The Spider Web (A Sherlock Holmes Uncovered Tale Book 4)
Page 7
As everyone was a bit stunned, outside appearances to the contrary notwithstanding, my officious manner overawed them and they agreed to my plan. As we came into the library and sat down, a silence enveloped the room. I had decided upon a plan of action, when the three ladies of the house entered the room.
Jane Grafton was ashen faced, while Agatha Hardwick seemed quite her usual self. In between them, leaning upon Jane Grafton’s arm, was a weeping Irene Stuart. As they came in, Miss Stuart pulled away from Miss Grafton and ran across the room. She threw herself into the arms of a surprised Robert Hardwick.
“There, there, my dear,” he said, in some discomfort. “We must all strive to be strong.”
Robert was stroking the girl’s hair as he said this, but his words belied his manner. There was no one in the room, save Miss Stuart herself, who seemed as upset and shocked as he. It was obvious that Robert Hardwick was completely dumbfounded by the turn of events.
After some time, everyone found a seat in the library and soft conversation began. Servants brought in tea and biscuits while Hudson, who had recovered some of his savoir faire, was supervising the others. Anyone walking into the chamber would never have guessed that the lord of the manor lay dead in the next room.
Percy, who was seated next to me on a divan, leaned in for some private words.
“Holmes, should we not begin a search of the grounds?” he asked plaintively. “I loathe the thought that the killer of Sir John is putting distance between himself and justice with every moment.”
“I do not believe that there is any chance that the murderer will make their escape from justice,” I stated. “If I am right, what is needed now is not speed, but thought.”
“Do you mean to say that just by thought alone you can spy out the hiding place of the killer, no matter what the distance?”
“Not precisely,” I conceded. “But rather, that I believe that the killer is employing stealth rather than escape.”
Percy was thoroughly fogged by my words as I could tell at a glance. I was about to further explain my thinking when I became aware of an agitated conversation between George and Robert Hardwick.
“Is this really the time for this discussion, George?” asked Robert angrily. “My uncle lies dead and you are counting pennies. Good God, I despise accountants.”
“I am not an accountant, Robert, and I feel uncle’s loss no less than you do, even if I was not the favored nephew,” said George Hardwick, in a sad voice. “But there is no point in pretending that all is as it was. I am certain that Miss Stuart understands that. The jewel is the centerpiece of our collective fortune.”
I could guess what the discussion concerned. George Hardwick had lost no time in asserting possession of the Spider Diamond necklace for the family. And as matters stood, Miss Stuart no longer had any claim to membership in the family.
“I must say, she’s a brave lass,” said Percy softly.
I was in agreement with his statement. Irene Stuart, after her dramatic entrance, had composed herself with a marked efficacy. I wondered what trials she had seen in her life that prepared her to face this awful situation with such equanimity. The lady in question rose and walked to the center of the room.
“I wish to say to all, that although I was in love with the man I cared nothing for his money or any jewels,” she stated. “Whether or not there are those here who disbelieve that, it is the truth.”
Jane Grafton rushed to her side.
“Of course, we believe you, dear Irene,” said she. “I know that you have a true heart.”
“Thank you, Jane,” said the girl. “I tell you now, my only concern is to discover who has foully murdered Sir John Hardwick, and why.”
“You speak for me as well, madam,” said a voice from the doorway.”
Chapter Eleven
We all turned and saw three men standing at the doorway between the great hall and the library. The man who had spoken was a dark slender gentleman of medium height, in a dark suit. Standing directly behind him was a uniformed police sergeant and another man, not in uniform, with a large walrus mustache.
“Chief Constable Grissom, I am glad to see you,” cried George Hardwick.
The mustached man came forth and shook hands with Hardwick. The slender man came in his wake, while the sergeant remained by the doorway.
“Hardwick,” said Grissom. “This is an awful tragedy, but we have had one bit of good luck. Inspector Grey was in the area today, and he has agreed to take charge of the investigation.”
Hardwick gave the dark man an appraising look. The Inspector did not quail beneath his gaze, and indeed returned it with penetrating and intelligent eyes.
“Mr. Hardwick,” he said, in an even voice. “Now, would that be Mr. George Hardwick, or Mr. Robert Hardwick. The Constable has already acquainted me with the members of the household.”
“I am George Hardwick, Inspector,” said he. “Please, allow me to introduce the rest of our small group.”
In turn, George Hardwick introduced everyone. Grey gave each a nod. I noticed that he gave special attention to Percy, and most especially to me.
“Right,” the Inspector finally said. “Now, I understand the butler found the body. Would that be you, my good man?”
George Hardwick had failed to introduce Hudson, who now stepped forward.
“That is right, sir. I am Hudson, the butler. I have served my master well for many years.”
“Yes, of course,” said the Inspector impatiently. “No one is suggesting otherwise. Describe to me how you came to discover the body, and pay special attention to times and details, my man.”
Hudson took a deep breath and began. “Well, you see, Inspector, the master was a man of regular habits and he, as a rule, naps from one to two in the afternoon. It is his routine that I call upon him in his room at two o’ clock and see to whatever needs he has.”
“And did you do so at two promptly?” asked Grey.
“I did, sir. I was quite astonished that he was not within. I knocked several times and then entered his chamber and found it empty.”
“I see, and then what?”
“I walked down the back stairs by the study and made my way into the music room.”
“Why did you go to the music room? What made you think Sir John would be there?”
“Why, because that is where the master goes immediately following his afternoon rest.”
“I see. Go on.”
“I walked in the room and-”
“Was the door open?” asked the Inspector.
“No, and I should say that I tried the connecting door to the drawing room and it was bolted. I opened the door from the library and went in. I at once saw the body of the master on the floor, murdered.”
“How did you know it was murder?” asked the Inspector sharply.
“Sir, it could be nothing else. The club lay by his head, covered in blood.”
I heard Irene Stuart choke back a sob.
“Very good. And then what did you do?”
“I cried out for help.”
“Immediately?”
“Of course.”
“Careful, Hudson,” cautioned the Inspector. “It would be normal to hesitate for a moment or two. Perhaps, even a minute. Are you certain that you cried out immediately?”
“Well, perhaps I was startled for a few seconds, but certainly not longer than that.”
“And then what time was it that you cried out?”
“It must have been just after the hour. Perhaps a few minutes past,” said Hudson.
“It was two minutes past the hour, Inspector,” I volunteered.
“And how are you that certain? Mr. Holmes, isn’t it?” asked Grey sharply.
“It is my nature to observe, Inspector. When Percy and I entered the home, the call from Hudson came almost at once. I noted the time as we answered the call.”
“Did you now?” asked the Inspector, with suspicion. “I will remember that. My understanding then is
that you, Mr. Holmes, and Mr. Percy Hardwick were next on the scene. Please, describe your movements.”
Percy and I went through our entrance to the house and the quick path to the music room and the body, mentioning that we had passed Agatha Hardwick in the great hall.
“Very good,” said the Inspector, as he made notes. “Now, I believe I would like to observe the scene of the crime and the body. Grissom, please come with me and I wish Hudson, Mr. Holmes, and Mr. Percy Hardwick to come, as well. The rest of you, I beg to remain in this room. I will have more questions when I am finished in the music room. Gentlemen, if you will.”
The small group trooped into the music room and the door to the library was closed. Inspector Grey was a terrier-like man and quickly went about the room. He examined the body and the war club closely, making further notes, and then walked about the room. He checked the door to the drawing room and found that it was indeed bolted from the inside.
“No one came or left that way,” Grey said to Constable Grissom, who nodded an assent. “Now, I understand there was a window open. Which one would that be?”
Percy pointed out the north facing window that had been open earlier. Grey eagerly examined the window and the ground outside of the window. It was easily observed that he was disappointed in what he had found. Grey called over the Chief Constable and instructed him to question the outside staff as to what they had seen that day. Grissom left the room briskly with his charge.
“I myself noted the hardness of the ground. I am afraid no footprints were visible then or now, Inspector,” I said, returning to the subject at hand.
“Is that so, Mr. Holmes?” asked Inspector Grey. “And pray, what else have you observed?”
“Many things, of course, Inspector, but I would note two things that I believe are of importance,” said I. “Firstly, the brandy decanter is not in its proper place.”
“Proper place?” asked the mystified Inspector.
“Surely, you can see that it was formerly placed in the middle of a row of other bottles, and now it is on the end and slightly in front.”
The Inspector frowned and walked to the table with the bottles. He satisfied himself that I was correct, and turned. “Granted, Mr. Holmes, it is askew a bit, but perhaps it is always like that.”
“I fear not, Inspector. I noted the position of the bottles my first day here. It is not in its proper place.”
“Well then, perhaps the victim himself moved it,” parried the Inspector.
“Perhaps,” I said. “Secondly, I would draw your attention to this substance.”
Inspector Grey kneeled and examined the clear glasslike substance.
“A glass has been broken, Mr. Holmes. Why is this important?”
“I did not say it was important, though I believe it is, but it is out of the ordinary. I have observed the efficiency of the Hardwick Hall staff. I can assure you that this glass, as you say, on the floor was not there this morning. It was done deliberately, as well.”
“Deliberately? How can you tell that, sir?”
“The glass is not merely broken, Inspector. A heel has ground it into the floor, as if to obliterate it.”
The Inspector frowned and once more kneeled by the broken shards. After a few moments he arose slowly.
“I must admit that it is as you say, Mr. Holmes,” he conceded. “Are you saying that the murderer had a drink with Sir John before killing him, and then broke the glass he had been drinking from?”
“No, Inspector, I do not say that. Indeed, none of the drinking glasses are missing. This glass was brought into the music room?”
“For what purpose?” asked Grey.
“Indeed, that is the question,” I responded. “May I take a sample, Inspector?”
The Inspector pondered that and then agreed. “Very well. I do not believe it is of great importance, at any rate.”
I produced an envelope from my pocket and scooped some of the material into it. The Inspector watched with little interest, and then he turned his attention to the wall safe.
“It is my understanding that the Spider Diamond necklace is kept in the hall. Is it in this safe?”
He addressed his question to both Percy and Hudson. Neither one could say with certainty that the diamond was within the safe.
“You see, Inspector,” began Percy, “my uncle was somewhat secretive about the location of the diamond. In fact, this safe was meant to be a secret from everyone.”
“Meant to be?” asked Grey. “Do you mean to say that its presence was widely known?”
“Perhaps not widely, Inspector,” admitted Percy. “But I would wager all in the house knew of it, including myself and Holmes.”
We quickly related the story of Sir John showing us the safe, after I had deduced its location.
“So you could tell that by observation, eh, young man?” asked Grey.
“I merely deduced that the picture was concealing something, Inspector. It was Sir John himself that revealed the safe.”
“But young Hardwick here, says it was an open secret.”
“That may be, Inspector, but I was not acquainted with the secret until Sir John divulged it.”
Grey thought that over for a few minutes.
“What of you, Hudson?” he shot out. “Did you know of the safe?”
“Indeed not, sir,” said Hudson, in a startled voice.
“Is the diamond in there?”
“I do not know, sir.”
“Mr. Hardwick,” said the Inspector, turning his attention back to Percy. “Who has the combination to this safe?”
“No one that I know of, Inspector,” stated Percy. “Uncle was quite adamant that the secret of the combination was shared with no one, save himself.”
“Then, how are we to examine its contents?” asked the Inspector.
“I suppose, it must be forced in that event,” said Percy. “Would you agree, Holmes?”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “Unless someone has divined the combination, it must be forced.”
The Inspector looked dubious at the proposition. The safe was very large and quite well made.
“Well, the safe is surely a side note to the whole affair,” said the Inspector, to no one in particular. “What has happened is plain, and there is no sense in becoming distracted.”
“And what has happened, Inspector?” I asked mildly.
“Just this, Mr. Holmes,” he replied. “Sir John came into the music room and surprised a burglar. The burglar was attempting to open the safe, when he was surprised. The war club was on the wall next to the safe. He snatches it up and dispatches the victim. He gets the wind up, remember he did not come to commit murder, and leaves by the manner he gained entrance. That is, by the window. As the door to the drawing room was bolted on this side, and the other door leads into the house, where the killer will surely be seen, it only stands to reason that the crime was committed in this manner.”
“That is possible, Inspector,” said I.
“Possible?” scoffed the inspector. “It is more than that, young man. I should say very likely is the more correct observation. You may have some talents, Mr. Holmes, but remember this is not my first investigation and I am trained in these matters.”
“That theory does not allow however, for the brandy decanter and the broken glass,” I reminded Grey.
“You do seem fixated upon trivial matters, Mr. Holmes. Believe me, when I say I am on the correct path.”
I merely nodded my acquiescence. It was obvious that the Inspector had fixated himself upon his solution and he was going to allow no deviation from his theory, unless forced from it. At that moment, Chief Constable Grissom came back into the room.
“Inspector, he said, with a cloudy face. “I have interviewed several of the gardeners and the stable hands, and they swear no stranger has been on the grounds today.”
Chapter Twelve
Grey was slack jawed for a moment, but recovered quickly.
“That only means that they
did not notice a stranger,” he said. “As they were busy attending their work, they were indeed likely not to notice.”
“Perhaps,” said Grissom dubiously. “But, Grey, the grounds are a hive of activity. There are gardeners and stable hands in constant movement. It would take a stroke of sheer luck to cross the lawns to this room, gain entrance, and leave without being noticed.”
“Well, that just means that the culprit is quite bold,” Grey said, with something less than full confidence. “But it could be done if the villain had strong nerves.”
Grissom seemed unconvinced, yet he remained silent in the face of the Inspector’s theory. Finally the Inspector spoke. “Gentlemen,” he said to Percy and myself, “if you would give us the room, there are some matters I wish to talk over with the Chief Constable.”
“Oh course, Inspector,” I said. “If it meets with your approval, Percy and I will wait in the drawing room for a bit. You can certainly find us there at need. May we use the connecting door?”
Inspector Grey made no objection, so we unbolted the side door and made our egress from the room. The sun was streaming in the drawing room and we made ourselves comfortable on a high backed sofa that faced the window. It was an attractive setting, as it provided some privacy.
“Things are getting a bit thick, eh, Holmes,” observed Percy. “It is hard for me to believe that the grand old explorer is actually dead. What do you make of it?”
“It certainly is a great tragedy for the family,” said I.
“Oh, I’m not so certain of that, Holmes. Does it not seem a bit convenient that the old boy is killed the day before he is to make a gift of the Spider Diamond necklace?”
“That has, of course, occurred to me, as well, but coincidences do happen.”
“The question is, do you believe it to be a coincidence, Holmes?”
“I do not,” I replied slowly.
“I knew it,” said Percy, eagerly and leaning towards me. “Have you formed an idea as to what exactly happened?”
“No, but there are certain items of interest. Certain things that must be explained in order to unravel this mystery.”