The Place of Dragons: A Mystery

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER VI

  MYSTERY INEXPLICABLE

  The town of Cromer was agog, when, next day, the coroner held hisinquiry.

  The afternoon was warm, and the little room usually used as the policecourt was packed to suffocation.

  The jury--the foreman of which was a stout local butcher--having viewedthe body, the inquest was formally opened, and Mrs. Dean, the firstwitness, identified the remains as those of her visitor, Mr. EdwardCraig.

  This, the first intimation to the public that Mr. Gregory was not deadafter all, caused the greatest sensation.

  In answer to the coroner, Mrs. Dean explained how, with his uncle, oldMr. Gregory, Craig had taken apartments with her. She had always foundhim a quiet, well-conducted young gentleman.

  "Was he quite idle?" asked the grave-faced coroner.

  "No. Not exactly, sir," replied the witness, looking round the closelypacked room. "He used to do a good deal of writing for his uncle, moreespecially after the young man, Mr. Gregory's private secretary, hadbeen over from Sheffield."

  "How often did he come?"

  "At intervals of a week or more. He always carried a small despatch-box,and on those occasions the three would sit together for half the day,doing their business, with the door closed--and," added the landladyvigorously, "Mr. Craig had no end of business sometimes, for he receivedlots of telegrams. From what I heard him say one day to his Uncle, Ibelieve he was a betting man, and the telegrams were results of races."

  "Ah, probably so," remarked the coroner. "I believe you have not seenthe elder gentleman since the tragic evening of his nephew's death?"

  "No, sir. The last I saw of Mr. Gregory was when he wished me'good-night,' and went to bed, as was his habit, about half-past ten, onthe night previous."

  "And, where was the deceased then?"

  "My servant Anne had taken up his hot water, and he had already gone tobed."

  "And, did you find next day that the beds had been slept in?"

  "Mr. Craig's had, but Mr. Gregory's hadn't," was the reply. Whereat theeager, listening crowd buzzed and moved uneasily.

  The grave-faced county official holding the inquiry, having finishedwriting down the replies to his questions upon blue foolscap, lookedacross to the row of twelve tradesmen, and exclaimed in his sharp,brusque manner----

  "Have the jury any questions to put to this witness?"

  "I'd like to ask, sir," said the fat butcher, "whether this Mr. Gregorywas not a very eccentric and extraordinary man?"

  "He was," replied the good woman with a smile. "He always suspected thatpeople was a-robbin' him. He'd strike out threepence from my weeklybill, and on the very same day, pay six or seven shillings for a poundof fresh strawberries."

  "During the night you heard nobody leave your house?"

  "No, neither me, nor my husband, heard any sound. Of course, our dogknew both of 'em, and was very friendly, so he'd make no noise."

  "I would like to ask you, Mrs. Dean," said another juryman, thethin-faced manager of a boot-shop, "whether Mr. Craig was in the habitof receiving any strangers?"

  "No," interrupted the coroner, "we are not here to inquire into that. Weare here solely to establish the identity of the deceased and the causeof his death. The other matters must be left to the police."

  "Oh! I beg pardon sir," ejaculated the offending juryman, and sat backin his chair with a jerk.

  George Simmonds, a picturesque figure in his coast-guard uniform, wascalled next, and minutely described how he had found deceased, and had,from his dress, believed him to be old Mr. Gregory. Afterwards he wascross-examined by the foreman of the jury as to whom he had met duringhis patrol that night, and what he knew personally about the dead man.

  "I only know that he was a very nice young gentleman," replied thecoast-guard. "Both he and his uncle often used to pass the time o' daywith us out against the flagstaff, and sometimes they'd have a lookthrough the glass at the passing ships."

  The police evidence then followed, and, after that Dr. Sladen, the chiefmedical man in Cromer, took the oath and made the following statement,in clear, business-like tones, the coroner writing it down rapidly.

  "Henry Harden Sladen, Doctor of Medicine, 36, Cliff Avenue, Cromer. Iwas called to see deceased by the police, at about half-past four on themorning of the twelfth of June. He was lying upon a public seat on theEast Cliff, and on examination I found that he had been dead about twohours or more."

  "Any signs of violence?" inquired the coroner, looking up sharply at thewitness, and readjusting his gold-rimmed glasses.

  "None whatever."

  "Yes, Dr. Sladen?"

  "Yesterday afternoon," continued the witness, "I made a post-mortemexamination in conjunction with Dr. Copping, of Cromer, and found thebody to be that of a young man about twenty-five years old, of somewhatathletic build. All the organs were quite normal. There was an old woundunder the left shoulder, apparently a bullet wound, and two rathercurious scars on the right forearm, which, we agreed, had been receivedwhile fencing. We, however, could find no trace of disease or injury."

  "Then to what do you attribute death?" inquired the coroner.

  "Well, I came to the conclusion that the young man had been suddenlyasphyxiated, but how, is a perfect mystery," responded the doctor. "Itwould be difficult to asphyxiate any one in the open air without leavingany mark of strangulation."

  "I take it that you discovered no mark?"

  "Not the slightest."

  "Then you do not think death was due to natural causes?"

  "It was due to asphyxiation--a rapid, almost instantaneous death it musthave been--but it was not due to natural causes."

  "Briefly put, then, you consider that the deceased was the victim offoul play?"

  "Yes. The young man was murdered, without a doubt," replied the doctor,slowly. "But so ingeniously was the crime committed, that no trace ofthe methods by which death was accomplished has been left. The assassin,whoever he was, must have been a perfect artist in crime."

  "Why do you think so?" asked the coroner.

  "For several reasons," was the reply. "The victim must have been sittingupon the seat when suddenly attacked. He rose to defend himself and, ashe did so, he was struck down by a deadly blow which caused him tostagger, reel, and fall lifeless some distance away from the seat. Yetthere is no bruise upon him--no sign of any blow having been struck. Hisrespiratory organs suddenly became paralysed, and he expired--a mostmysterious and yet instant death."

  "But is there no way, that you--as a medical man--can account for such adeath, Dr. Sladen?" asked the coroner dryly.

  "There are several ways, but none in which death could ensue in suchcircumstances and with such an utter absence of symptoms. If death hadoccurred naturally we should have been quickly able to detect the fact."

  After one or two pointless questions had been put to the witness bymembers of the jury, his place was taken by his colleague, Dr. Copping,a pushing young medico who, though he had only been in Cromer a year,had a rapidly-growing practice.

  In every particular he corroborated Dr. Sladen's evidence, and gave itas his professional opinion that the young man had met with foul play,but how, was a complete mystery.

  "You do not suspect poison, I take it?" asked the coroner, looking upfrom his writing.

  "Poison is entirely out of the question," was Dr. Copping's reply. "Thedeceased was asphyxiated, and died almost instantly. How it was done, Ifail to understand and can formulate no theory."

  The public, seated at the back of the court, were so silent that onecould have heard the dropping of the proverbial pin. They had expectedsome remarkable revelations from the medical men, but were somewhatdisappointed.

  After the evidence of Inspector Treeton had been taken, the coroner, ina few brief words, put the matter before the jury.

  It was, he said, a case which presented several very remarkablefeatures, not the least being the fact that the nephew had gone out inthe night, dressed in his uncle's clothes and made
up to resemble theelder man. That fact made it evident that there was some unusual motivefor going out that night on the part of the deceased man--either ahumorous one, or one not altogether honest. The latter seemed the mostreasonable theory. The young man evidently went out to keep a tryst inthe early morning, and while waiting on the seat, was suddenly attackedand murdered.

  "Well, gentlemen," he went on, removing his glasses, and polishing themwith his handkerchief, "it is for you to return your verdict--to say howthis young man met with his death, to-day, or, if you consider itadvisable, you can, of course, adjourn this inquiry in order to obtainadditional evidence. Personally, I do not see whence any additionalevidence can come. We have heard the depositions of all concerned, andif you decide that it is a case of wilful murder, as both Dr. Sladen andDr. Copping have unhesitatingly stated it to be, the rest must be leftto the police, who will no doubt use their utmost endeavours to discoverthe identity of this 'artist in crime,' as Dr. Sladen put it, who isresponsible for this young man's death. So far as I am concerned, and Ihave acted as coroner for this district for twenty-three years, I havenever before held an inquiry into a case which has presented so manypuzzling features. Even the method by which the victim was done to deathis inexplicable. The whole thing, gentlemen, is inexplicable, and, asfar as we can discern, there is no motive for the crime. It is, ofcourse, for you to arrive at a verdict now, or to adjourn for a week.Perhaps you will consult together."

  The twelve Norfolk tradesmen, under the leadership of the obese butcher,whispered together for a few moments and were quickly agreed.

  The coroner's officer, a tall constable, standing near the door, sawthat the foreman wished to speak, and shouted: "Silence!"

  "We will return our verdict at once, Mr. Coroner," said the butcher. "Wefind that deceased was murdered."

  "That is your verdict, eh? Then it will read, 'that deceased waswilfully murdered by some person or persons unknown.' Is that what youall agree?" he asked in his quick, business-like manner.

  "Yes, sir. That is our verdict," was the response.

  "Any dissentients?" asked the official. But there was none.

  "Then the rest must be left to the police," said the coroner, resuminghis writing.

  At those words, the public, disappointed at the lack of gory details,began to file out into the street, while the jury were discharged.

  Who was the murderer? That was the question upon every one's tongue.

  And where was Vernon Gregory, the quaint, eccentric old fellow who hadbecome such a notable figure in Cromer streets and along the asphaltedparade. What had become of him?

  The police had, of course, made no mention in their evidence of thesearch in the rooms occupied by the two men--of the discovery of thesplendid treasure of gold and jewels--or of the fact that the real Mr.Vernon Gregory had died while on a voyage to India.

  With Frayne, I walked back to the police-station, where we found that notrace had yet been discovered of the old man. He had disappeared swiftlyand completely, probably in clothes which in no way resembled those hehabitually wore, for, as his pocket-book and other things were found inthe cape worn by his nephew, we assumed that they were actually theuncle's. Therefore, it would be but natural that old Gregory would haveleft the house wearing clothes suitable to a younger man.

  The fact that Lola had visited him told me much.

  Gregory, whoever he was, was certainly no amateur in the art ofdisguise. In all probability he now presented the appearance of a man ofthirty or so, and in no way resembled the eccentric old gentleman wholooked like a poet and whose habits were so regular.

  That there was a mystery, a strange, amazing mystery, I knewinstinctively. Edward Craig had, I felt confident, fallen the victim ofa bitter and terrible vengeance--had been ingeniously done to death byone whose hand was that of a relentless slayer.

  So, as I walked past the grey old church of Cromer, back to the _Hotelde Paris_, I pondered deeply.

  My own particular knowledge I kept a fast secret to myself. Among thatheterogeneous collection of treasures had been one object which Irecognized--an object I had seen and handled once before, in verydifferent circumstances.

  How came it in that old sea-chest, and in the possession of the man whowas now exposed as an impostor?

  Mr. Day, the chief officer of the coast-guard, passed me by and saluted.But I was so preoccupied that I scarcely noticed him.

  I had crossed by the path leading through the churchyard, and arrivedat the corner of Jetty Street--a narrow, old-fashioned lane which leadsalong to the cliff-top in front of the _Hotel de Paris_, and where aninclined slope goes down to the pier.

  Suddenly, on raising my eyes at a passer-by, my gaze met that of a tall,thin, pale-faced, rather gentlemanly man in a dark grey suit, andwearing a grey felt hat.

  The stranger, without noticing me, went on with unconcern.

  But in that second I had recognized him. We had met before, and in thatinstant I had fixed him as the one man who knew the truth regarding thatremarkable secret I had now set out to investigate.

  I halted aghast, and half-turned upon my heel to greet him.