The Paradise Mystery

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER XVII. TO BE SHADOWED

  Dick Bewery burst in upon his sister and Ransford with a budget of newssuch as it rarely fell to the lot of romance-loving seventeen to tell.Secret and mysterious digging up of grave-yards by night--discoveryof sealed packets, the contents of which might only be guessed at--thewhole thing observed by hidden spectators--these were things he had readof in fiction, but had never expected to have the luck to see in reallife. And being gifted with some powers of imagination and of narrative,he made the most of his story to a pair of highly attentive listeners,each of whom had his, and her, own reasons for particular attention.

  "More mystery!" remarked Mary when Dick's story had come to an end."What a pity they didn't open the parcel!" She looked at Ransford, whowas evidently in deep thought. "I suppose it will all come out?" shesuggested.

  "Sure to!" he answered, and turned to Dick. "You say Bryce fetched oldHarker--after you and Bryce had watched these operations a bit? Did hesay why he fetched him?"

  "Never said anything as to his reasons," answered Dick. "But, I ratherguessed, at the end, that Bryce wanted me to keep quiet about it, onlyold Harker said there was no need."

  Ransford made no comment on this, and Dick, having exhausted his stockof news, presently went off to bed.

  "Master Bryce," observed Ransford, after a period of silence, "isplaying a game! What it is, I don't know--but I'm certain of it. Well,we shall see! You've been much upset by all this," he went on, afteranother pause, "and the knowledge that you have has distressed me beyondmeasure! But just have a little--a very little--more patience, andthings will be cleared--I can't tell all that's in my mind, even toyou."

  Mary, who had been sewing while Ransford, as was customary with him inan evening, read the Times to her, looked down at her work.

  "I shouldn't care, if only these rumours in the town--about you--couldbe crushed!" she said. "It's so cruel, so vile, that such things--"

  Ransford snapped his fingers.

  "I don't care that about the rumours!" he answered, contemptuously."They'll be crushed out just as suddenly as they arose--and then,perhaps, I'll let certain folk in Wrychester know what I think of them.And as regards the suspicion against me, I know already that the onlypeople in the town for whose opinion I care fully accept what I saidbefore the Coroner. As to the others, let them talk! If the thing comesto a head before its due time--"

  "You make me think that you know more--much more!--than you've ever toldme!" interrupted Mary.

  "So I do!" he replied. "And you'll see in the end why I've kept silence.Of course, if people who don't know as much will interfere--"

  He was interrupted there by the ringing of the front door bell, at thesound of which he and Mary looked at each other.

  "Who can that be?" said Mary. "It's past ten o'clock."

  Ransford offered no suggestion. He sat silently waiting, until theparlourmaid entered.

  "Inspector Mitchington would be much obliged if you could give him a fewminutes, sir," she said.

  Ransford got up from his chair.

  "Take Inspector Mitchington into the study," he said. "Is he alone?"

  "No, sir--there's a gentleman with him," replied the girl.

  "All right--I'll be with them presently," answered Ransford. "Takethem both in there and light the gas. Police!" he went on, when theparlourmaid had gone. "They get hold of the first idea that strikesthem, and never even look round for another, You're not frightened?"

  "Frightened--no! Uneasy--yes!" replied Mary. "What can they want, thistime of night?"

  "Probably to tell me something about this romantic tale of Dick's,"answered Ransford, as he left the room. "It'll be nothing more serious,I assure you."

  But he was not so sure of that. He was very well aware that theWrychester police authorities had a definite suspicion of his guiltin the Braden and Collishaw matters, and he knew from experience thatpolice suspicion is a difficult matter to dissipate. And before heopened the door of the little room which he used as a study he warnedhimself to be careful--and silent.

  The two visitors stood near the hearth--Ransford took a good look atthem as he closed the door behind him. Mitchington he knew well enough;he was more interested in the other man, a stranger. A quiet-looking,very ordinary individual, who might have been half a dozen things--butRansford instantly set him down as a detective. He turned from this manto the inspector.

  "Well?" he said, a little brusquely. "What is it?"

  "Sorry to intrude so late, Dr. Ransford," answered Mitchington, "but Ishould be much obliged if you would give us a bit of information--badlywanted, doctor, in view of recent events," he added, with a smile whichwas meant to be reassuring. "I'm sure you can--if you will."

  "Sit down," said Ransford, pointing to chairs. He took one himself andagain glanced at the stranger. "To whom am I speaking, in addition toyourself, Inspector?" he asked. "I'm not going to talk to strangers."

  "Oh, well!" said Mitchington, a little awkwardly. "Of course, doctor,we've had to get a bit of professional help in these unpleasant matters.This gentleman's Detective-Sergeant Jettison, from the Yard."

  "What information do you want?" asked Ransford.

  Mitchington glanced at the door and lowered his voice. "I may aswell tell you, doctor," he said confidentially, "there's been a mostextraordinary discovery made tonight, which has a bearing on the Bradencase. I dare say you've heard of the great jewel robbery which tookplace at the Duke of Saxonsteade's some years ago, which has been amystery to this very day?"

  "I have heard of it," answered Ransford.

  "Very well--tonight those jewels--the whole lot!--have been discoveredin Paradise yonder, where they'd been buried, at the time of therobbery, by the thief," continued Mitchington. "They've just beenexamined, and they're now in the Duke's own hands again--after allthese years! And--I may as well tell you--we now know that the objectof Braden's visit to Wrychester was to tell the Duke where those jewelswere hidden. Braden--and another man--had learned the secret, fromthe real thief, who's dead in Australia. All that I may tell you,doctor--for it'll be public property tomorrow."

  "Well?" said Ransford.

  Mitchington hesitated a moment, as if searching for his next words. Heglanced at the detective; the detective remained immobile; he glanced atRansford; Ransford gave him no encouragement.

  "Now look here, doctor!" he exclaimed, suddenly. "Why not tell ussomething? We know now who Braden really was! That's settled. Do youunderstand?"

  "Who was he, then?" asked Ransford, quietly.

  "He was one John Brake, some time manager of a branch of a Londonbank, who, seventeen years ago, got ten years' penal servitude forembezzlement," answered Mitchington, watching Ransford steadily. "That'sdead certain--we know it! The man who shared this secret with him aboutthe Saxonsteade jewels has told us that much, today. John Brake!"

  "What have you come here for?" asked Ransford.

  "To ask you--between ourselves--if you can tell us anything aboutBrake's earlier days--antecedents--that'll help us," repliedMitchington. "It may be--Jettison here--a man of experience--thinksit'll be found to be--that Brake, or Braden as we call him--was murderedbecause of his possession of that secret about the jewels. Our informanttells us that Braden certainly had on him, when he came to Wrychester, asort of diagram showing the exact location of the spot where the jewelswere hidden--that diagram was most assuredly not found on Braden whenwe examined his clothing and effects. It may be that it was wrestedfrom him in the gallery of the clerestory that morning, and thathis assailant, or assailants--for there may have been two men atthe job--afterwards pitched him through that open doorway, afterhalf-stifling him. And if that theory's correct--and I, personally, amnow quite inclined to it--it'll help a lot if you'll tell us what youknow of Braden's--Brake's--antecedents. Come now, doctor!--you know verywell that Braden, or Brake, did come to your surgery that morning andsaid to your assistant that he'd known a Dr. Ransford in times past! Whynot speak?"

  Ransford, instead
of answering Mitchington's evidently genuine appeal,looked at the New Scotland Yard man.

  "Is that your theory?" he asked.

  Jettison nodded his head, with a movement indicative of conviction.

  "Yes, sir!" he replied. "Having regard to all the circumstances of thecase, as they've been put before me since I came here, and with specialregard to the revelations which have resulted in the discovery of thesejewels, it is! Of course, today's events have altered everything. If ithadn't been for our informant--"

  "Who is your informant?" inquired Ransford.

  The two callers looked at each other--the detective nodded at theinspector.

  "Oh, well!" said Mitchington. "No harm in telling you, doctor. A mannamed Glassdale--once a fellow-convict with Brake. It seems they leftEngland together after their time was up, emigrated together, prospered,even went so far--both of 'em!--as to make good the money they'dappropriated, and eventually came back together--in possession of thissecret. Brake came specially to Wrychester to tell the Duke--Glassdalewas to join him on the very morning Brake met his death. Glassdale didcome to the town that morning--and as soon as he got here, heard ofBrake's strange death. That upset him--and he went away--only to comeback today, go to Saxonsteade, and tell everything to the Duke--with theresult we've told you of."

  "Which result," remarked Ransford, steadily regarding Mitchington, "hasapparently altered all your ideas about--me!"

  Mitchington laughed a little awkwardly.

  "Oh, well, come, now, doctor!" he said. "Why, yes--frankly, I'm inclinedto Jettison's theory--in fact, I'm certain that's the truth."

  "And your theory," inquired Ransford, turning to the detective, "is--putit in a few words."

  "My theory--and I'll lay anything it's the correct one!--is this,"replied Jettison. "Brake came to Wrychester with his secret. That secretwasn't confined to him and Glassdale--either he let it out to somebody,or it was known to somebody. I understand from Inspector Mitchingtonhere that on the evening of his arrival Brake was away from the MitreHotel for two hours. During that time, he was somewhere--with whom?Probably with somebody who got the secret out of him, or to whom hecommunicated it. For, think!--according to Glassdale, who, we are quitesure, has told the exact truth about everything, Brake had on him ascrap of paper, on which were instructions, in Latin, for finding theexact spot whereat the missing Saxonsteade jewels had been hidden, yearsbefore, by the actual thief--who, I may tell you, sir, never had theopportunity of returning to re-possess himself of them. Now, afterBrake's death, the police examined his clothes and effects--they neverfound that scrap of paper! And I work things out this way. Brake wasfollowed into that gallery--a lonely, quiet place--by the man or men whohad got possession of the secret; he was, I'm told, a slightly-built,not over-strong man--he was seized and robbed of that paper and flungto his death. And all that fits in with the second mystery ofCollishaw--who probably knew, if not everything, then something, of theexact circumstances of Brake's death, and let his knowledge get to theears of--Brake's assailant!--who cleverly got rid of him. That's mynotion," concluded the detective. "And--I shall be surprised if it isn'ta correct one!"

  "And, as I've said, doctor," chimed in Mitchington, "can't you give us abit of information, now? You see the line we're on? Now, as it's evidentyou once knew Braden, or Brake--"

  "I have never said so!" interrupted Ransford sharply.

  "Well--we infer it, from the undoubted fact that he called here,"remarked Mitchington. "And if--"

  "Wait!" said Ransford. He had been listening with absorbed attention toJettison's theory, and he now rose from his chair and began to pace theroom, hands in pockets, as if in deep thought. Suddenly he paused andlooked at Mitchington. "This needs some reflection," he said. "Are youpressed for time?"

  "Not in the least," answered Mitchington, readily. "Our time's yours,sir. Take as long as you like."

  Ransford touched a bell and summoning the parlourmaid told her tofetch whisky, soda, and cigars. He pressed these things on the two men,lighted a cigar himself, and for a long time continued to walk up anddown his end of the room, smoking and evidently in very deep thought.The visitors left him alone, watching him curiously now and then--until,when quite ten minutes had gone by, he suddenly drew a chair close tothem and sat down again.

  "Now, listen to me!" he said. "If I give my confidence to you, as policeofficials, will you give me your word that you won't make use of myinformation until I give you leave--or until you have consulted mefurther? I shall rely on your word, mind!"

  "I say yes to that, doctor," answered Mitchington.

  "The same here, sir," said the detective.

  "Very well," continued Ransford. "Then--this is between ourselves, untilsuch time as I say something more about it. First of all, I am not goingto tell you anything whatever about Braden's antecedents--at present!Secondly--I am not sure that your theory, Mr. Jettison, is entirelycorrect, though I think it is by way of coming very near to theright one--which is sure to be worked out before long. But--on theunderstanding of secrecy for the present I can tell you something whichI should not have been able to tell you but for the events of tonight,which have made me put together certain facts. Now attention! To beginwith, I know where Braden was for at any rate some time on the eveningof the day on which he came to Wrychester. He was with the old man whomwe all know as Simpson Harker."

  Mitchington whistled; the detective, who knew nothing of SimpsonHarker, glanced at him as if for information. But Mitchington nodded atRansford, and Ransford went on.

  "I know this for this reason," he continued. "You know where Harkerlives. I was in attendance for nearly two hours that evening on apatient in a house opposite--I spent a good deal of time in looking outof the window. I saw Harker take a man into his house: I saw the manleave the house nearly an hour later: I recognized that man next day asthe man who met his death at the Cathedral. So much for that."

  "Good!" muttered Mitchington. "Good! Explains a lot."

  "But," continued Ransford, "what I have to tell you now is of a muchmore serious--and confidential--nature. Now, do you know--but, ofcourse, you don't!--that your proceedings tonight were watched?"

  "Watched!" exclaimed Mitchington. "Who watched us?"

  "Harker, for one," answered Ransford. "And--for another--my lateassistant, Mr. Pemberton Bryce."

  Mitchington's jaw dropped.

  "God bless my soul!" he said. "You don't mean it, doctor! Why, how didyou--"

  "Wait a minute," interrupted Ransford. He left the room, and the twocallers looked at each other.

  "This chap knows more than you think," observed Jettison in a whisper."More than he's telling now!"

  "Let's get all we can, then," said Mitchington, who was obviously muchsurprised by Ransford's last information. "Get it while he's in themood."

  "Let him take his own time," advised Jettison. "But--you mark me!--heknows a lot! This is only an instalment."

  Ransford came back--with Dick Bewery, clad in a loud patterned and gailycoloured suit of pyjamas.

  "Now, Dick," said Ransford. "Tell Inspector Mitchington precisely whathappened this evening, within your own knowledge."

  Dick was nothing loth to tell his story for the second time--especiallyto a couple of professional listeners. And he told it in full detail,from the moment of his sudden encounter with Bryce to that in which heparted with Bryce and Harker. Ransford, watching the official faces, sawwhat it was in the story that caught the official attention and excitedthe official mind.

  "Dr. Bryce went off at once to fetch Harker, did he?" asked Mitchington,when Dick had made a end.

  "At once," answered Dick. "And was jolly quick back with him!"

  "And Harker said it didn't matter about your telling as it would bepublic news soon enough?" continued Mitchington.

  "Just that," said Dick.

  Mitchington looked at Ransford, and Ransford nodded to his ward.

  "All right, Dick," he said. "That'll do."

  The boy went off again,
and Mitchington shook his head.

  "Queer!" he said. "Now what have those two been up to?--something,that's certain. Can you tell us more, doctor?"

  "Under the same conditions--yes," answered Ransford, taking his seatagain. "The fact is, affairs have got to a stage where I consider itmy duty to tell you more. Some of what I shall tell you is hearsay--butit's hearsay that you can easily verify for yourselves when the rightmoment comes. Mr. Campany, the librarian, lately remarked to me that myold assistant, Mr. Bryce, seemed to be taking an extraordinary interestin archaeological matters since he left me--he was now, said Campany,always examining documents about the old tombs and monuments of theCathedral and its precincts."

  "Ah--just so!" exclaimed Mitchington. "To be sure!--I'm beginning tosee!"

  "And," continued Ransford, "Campany further remarked, as a matter forhumorous comment, that Bryce was also spending much time lookinground our old tombs. Now you made this discovery near an old tomb, Iunderstand?"

  "Close by one--yes," assented the inspector.

  "Then let me draw your attention to one or two strange facts--which areundoubted facts," continued Ransford. "Bryce was left alone with thedead body of Braden for some minutes, while Varner went to fetch thepolice. That's one."

  "That's true," muttered Mitchington. "He was--several minutes!"

  "Bryce it was who discovered Collishaw--in Paradise," said Ransford."That's fact two. And fact three--Bryce evidently had a motive infetching Harker tonight--to overlook your operations. What was hismotive? And taking things altogether; what are, or have been, thesesecret affairs which Bryce and Harker have evidently been engaged in?"

  Jettison suddenly rose, buttoning his light overcoat. The action seemedto indicate a newly-formed idea, a definite conclusion. He turnedsharply to Mitchington.

  "There's one thing certain, inspector," he said. "You'll keep an eye onthose two from this out! From--just now!"

  "I shall!" assented Mitchington. "I'll have both of 'em shadowedwherever they go or are, day or night. Harker, now, has always been abit of a mystery, but Bryce--hang me if I don't believe he's been havingme! Double game!--but, never mind. There's no more, doctor?"

  "Not yet," replied Ransford. "And I don't know the real meaning or valueof what I have told you. But--in two days from now, I can tell you more.In the meantime--remember your promise!"

  He let his visitors out then, and went back to Mary.

  "You'll not have to wait long for things to clear," he said. "Themystery's nearly over!"