Unravelled Knots

by Baroness Orczy

  “‘Charles is a queer fish,’ he would reply. ‘I don’t profess to know what goes on inside him. He seems delighted at the prospect of my marriage, but he doesn’t say much. He is very shy and very sensitive about his deformity, and he won’t see anyone now, not even Muriel.’

  “And thus the stage was set,” the funny creature continued with a fatuous grin, “for the mysterious tragedy which has puzzled the public and the police as much as the friends of the chief actors in the drama. It was set for the scene of Philip Ashley’s marriage to Muriel Lady Peet-Jackson, which was to take place very quietly at St. Saviour’s, Warwick Road, early in the following year.

  “On August 27th old Thornton Ashley died, that is to say he was found dead in his bed by his son Charles, who had returned that morning from his fortnightly weekend holiday. The cause of death was not in question at first; though Dr. Fanshawe-Bigg was out of town at the moment, his locum tenens knew all about the case, and had seen the invalid on the Thursday preceding his death. In accordance with the amazing laws of this country, he gave the necessary certificate without taking a last look at the dead man, and Thornton Ashley would no doubt have been buried then and there without either fuss or ceremony, but for the amazing events which thereupon followed one another in quick succession.

  “The funeral had been fixed for Thursday the 30th, but within twenty-four hours of the old miser’s death it had already transpired that he had indeed left a considerable fortune which included one or two substantial life insurances, and that the provisions of his will were very much as Philip Ashley and his friends had surmised. After sundry legacies to various charitable institutions concerned with the care of children, Thornton Ashley had left the residue of his personalty to whichever of his sons was first married within a year from the time of the testator’s death, the other son receiving an annuity of three hundred pounds. This clearly was aimed at Philip as poor misshapen Charles had always been thought to be out of the running. Moreover, a further clause in the will directed that in the event of both the testator’s sons beings still unmarried within that given time, then the whole of the residue was to go to Charles, with an annuity of one hundred pounds to Philip and a sum of ten thousand pounds for the endowment of an orphan asylum at the discretion of the Charity Organisation Society.

  “There were a few conjectures as to whether Charles Ashley, who, by his brother’s impending marriage, would be left with a paltry three hundred pounds a year, would contest his father’s will on the grounds of non compos mentis, but, you know, it is always very difficult in this country to upset a will, and the provisions of this particular one were so entirely in accord with the wishes expressed by the deceased on every possible occasion, that the plea that he was of unsound mind when he made it would never have been upheld, quite apart from the fact that Mr. Oldwall, who drew up the will and signed it as one of the witnesses, would have repudiated any suggestion that his client was anything but absolutely sane at the time.

  “Everything then appeared quite smooth and above board when suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, came the demand from the insurance company in which the late Mr. Thornton Ashley had a life policy for forty thousand pounds for a post-mortem examination, the company not being satisfied that the deceased had died a natural death. Naturally, Dr. Percy Jutt, who had signed the death certificate, was furious, but he was overruled by the demands of the insurance company, backed by no less a person than Charles Ashley. Indeed, it soon transpired that it was in consequence of certain statements made by Mr. Triscott, a local solicitor, on behalf of Charles Ashley to the general manager of the company, that the latter took action in the matter.

  “Philip Ashley, through his solicitor, Mr. Oldwall, and backed by Dr. Jutt, might perhaps have opposed the proceedings, but quite apart from the fact that opposition from that quarter would have been impolitic, it probably also would have been unsuccessful. Anyway, the sensation-mongers had quite a tit-bit to offer to the public that afternoon: the evening papers came out before midday with flaring headlines: ‘The Mystery Miser of Maida Vale.’ Also ‘Sensational Developments’ and ‘Sinister Rumours.’

  “By four o’clock in the afternoon some of the papers had it that a post-mortem examination of the body of the late Mr. Thornton Ashley had been conducted by Dr. Dawson, the divisional surgeon, and that it had revealed the fact that the old miser had not died a natural death, traces of violence having been discovered on the body. It was understood that the police were already in possession of certain facts and that the coroner of the district would hold an inquest on Thursday the 30th, the very day on which the funeral was to have taken place.”

  III

  “Now I have attended many an inquest in my day,” the Man in the Corner continued after a brief pause, during which his claw-like fingers worked away with feverish energy at his bit of string, “but seldom have I been present at a more interesting one. There were so many surprises, such an unexpected turn of events, that one was kept on tenterhooks the whole time as to what would happen next.

  “Even to those who were in the know, the witnesses in themselves were a surprise. Of course, everyone knew Mr. Oldwall, the solicitor and life-long friend of old Thornton Ashley, and the divisional surgeon, whose evidence would be interesting; then there was poor Charles Ashley and his handsome brother, Philip, now the owner of a magnified fortune, whose romantic history had more than once been paragraphed in the Press. But what in the world had Mr. Triscott, a local lawyer whom nobody knew, and Mrs. Trapp, a slatternly old ‘char,’ to do with the case? And there was also Dr. Percy Jutt who had not come out of the case with flying professional colours, and who must have cursed the day when he undertook the position of locum tenens for Dr. Fanshawe-Bigg.

  “The proceedings began with the sensational evidence of Dr. Dawson, the divisional surgeon, who had conducted the post-mortem. He stated that the deceased had been in an advanced state of uraemia, but this had not actually been the cause of death. Death was due to heart-failure caused by fright and shock following on violent aggression and an attempt at strangulation. There were marks round the throat, and evidences of a severe blow having been dealt to the face and cranium, causing concussion. In the patient’s weak state of health, shock and fright had affected the heart’s action with fatal results.

  “All the while that the divisional surgeon gave evidence, going into technical details which the layman could not understand, Dr. Percy Jutt had obvious difficulty to control himself. He had a fidgety, nervous way with him and was constantly biting his nails. When he, in his turn, entered the witness-box, he was as white as a sheet and tried to hide his nervousness behind a dictatorial, blustering manner. In answer to the coroner, he explained that he had been acting as locum tenens for Dr. Fanshawe-Bigg who was away on holiday. He had visited the deceased once or twice during the past fortnight, and had last seen him on the Thursday preceding his death. Dr. Fanshawe-Bigg had left him a few notes on the case.

  “‘I found,’ he went on to explain, ‘the deceased in an advanced stage of uraemia, and there was very little that I could do, more especially as I was made to understand that my visits were not particularly wanted. On the Thursday deceased was in a very drowsy state, this being one of the best-known symptoms of the disease, and I didn’t think that he could live much longer. I told Mr. Charles Ashley so; at the same time I did not think that the end would come quite so soon. However, I was not particularly surprised when on the Monday morning I received a visit from Mr. Charles Ashley who told me that his father was dead. I found him very difficult to understand,’ Dr. Jutt continued in reply to a question from the coroner, ‘emotion had, I thought, addled his speech a little. He may have tried to tell me something in connection with his father’s death, but I was so rushed with work that morning, and, as I say, I was fully prepared for the event, that all I could do was to promise to come round some time during the day, and, in the meanwhile, in order to facilitate arrangements for the funeral, I gave the necessary certificate.
I was entirely within my rights,’ he concluded, with somewhat aggressive emphasis, ‘and, as far as I can recollect, Mr. Charles Ashley said nothing that in any way led me to think that there was anything wrong.’

  “Mr. Oldwall, the solicitor, was the next witness called, and his testimony was unimportant to the main issue. He had drafted the late Mr. Thornton Ashley’s will in 1919, and had last seen him alive before starting on a short holiday some time in June. Deceased had just heard then of his son’s engagement and witness thought him looking wonderfully better and brighter than he had been for a long time.

  “‘Mr. Ashley,’ the coroner asked, ‘didn’t say anything to you then about any alteration to his will?’

  “‘Most emphatically, no!’ the witness replied.

  “‘Or at any time?’

  “‘At no time,’ Mr. Oldwall asserted.

  “These questions put by the coroner in quick succession had, figuratively speaking, made everyone sit up. Up to now the general public had not been greatly interested; one had made up one’s mind that the old miser had kept certain sums of money, after the fashion of his kind, underneath his mattress; that some evildoer had got wind of this and entered the flat when no one was about, giving poor Thornton Ashley a fright that had cost him his life.

  “But with this reference to some possible alteration in the will the case at once appeared more interesting. Suddenly one felt on the alert, excitement was in the air, and when the next witness, a middle-aged, dapper little man, wearing spectacles, a grey suit and white spats, stood up to answer questions put to him by the coroner, a suppressed gasp of anticipatory delight went round the circle of spectators.

  “The witness gave his name as James Triscott, solicitor of Warwick Avenue. He said that he had known the deceased slightly, having seen him on business in connection with the lease of 73, Malvine Mansions, the landlord being a client of his. On the previous Friday, that is, the 24th, witness received a note written in a crabbed hand and signed ‘A. Thornton Ashley,’ asking him to call at Malvine Mansions any time during the day. This Mr. Triscott did that same afternoon. The door was opened by Mr. Charles Ashley whom he had also met once or twice before, who showed him into the room where the deceased lay in bed, obviously very ill but perfectly conscious and reasonable.

  “‘After some preliminary talk,’ the witness went on, ‘the deceased explained to me that he was troubled in his mind about a will which he had made some four years previously, and which had struck him of late as being both harsh and unjust. He desired to make a new will, revoking the previous one. I naturally told him that I was entirely at his service, and he then dictated his wishes to me. I made notes and promised to have the will ready for his signature by Monday. The thought of this delay annoyed him considerably, and he pressed me hard to have everything ready for him by the next day. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that. I was obliged to go off into the country that evening on business for another client, and couldn’t possibly be back before midday Saturday, when my clerk and typist would both be gone. All I could do was to promise faithfully to call again on Monday at eleven o’clock with the will quite ready for signature. I said I would bring my clerk with me, who could then sign as a witness.

  “‘I quite saw the urgency of the business,’ Mr. Triscott went on in his brisk, rather consequential way, ‘as the poor old gentleman certainly looked very ill. Before I left he asked me to let him at least have a copy of my notes before I went away this evening. This I was able to promise him. I got my clerk to copy the notes and to take them round to the flat later on in the day.’

  “I can assure you,” the Man in the Corner said, “that while that dapper little man was talking, you might have heard the proverbial pin drop amongst the public. You see, this was the first that anyone had ever heard of any alteration in old Ashley’s will, and Mr. Triscott’s evidence opened up a vista of exciting situations that was positively dazzling. When he ceased speaking, you might almost have heard the sensation-mongers licking their chops like a lot of cats after a first bite at a succulent meal; glances were exchanged, but not a word spoken, and presently a sigh of eagerness went round when the coroner put the question which everyone had been anticipating:

  “‘Have you got the notes, Mr. Triscott, which you took from the late Mr. Thornton Ashley’s dictation?’

  “At which suggestion Mr. Oldwall jumped up, objecting that such evidence was inadmissible. There was some legal argument between him and the coroner, during which Mr. Triscott, still standing in the witness-box, beamed at his colleague and at the public generally through his spectacles. In the end the jury decided the point by insisting on having the notes read out to them.

  “Briefly, by the provisions of the new will, which was destined never to be signed, the miser left his entire fortune with the exception of the same trifling legacies and of an annuity of a thousand pounds a year to Philip, to his son Charles absolutely, in grateful recognition for years of unflagging devotion to an eccentric and crabbed invalid. Mr. Triscott explained that on the Monday morning he had the document quite ready by eleven o’clock and that he walked round with it to Malvine Mansions, accompanied by his clerk. Great was his distress when he was met at the door by Charles Ashley, who told him that old Mr. Thornton Ashley was dead.

  “That was the substance of Mr. Triscott’s evidence, and I can assure you that even I was surprised at the turn which events had taken. You know what the sensation-mongers are; within an hour of the completion of Mr. Triscott’s evidence it was all over London that Mr. Philip Ashley had murdered his father in order to prevent his signing a will that would deprive him—Philip—of a fortune. That is the way of the world,” the funny creature added with a cynical smile. “Philip’s popularity went down like a sail when the wind suddenly drops, and in a moment public sympathy was all on the side of Charles who had been done out of a fortune by a grasping and unscrupulous brother.

  “But there was more to come.

  “The next witness called was Mrs. Triscott, the wife of the dapper little solicitor, and her presence here in connection with the death of old Thornton Ashley seemed as surprising at first as that of her husband had been. She looked a hard, rather common, but capable woman, and after she had replied to the coroner’s preliminary questions, she plunged into her story in a quiet, self-assured manner. She began explaining that she was a trained nurse, but had given up her profession since her marriage. Now and again, however, either in an emergency or to oblige a friend, she had taken care of a patient.

  “‘On Friday evening last,’ she continued, ‘Mr. Triscott, who was just going off into the country, on business, said to me that he had a client in the neighbourhood who was very ill, and about whom, for certain reasons, he felt rather anxious. He went on to say that he was chiefly sorry for the son, a delicate man, who was sadly deformed. Would I, like a good Samaritan, go and look after the sick man during the weekend? It seems that the doctor had ordered absolute rest, and Mr. Triscott feared that there might be some trouble with another son because, as a matter of fact, the old man had decided to alter his will.

  “‘I knew nothing about Mr. Thornton Ashley’s family affairs,’ the witness said, in reply to a question put to her the coroner, and calmly ignoring the sensation which her statement was causing, ‘beyond what I have just told that Mr. Triscott said to me, but I agreed to go to Malvine Mansions and see if I could be of any use. I arrived at the flat on Friday evening and saw at once what the invalid was suffering from. I had nursed cases of uraemia before, and I could see that the poor old man had not many more days to live. Still I did not think that the end was imminent. Mr. Charles Ashley, who had welcomed me most effusively, looked to need careful nursing almost as much as his father did. He told me that he had not slept for three nights, so I just packed him off to bed and spent the night in an armchair in the patient’s room.

  “‘The next morning Mr. Philip Ashley arrived and I was told of the arrangement whereby Mr. Charles got a weekend holiday once a f
ortnight. I welcomed the idea for his sake, and as he seemed very anxious about his father, and remembering what my husband had told me, I promised that I would stay on in the flat until his return on the Monday. Thus only was I able to persuade him to go off on his much needed holiday. Directly he had gone, however, I thought it my duty to explain to Mr. Philip Ashley that really his father was very ill. He was only conscious intermittently and that in such cases the only thing that could be done was to keep the patient absolutely quiet. It was the only way, I added, to prolong life and to ensure a painless and peaceful death.

  “‘Mr. Philip Ashley,’ the witness continued, ‘appeared more annoyed than distressed when I told him this, and asked me by whose authority I was here, keeping him out of his father’s room, and so on. He also asked me several peremptory questions as to who had visited his father lately, and when I told him that I was the wife of a well-known solicitor in the neighbourhood, he looked for a moment as if he would give way to a violent fit of rage. However, I suppose he thought better of it, and presently I took him into the patient’s room, who was asleep just then, begging him on no account to disturb the sufferer.

  “‘After he had seen his father, Mr. Ashley appeared more ready to admit that I was acting for the best. However, he asked me—rather rudely, I thought, considering that the patient was nothing to me and I was not getting paid for my services—how long I proposed staying in the flat. I told him that I would wait here until his brother’s return, which I was afraid would not be before ten o’clock on Monday morning. Whereupon he picked up his hat, gave me a curt good-day, and walked out of the flat.

  “‘To my astonishment,’ the witness now said, amidst literally breathless silence on the part of the spectators, ‘it had only just gone eight on the Monday morning when Mr. Philip Ashley turned up once more. I must say that I was rather pleased to see him. I was expecting Mr. Triscott home and had a lot to do in my own house. The patient, who had rallied wonderfully the last two days, had just gone off into a comfortable sleep, and as I knew that Mr. Charles would be back soon, I felt quite justified in going off duty and leaving Mr. Philip in charge, with strict injunctions that he was on no account to disturb the patient. If he woke, he might be given a little barley-water first and then some beef-tea, all of which I had prepared and put ready. My intention was, directly I got home, to telephone to Dr. Jutt and ask him to look in at Malvine Mansions some time during the morning. Unfortunately, when I got home I had such a lot to do, that frankly, I forgot to telephone to the doctor, and before the morning was over, Mr. Triscott had come home with the news that old Mr. Thornton Ashley was dead.’