`Sit down there,' interrupted the doctor, leading him to the fire. `You remember my colleague here?'
`Yes. Er.. yes, of course,' Arbor said, vaguely. He added, `Is Sir William about?'
`No. That's it. Sit down.'
`I presume he has been informed of my purchase of the manuscript?' inquired Arbor.
`He has. But it doesn't matter now, you know. Neither of you will ever have it. It's burnt.'
The man's finger darted to his eyeglasses to keep them on. He said: `You mean… he… somebody… that is.' Arbor made an uncertain gesture. `How was it destroyed? This is terrible, Inspector!'
The doctor drew out his pocket-book. Carefully he took from it the only part of the manuscript which remained, and stood weighing it thoughtfully.
`May. I… may I see that, Inspector?'
He took the flimsy strip of paper in unsteady hands and held it close under the pink shaded lamp. For some time he studied it, back and front. Then he looked up. `Undoubtedly… ah.. undoubtedly. Inspector, this is an outrage, you know! I own this.'
`Is it worth anything now?'
`Well…'
`I see that there's some hope for you, then. Now, I'll tell you how it is, Arbor,' said Dr Fell, in an argumentative voice suggestive of the elder Weller. `If I were in your shoes, I should take that bit of paper, and put it in my pocket, and forget all about it for the present. You're in enough trouble as it is.'
`Trouble?' demanded Arbor, in rather too challenging a voice. The way he held the paper reminded Rampole of a man with stage-fright holding his notes on a lecture platform; calm in every way except that betraying flutter of the paper,
`Do you know,' continued the,' doctor, pleasantly, `that I've been of half a mind to let you cool off in gaol for a day or two? Why did you run away?'
`Run away? My dear man…!’
'Don't try to deceive me,' said the doctor, in a sinister voice. It was a rather less blatant resurrection of Hamlet's father's Ghost. 'Scotland Yard sees all. Shall I tell you what you did?'
He proceeded to give an account of Arbor's behaviour after leaving the Tower. It was accurate enough in its details, but so neatly distorted that it sounded like the flight of a guilty man from the law.
`You said,' he concluded, `that you had important information to give me personally. I am willing to listen. But I warn, you, man, that your position is very bad. And if you don't tell me the whole truth.
Arbor leaned back in the chair, breathing noisily. The strain of the day, the late hour, all his experiences since the murder, held him limp and nerveless.
`Ah yes,' he murmured. `Yes. I perceive, Inspector, that circumstances have put me in a false light. I will tell you everything. I had intended to do so, but now I see I have no choice. You see, I felt that I was in a doubly unfortunate and precarious position, I feared that I might not be threatened only by the police, but by some criminal as well.
I am… a man of books, Inspector. My life is sheltered. I do not mingle with the more… ah… tempestuous portions of the world. You, who are a man of rough existence, and accustomed to hand-to-hand encounters with desperate ruffians, will not understand what I felt when I was faced with a bewildering problem of criminal nature.
'It began with that cursed manuscript. I came here for the purpose, of getting it from Bitton. Not unnaturally — a querulous note raised his voice — `I wanted my own property; But I hesitated. Owing to the unpredictable eccentricities of Bitton's nature, I was placed in a distressing dilemma.. '
`I see,' said Dr Fell. `What you, mean is that you were afraid of Bitton, and so you had to hire somebody to pinch it for you.'
`No!' Arbor insisted, gripping the arms of the chair in his earnestness. `That is precisely what I do not mean. I feared you would think so, as your colleague indicated this afternoon. And I was careful to point' out to all of you there could have been no legal steps taken against me had I done so… But, Inspector, I did not do it. I will take my oath on it.
'When the manuscript was stolen it was as much of a surprise to me as it was to Bitton. The first I heard of the theft, you see, was when he telephoned to my friends, the Spenglers, on Sunday night to… ah… to see where I was. But then…'
He caught Dr Fell's cold eye, and there was a new vehemence in his tone.
`Then, considerably later the same night, I received another phone call at the Spenglers'.'
'Ah!' grunted the doctor. `From whom?'
`The person refused to give his name. But I was almost positive I knew whose voice it was. I thought it was the voice of young Mr Driscoll.'
Dr Fell jumped. He glared at Arbor, who returned his gaze with a dogged steadiness. Arbor went on:
`I reviewed everything in my mind, and I was sure. I had met this young man at dinner the week before, when I had made almost reckless remarks and exceedingly broad hints about the Poe manuscript. The only other persons who could have heard them were Miss Bitton and Sir William; they were the only others at the table… Hence I was sure when this voice spoke. He asked me whether I was interested in a Poe manuscript belonging to Sir William Bitton, and gave such details of what I remembered having said, that I had no doubt. He asked me what price I should be willing to pay, no questions asked, if the manuscript were handed over to me.
`I am ah. accustomed to rapid decisions and prompt action, Inspector. I was, sure I; was dealing, with a member of the family. The voice, it is true, was somewhat gruff; but I had little difficulty in seeing through, the disguise. Dealing with a member of the family was very different from dealing with a hired burglar. In case of trouble, there would be no scandal. In any case, there could be no prosecution against me.. This person naturally did not know I was the owner of the manuscript; nobody did. If, therefore, he had any ideas of blackmail in his mind after the theft, I could afford to smile. He would be the only one to take the risk.
`I reviewed my position in a moment, Inspector, and I perceived that this was… ah… the easiest solution of, my difficulties. After the manuscript came to my hands, I could always drop a note to Sir William explaining my ownership, and referring him to my solicitors in case he did not believe me and wished to prosecute. I knew he would not do so. Besides, it was… ah… obvious,' said Arbor, hesitantly, `that the amount of the commission… ah…'
`You could promise him whatever he asked,' said the doctor, bluntly. `And when you got the manuscript you could give him fifty pounds and tell him to whistle for the rest because you owned it and he was the only thief. And the fifty pounds would be much less than you'd have to pay Bitton.'
`Considerably less. You state matters very succinctly, Inspector,' Arbor nodded. `I agreed to what the unknown person said, and asked him whether he had the manuscript. He replied that he had, and again demanded how much I should pay for it. I mentioned rather a large sum. He agreed, and stated that he would name a rendezvous in the course of the next day. I was to be communicated with through the Spenglers. His stipulation was that I must never inquire into his identity.'
`Well?' prompted the doctor.
`Naturally I attempted to trace the call, when he had hung up. It was impossible.' `Go on.'
Arbor glanced over his shoulder. The nervousness had come back again.
`The following day, today, I went about my affairs as usual. I paid a long-delayed visit to the Tower of London; And, I proceeded exactly as I have told you. When I was detained on my attempt to leave by the news of the murder, I was not unduly upset. I thought, indeed, that it would be, fascinating to watch Scotland Yard at work, and I assumed that it was some member of the underworld who had been killed.'
Again Arbor adjusted his glasses. `You will own, Inspector, that it came as a shock when you began your questioning of me by inquiring about Poe manuscripts. Even so, I flatter myself, that I was cool and… you will pardon me… triumphant over you. It was not until you mentioned the name of the dead man that He drew out the silk handkerchief and mopped his forehead. `My heart, Inspector; I could not see it would make me betray we
akness. The possibilities had suddenly become menacing and horrible. Driscoll, at my order, had promised to deliver me that manuscript; and now he was murdered. I must assume even now that he was killed because of it. It occurred to me that in some heinous fashion, I might come into the case as accessory of some sort. A murder case.' He shuddered. `I could not see how it might concern me directly, but there were any number of dangers. And where was the manuscript? You had not found it on Driscoll's body. I wanted to forget it. As you saw, I wanted no search for it, above all things, because a search might uncover evidence to lead to me.'
`So far,' said the doctor, `very well. What then?'
Rampole was puzzled. If the doctor had insisted on anything in the case so far, he had insisted Driscoll would never attempt to dispose of the manuscript to Arbor. But here he was, nodding ponderously and fixing his sharp little eyes on the collector as though he believed every word. And Rampole, too, was compelled to believe Arbor. There was only the possible explanation that Driscoll, in a moment of panic, had made to Arbor an offer whose dangers he saw in a calmer moment the next day, and decided to drop the whole affair….
`Now,' said Arbor, clearing his throat now, Inspector, I come to the amazing, the incredible part of my whole story.. If you could have imagined'…!’
'Just after you left us in the Warders' Hall,' the doctor interposed, slowly, 'you got the fright of your life, and it sent you out to Golders Green in a, blind panic. What was it?
Arbor seemed to have come to a jumping-off place in his narrative; he hesitated on the brink of the leap, tapping his glasses and peering over.
`Inspector,' he said, `before I tell you what you must regard as completely incredible, let; me ask you a question' or two. In that room when you were questioning me, who was present?'
`H'm. There was Hadley, my my colleague; and Mr Rampole here; and General Mason, and Sir Wil — Hold on, no! I'm wrong. Bitton wasn't there. He had gone up to Mason's rooms.'
Arbor stared. `Bitton was at the Tower?'
`Yes.. But he wasn't in the room with us. Proceed.'
`The next thing,' Arbor said, carefully, `is… ah, what shall I say?… an impression, rather than a question. Speaking with someone on the telephone is, in a certain sense, somewhat like speaking to a person in the dark. You hear the voice alone. There is no personality or physical appearance to distract you from your impressions,' of the voice itself. If you heard a voice on the telephone, without having seen the speaker, and later you meet the speaker in real life, you might not recognize him, because his appearance or his personality might destroy the impressions of the voice. But if you heard him in the dark… '
`I think I understand.'
`Very well. You dismissed me after the questioning, you will recall, and I went outside. The door of the room in which you had been talking to me was not quite closed. It was very dark and quite misty under the arch of the Tower there. I stood outside the door to accustom my eyes to the gloom. As it was, I was terrified. I could with difficulty make a good exit from the room. There was a; warder on duty, but he stood at some distance from me. I could hear you talking in the room I had left….
`Then Inspector,' said Arbor, bending forward with fist clenched, `I think I received the most horrible shock of my life. In the room I had not noticed it, I suppose, because the influence of personalities had overborne the impressions of my hearing.
`As I stood there in the dark, I heard a voice speak from the room. It sounded little louder than a whisper or a mumble. But I knew that the voice I heard from that room was the same voice which had spoken to me on the telephone the day before, and offered to sell me the Poe manuscript.'
19. Under the Bloody Tower?
This astounding intelligence did, not seem to affect Dr Fell in the least. His wonderfully sharp dark eyes remained fixed on Arbor.
`I suppose,' he said at length, `the voice really, came from that room?'
`I assume so. There was nobody else about' who could have spoken, and the words were not addressed to me; they were a part of a conversation, it seemed to me.'
`What did the voice say?'
Again Arbor became tense. `I cannot tell you. I have tried until I am ill, but I can't remember. You must understand the shock of hearing that voice… He moved his arm, and the fist clenched spasmodically. `To begin with, it was like hearing a dead man's voice. I had been willing to swear that the voice over the telephone belonged to Bitton's nephew. Then Bitton's nephew was dead. And suddenly this hideous whisper..' 'Listen, Inspector. I told you that the telephone voice seemed disguised; gruffer, as it were; and I had attributed it to Driscoll. But this was the telephone voice. Of, that I am absolutely certain now. I don't know what it said. I only know that I put my hand against the wall of the tower and wondered whether I were going mad. I tried to visualize with whom I had spoken in the room, and I discovered that I could scarcely remember who had been there. I could not remember who had talked, or who had remained silent; it was impossible to think which one of you had uttered what I heard.
`Try to consider what my position was. I thought I had spoken to Driscoll; yet here was the voice. I had been speaking in that room to somebody… certainly a criminal and in all probability a killer. I had outlined completely my position as owner of the manuscript. And somebody (I had forgotten which one) made it clear that if I had employed a thief to take my own property, he could expect only pay for his thievery and not the immense sum I had mentioned I would pay. I… well, to tell you the truth, I was not thinking at all. I was only feeling. I felt certain, without knowing why, that the "voice" had killed Driscoll. Everything had gone mad, and, to make it worse, if I could believe my ears this "voice" was one o f the police.
`Otherwise I should have gone back immediately and confessed the whole business. But I was afraid both of having the police on my side, and of having them against me. I suppose I acted insanely. But I could think of nothing else to do. It was only late this evening, when I was certain I heard somebody trying to get into my cottage, that I determined to end the suspense, one way or the other.'
He sat back, bewildered, dejected, with his handkerchief again at his forehead.
`Still,' said Dr Fell, musingly, `you could not swear the voice came from that room?'
`No. But’
`And there is not one word you can definitely remember its having said?'
'I'm afraid not.'
Dr Fell drew back his chins and pushed out his chest in a meditative fashion.
`Now, I've heard you out, Arbor, and I've got a few words to say. We're all alone here. Nobody has heard your story; but Sergeant Rampole and myself. We can forget it, that's our business when no crime has been done; but I shouldn't advise you to repeat it to anybody else. You would be in grave danger of being confined either in gaol or in a lunatic asylum…. Do you realize what you've said, he inquired, slowly lifting-his cane to point. `There were four people in that room. You must, therefore, accuse the voice as being either the chief inspector of the C. I: D., one of his highest and most trusted officers, or the deputy governor of the Tower of London. If you retract that statement, and decide that the voice actually was Driscoll, you lay yourself open to grave trouble in connexion with a murder case. Your status is that of madman or suspected criminal. Do you want to take your choice?'
`But I'm telling you the truth, I swear, before…!'
`Man,' said Dr Fell, with a thunder of earnestness in his voice, `I have no doubt you think you're telling the truth.. You heard a voice. The question is, what voice, and where did it come from?'
`All right,' Arbor said, despondently. `But what am I going to do? I wish I'd never heard of Poe or manuscripts or any … besides, I'm in potential danger of my life… What the devil are you laughing at Inspector?'
`I was merely smiling,' said Dr Fell, 'at your fears for your own skin. If that's all you're worrying about, you can stop. We have the murderer, safely. The "voice" can't hurt you, I guarantee that. And you don't want to be tangled up
in this affair any farther, do you?'
`Good God, no!… You mean you have caught..!'
`Arbor, the murder had no concern with your manuscript. You can forget it. You'll feel like forgetting your fears, too, in the morning. The murderer is'dead. Any inquest on Driscoll will be a private and perfunctory thing; it'll be kept out of the press because it can't serve any useful purpose. So you needn't worry. Go to a hotel and get some sleep; And, if you hold your tongue, I'll promise to hold mine.
'But the man trying to get at me to-night…!'
`He was one of my own constables, to scare you into telling what you know. Run along, man! You never were in any danger in the world.'
`But!’
`Run along, man! Do you want Sir William to walk in here on you and make trouble?'
It was the most effective argument he could have used. Arbor did not even inquire too closely into the identity of the murderer. So long as the murderer had no designs on
him, his aura conveyed that he was averse to the gruesome details of a vulgar murder. When Dr Fell and Rampole walked with him to the front door they found Hadley, who had shortly dismissed the two constables, in the front hall.
`I don't think,' the doctor said, `that we need detain Mr Arbor any longer. I have his story, and I'm sorry to say it doesn't help us. Good-night, Mr Arbor.'
`I shall walk,'- said Arbor with cool dignity, `to a hotel. Good-night, gentlemen.'
`You dismissed him damned quickly,' growled the chief inspector, but, without much interest, `after all the trouble he gave us. What did he say?'
Dr Fell chuckled. `Driscoll phoned him and offered him the manuscript. He thought he might get mixed up as some sort of accessory;. '
`But, good God! I thought you said…"
`Blind panic, my boy. Driscoll would never have done it, you can rest assured. And, as you pointed out, it was in blind panic that he burnt the manuscript…. Then Arbor had some sort of wild idea that he heard, the dead man's voice talking to him. You know, Hadley, if I were you I should never bring that man before a coroner's jury. He'd snake us all sound mad… But you don't need him, do you?'
The Mad Hatter Mystery dgf-2 Page 18
