lavender in reply. ‘I’ve got my engagements to meet, same as you. I’m not going to risk being posted up as a defaulter while you hold £500 of my money. You’d better give it me now or——’

  “But Lord Arthur interrupted him very quietly, and said:

  “‘Yes, my good man.... or?’

  “‘Or I’ll let Sir John have a good look at that little bill I had of yours a couple of years ago. If you’ll remember, my lord, it has got at the bottom of it Sir John’s signature in your handwriting. Perhaps Sir John, or perhaps my lady, would pay me something for that little bill. If not, the police can have a squint at it. I’ve held my tongue long enough, and——’

  “‘Look here, Lavender,’ said Lord Arthur, ‘do you know what this little game of yours is called in law?’

  “‘Yes, and I don’t care’ says Lavender. ‘If I don’t have that £500 I am a ruined man. If you ruin me I’ll do for you, and we shall be quits. That’s my last word.’

  “He was talking very loudly, and I thought some of Lord Arthur’s friends up in the pavilion must have heard. He thought so, too, I think, for he said quickly:

  “‘If you don’t hold your confounded tongue, I’ll give you in charge for blackmail this instant.’

  “‘You wouldn’t dare,’ says Lavender, and he began to laugh. But just then a lady from the top of the steps said: ‘Your tea is getting cold,’ and Lord Arthur turned to go; but just before he went Lavender says to him: ‘I’ll come back to-night. You’ll have the money then.’

  “George Higgins, it appears, after he had heard this interesting conversation, pondered as to whether he could not turn what he knew into some sort of profit. Being a gentleman who lives entirely by his wits, this type of knowledge forms his chief source of income. As a preliminary to future moves, he decided not to lose sight of Lavender for the rest of the day.

  “‘Lavender went and had dinner at The Black Swan,’ explained Mr. George Higgins, ‘and I, after I had had a bite myself, waited outside till I saw him come out. At about ten o’clock I was rewarded for my trouble. He told the hall porter to get him a fly and he jumped into it. I could not hear what direction he gave the driver, but the fly certainly drove off towards the racecourse.

  “‘Now, I was interested in this little affair,’ continued the witness, ‘and I couldn’t afford a fly. I started to run. Of course, I couldn’t keep up with it, but I thought I knew which way my gentleman had gone. I made straight for the racecourse, and for the hedge at the bottom of Lord Arthur Skelmerton’s grounds.

  “‘It was rather a dark night and there was a slight drizzle. I couldn’t see more than about a hundred yards before me. All at once it seemed to me as if I heard Lavender’s voice talking loudly in the distance. I hurried forward, and suddenly saw a group of two figures—mere blurs in the darkness—for one instant, at a distance of about fifty yards from where I was.

  “‘The-next moment one figure had fallen forward and the other had disappeared. I ran to the spot, only to find the body of the murdered man lying on the ground. I stooped to see if I could be of any use to him, and immediately I was collared from behind by Lord Arthur himself.’

  “You may imagine,” said the man in the corner, “how keen was the excitement of that moment in court. Coroner and jury alike literally hung breathless on every word that shabby, vulgar individual uttered. You see, by itself his evidence would have been worth very little, but coming on the top of that given by James Terry, its significance—more, its truth—had become glaringly apparent. Closely cross-examined, he adhered strictly to his statement; and having finished his evidence, George Higgins remained in charge of the constables, and the next witness of importance was called up.

  “This was Mr. Chipps, the senior footman in the employment of Lord Arthur Skelmerton. He deposed that at about 10.30 on the Friday evening a ‘party’ drove up to ‘The Elms’ in a fly, and asked to see Lord Arthur. On being told that his lordship had company he seemed terribly put out.

  “‘I hasked the party to give me ’is card, continued Mr. Chipps, ‘as I didn’t know, perhaps, that ‘is lordship might wish to see ’im, but I kept ‘im standing at the ’all door, as I didn’t altogether like his looks. I took the card in. His lordship and the gentlemen was playin’ cards in the smoking-room, and as soon as I could do so without disturbing ’is lordship, I give him the party’s card.’

  “‘What name was there on the card?’ here interrupted the coroner.

  “‘I couldn’t say now, sir,’ replied Mr. Chipps; ‘I don’t really remember. It was a name I had never seen before. But I see so many visiting cards one way and the other in ’is lordship’s ‘all that I can’t remember all the names.’

  “‘Then, after a few minutes’ waiting, you gave his lordship the card? What happened then?’

  “‘’Is lordship didn’t seem at all pleased,’ said Mr. Chipps with much guarde
d dignity; ‘but finally he said: “Show him into the library, Chipps, I’ll see him,” and he got up from the card table, saying to the gentlemen: “Go on without me; I’ll be back in a minute or two.”

  “‘I was about to open the door for ’is lordship when my lady came into the room, and then his lordship suddenly changed his mind like, and said to me: “Tell that man I’m busy and can’t see him,” and ‘e sat down again at the card table. I went back to the ’all, and told the party ‘is lordship wouldn’t see ’im. ‘E said: ”Oh! it doesn’t matter,” and went away quite quiet like.’

  “‘Do you recollect at all at what time that was?’ asked one of the jury.

  “‘Yes, sir, while I was waiting to speak to ’is lordship I looked at the clock, sir; it was twenty past ten, sir.’

  “There was one more significant fact in connection with the case, which tended still more to excite the curiosity of the public at the time, and still further to bewilder the police later on, and that fact was mentioned by Chipps in his evidence. The knife, namely, with which Charles Lavender had been stabbed, and which, remember, had been left in the wound, was now produced in court. After a little hesitation Chipps identified it as the property of his master, Lord Arthur Skelmerton.

  “Can you wonder, then, that the jury absolutely refused to bring in a verdict against George Higgins? There was really, beyond Lord Arthur Skelmerton’s testimony, not one particle of evidence against him, whilst, as the day wore on and witness after witness was called up, suspicion ripened in the minds of all those present that the murderer could be no other than Lord Arthur Skelmerton himself.

  “The knife was, of course, the strongest piece of circumstantial evidence, and no doubt the police hoped to collect a great deal more now that they held a clue in their hands. Directly after the verdict, therefore, which was guardedly directed against some person unknown, the police obtained a warrant and later on arrested Lord Arthur in his own house.”

  “The sensation, of course, was tremendous. Hours before he was brought up before the magistrate the approach to the court was thronged. His friends, mostly ladies, were all eager, you see, to watch the dashing society man in so terrible a position. There was universal sympathy for Lady Arthur, who was in a very precarious state of health. Her worship of her worthless husband was well known; small wonder that his final and awful misdeed had practically broken her heart. The latest bulletin issued just after his arrest stated that her ladyship was not expected to live. She was then in a comatose condition, and all hope had perforce to be abandoned.

  “At last the prisoner was brought in. He looked very pale, perhaps, but otherwise kept up the bearing of a high-bred gentleman. He was accompanied by his solicitor, Sir Marmaduke Ingersoll, who was evidently talking to him in quiet, reassuring tones.

  “Mr. Buchanan prosecuted for the Treasury, and certainly his indictment was terrific. According to him but one decision could be arrived at, namely, that the accused in the dock had, in a moment of passion, and perhaps of fear, killed the blackmailer who threatened him with disclosures which might for ever have ruined him socially, and, having committed the deed and fearing its consequences, probably realizing that the patrolling constables might catch sight of his retreating figure, he had availed himself of George Higgins’s presence on the spot to loudly accuse him of the murder.

  “Having concluded his able speech, Mr. Buchanan called his witnesses, and the evidence, which on second hearing seemed more damning than ever, was all gone through again.

  “Sir Marmaduke had no question to ask of the witnesses for the prosecution; he stared at them placidly through his gold-rimmed spectacles. Then he was ready to call his own for the defence. Colonel McIntosh, R.A., was the first. He was present at the bachelors’ party given by Lord Arthur the night of the murder. His evidence tended at first to corroborate that of Chipps the footman with regard to Lord Arthur’s orders to show the visitor into the library, and his counter-order as soon as his wife came into the room.

  “‘Did you not think it strange, Colonel?’ asked Mr. Buchanan, ‘that Lord Arthur should so suddenly have changed his mind about seeing his visitor?’

  “‘Well, not exactly strange,’ said the Colonel, a fine, manly, soldierly figure who looked curiously out of his element in the witness-box. ‘I don’t think that it is a very rare occurrence for racing men to have certain acquaintances whom they would not wish their wives to know anything about.’

  “‘Then it did not strike you that Lord Arthur Skelmerton had some reason for not wishing his wife to know of that particular visitor’s presence in his house?’

  “‘I don’t think that I gave the matter the slightest serious consideration,’ was the Colonel’s guarded reply.

  “Mr. Buchanan did not press the point, and allowed the witness to conclude his statements.

  “‘I had finished my turn at bridge,’ he said, ‘and went out into the garden to smoke a cigar. Lord Arthur Skelmerton joined me a few minutes later, and we were sitting in the pavilion when I heard a loud and, as I thought, threatening voice from the other side of the hedge.

  “‘I did not catch the words, but Lord Arthur said to me: “There seems to be a row down there. I’ll go and have a look and see what it is.” I tried to dissuade him, and certainly made no attempt to follow him, but not more than half a minute could have elapsed before I heard a cry and a groan, then Lord Arthur’s footsteps hurrying down the wooden stairs which lead on to the racecourse.’

  “You may imagine,” said the man in the corner, “what severe cross-examination the gallant Colonel had to undergo in order that his assertions might in some way be shaken by the prosecution, but with military precision and frigid calm he repeated his important statements amidst a general silence, through which you could have heard the proverbial pin.

  “He had heard the threatening voice while sitting with Lord Arthur Skelmerton; then came the cry and groan, and, after that, Lord Arthur’s steps down the stairs. He himself thought of following to see what had happened, but it was a very dark night and he did not know the grounds very well. While trying to find his way to the garden steps he heard Lord Arthur’s cry for help, the tramp of the patrolling constables’ horses, and subsequently the whole scene between Lord Arthur, the man Higgins, and the constables. When he finally found his way to the stairs, Lord Arthur was returning in order to send a groom for police assistance.

  “The witness stuck to his points as he had to his guns at Beckfontein a year ago; nothing could shake him, and Sir Marmaduke looked triumphantly across at his opposing colleague.

  “With the gallant Colonel’s statements the edifice of the prosecution certainly began to collapse. You see, there was not a particle of evidence to show that the accused had met and spoken to the deceased after the latter’s visit at the front door of ‘The Elms.’ He told Chipps that he wouldn’t see the visitor, and Chipps went into the hall directly and showed Lavender out the way he came. No assignation could have been made, no hint could have been given by the murdered man to Lord Arthur that he would go round to the back entrance and wished to see him there.

  “Two other guests of Lord Arthur’s swore positively that after Chipps had announced the visitor, their host stayed at the card-table until a quarter to eleven, when evidently he went out to join Colonel McIntosh in the garden. Sir Marmaduke’s speech was clever in the extreme. Bit by bit he demolished that tower of strength, the case against the accused, basing his defence entirely upon the evidence of Lord Arthur Skelmerton’s guests that night.

  “Until 10.45 Lord Arthur was playing cards; a quarter of an hour later the police were on the scene, and the murder had been committed. In the meanwhile Colonel McIntosh’s evidence proved conclusively that the accused had been sitting with him, smoking a cigar. It was obvious, therefore, clear as daylight, concluded the great lawyer, that his client was entitled to a full discharge; nay, more, he thought that the police should have been more careful before they harrowed up public feeling by arresting a
high-born gentleman on such insufficient evidence as they had brought forward.

  “The question of the knife remained certainly, but Sir Marmaduke passed over it with guarded eloquence, placing that strange question in the category of those inexplicable coincidences which tend to puzzle the ablest detectives, and cause them to commit such unpardonable blunders as the present one had been. After all, the footman may have been mistaken. The pattern of that knife was not an exclusive one, and he, on behalf of his client, flatly denied that it had ever belonged to him.

  “Well,” continued the man in the corner, with the chuckle peculiar to him in moments of excitement, “the noble prisoner was discharged. Perhaps it would be invidious to say that he left the court without a stain on his character, for I daresay you know from experience that the crime known as the York Mystery has never been satisfactorily cleared up.

  “Many people shook their heads dubiously when they remembered that, after all, Charles Lavender was killed with a knife which one witness had sworn belonged to Lord Arthur; others, again, reverted to the original theory that George Higgins was the murderer, that he and James Terry had concocted the story of Lavender’s attempt at blackmail on Lord Arthur, and that the murder had been committed for the sole purpose of robbery.

  “Be that as it may, the police have not so far been able to collect sufficient evidence against Higgins or Terry, and the crime has been classed by press and public alike in the category of so-called impenetrable mysteries.”

  A Broken-Hearted Woman

  The man in the corner called for another glass of milk, and drank it down slowly before he resumed:

  “Now Lord Arthur lives mostly abroad,” he said. “His poor, suffering wife died the day after he was liberated by the magistrate. She never recovered consciousness even sufficiently to hear the joyful news that the man she loved so well was innocent after all.