CHAPTER XXI
QUESTIONS--AND ANSWERS
A murmur of amazement went round the room, like the sound of rising wind.The coroner held up his hand for silence.
"You say it is yours, Miss Brellier? This--this is really mostremarkable--most remarkable! The revolver is of French make, is it not?You bought it abroad?"
"I did. Just before I first came to England. I had been travellingthrough Tunis before that, and--well, one doesn't like to be withoutthese things. Sir Nigel's revolver came from India, I believe--throughthe agents of a French firm, the makers."
"But--" The coroner's voice was low-pitched, incredulous, "are you tryingto tell us you fired a shot that night, Miss Brellier?"
She shook her head, smiling.
"No--that would be impossible. But my revolver has always lain in thatlittle secretaire, and I have never had cause to use it since I have beenon this side of the Channel. I was in bed early that night, with aheadache. My uncle will tell you that. He took me to my room and spentthe rest of the evening in his study, as you have already heard from him.No, I cannot say I murdered Dacre Wynne. Though I would say that oranything to save Nigel. But I didn't discover that this little revolverof mine had ever been fired until yesterday, when I happened to go to mysecretaire for a letter which I had locked away in that particulardrawer. Then I took it up and chanced to examine it--I don't know why.Perhaps because it was the same as Nigel's, I--" she choked suddenly, andbit at her lips for control. "Is there not a loophole _here_, sir, bywhich Sir Nigel might be saved? Surely it must be traced who used thisrevolver, who fired the shot from it?"
Her voice had risen to a piteous note that brought the tears to many eyesin that crowded room. The coroner coughed. Then he glanced enquiringlyover at Brellier, who had risen from his seat.
"You have something to say about this, Mr. Brellier?"
Brellier made a clicking sound with his tongue.
"I'm afraid my niece has been wasting your time, sir," he said quietly,"because I happen to have used that little instrument myself five monthsago. We had a dog who was hurt--you remember Franco, 'Toinette? And ifyou carry your mind back you will also recollect that he had eventuallyto be shot, and that I was forced to perform that unpleasant operationmyself. He was dear to me, that dog; he was--how do you call it?--a true'pal'. It hurt me to do this thing, but I did it. And with that revolveralso. It was light. 'Toinette must have forgotten that I mentioned thematter to her.
"I am afraid this can have no bearing upon the case--though the dear Godknows that I would do all I could to bring this terrible thing to an end,if it lay in my power. That's is all, I think."
He bowed, and sat down again, beckoning his niece back to her seat witha little frown. She cast a piteous look up into the coroner's face.
"I'm sorry," she said brokenly; "I had forgotten about that. Of course,it is true, as my uncle said. But I was so anxious--so anxious! And thereseemed just a chance. You understand?"
"I do, Miss Brellier. And I am sorry that the evidence in this case isof no use to us. Constable, take the prisoner away to await higherjustice. I must say that I think no other verdict upon the evidencebrought forward could possibly be passed upon the prisoner than I havepassed to-day. I'm sorry, Sir Nigel, but--one must do one's duty, youknow.... We'll be getting back to the office, Mr. Murkford." He beckonedto his clerk, who rose instantly and followed him. "Good afternoon,gentlemen."
... And so the whole wearisome proceedings were at an end--and Cleek hadspoken no word of that would-be assassin who had come upon him in thedark watches of the night and sought his life. He noted that Borkinslooked at him in some surprise, but held his counsel. Borkins knew morethan he had said upon his oath _this_ day; of that Cleek was certain.Well, he would bide his time. There were other ways to work besides theopen-handed fashion of the coroner's court and the policeman's uniform.He was due to meet Borkins that night and discuss the possibilities ofbeing taken on to work at the electrical factory. Something might comeout of that--something _must_ come of that. It was impossible that thething should be left as it was, and an innocent boy--he was certain ofMerriton's innocence, in spite of the evidence against him--should behanged.
As he stepped out into the growing twilight Cleek touched Mr. Narkom onthe arm and then ran over to the van into which the prisoner wasstepping, his guardians of the law upon either side of him, his facewhite, his shoulders bowed. 'Toinette stood a few steps distant, thetears chasing themselves down her face and the sobs drowning her brokenwords of comfort to him. He seemed barely to notice her, but at sight ofCleek he flung himself round, and gave a harsh laugh.
"And a damn lot of good _you've_ done me, for all your fine reputation!"he said sneeringly, his face reddening. "God! that there should be suchfools allowed to hold the law in their hands! You've made a mistake thistime, Mr. Cl--"
"One moment!" Cleek held up a silencing hand as the name almost escapedMerriton's lips. "Officer, I'm from Scotland Yard. I'd like a word withthe prisoner alone, if you don't mind, before you take him away. I'llanswer for his safety, I promise.... Keep your heart up, boy; I've notdone yet!" This in a low-pitched voice, as the two men dropped away fromeither side. "I've not done by a long shot. But evidence has been soconfoundly against you. I'd hopes of that I.O.U., but the whole thing wasso simply explained--and there were the proofs, you know. Still, therewas no telling how the story would come out. But it was so obviouslytrue.... Only, keep up your heart, lad; that's what I wanted to tell you.I'd swear on my oath you weren't guilty. And I'll prove it yet!"
Something like a sob broke in Merriton's voice. He held out an impetuoushand.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said jerkily, "but it's a devilish ordeal. What alife I've led this past week! If you only knew--could only realize! Ittears a man's nerves to atoms. I've almost given up hope--"
Cleek took the hand and held it.
"Never do that, Merriton, never do that," he said softly. "I've beenthrough the mill myself once--years ago now, but the scar stillstays--and it'll be a bit more red hell for the present. But if there'sany saving you, any proving this thing right up to the hilt, I'll do it.That's all I wanted to say. Good-bye, and--buck up. I'm going to speak tothe little girl now, and cheer her up, too. You'll hear everything as itcomes along."
He squeezed the hand, manacled so grimly to the other, and smiled a smilebrimming over with hope and promise.
"God bless you, Mr.--Headland," Merriton replied, and as Cleek beckonedto the two policemen, took his stand between them and entered the closedvehicle. The door shut, the engine purred, and the car shot away up theroad toward the local police-station, leaving the man and the girlstaring after it, the same mute sorrow and sympathy shining in both pairsof eyes.
As it disappeared round a corner, 'Toinette turned to Cleek, her wholeagonized heart in her eyes.
"Mr. Headland!" she broke out with a gush of tears. "Oh, m'sieur, if youdid but know--could but understand all that my poor heart suffers forthat innocent boy! It is breaking every minute, every hour. Is therenothing, nothing that can be done to save him? I'd stake my very life onhis innocence!"
Cleek let his hand rest for a moment upon the fragile shoulder, andlooked down into the pallid face.
"I know you would," he said softly, "for even I know and understand whatthe love of a good woman may do to a man. But, tell me. That story of therevolver--_your_ revolver. You can vouch for it? Your uncle _did_ killthe dog Franco with it? You can remember? Forgive me for asking, orquestioning for a moment the evidence which Mr. Brellier has given, butI am anxious to save that boy from the hands of the law, and for thatreason no stone must be left unturned, no secret kept silent. Carry yourmind back to that time, and tell me if that is true."
She puckered her brows together as if in perplexity and tapped one slim,perfectly-manicured finger against her white teeth.
"Yes," she said at last; "yes, it was every bit of it true--every bit,Mr. Headland. For the moment, in that room of terror, I had forgottenpoor Fran
co's death. But now--yes, I can remember it all fully. My unclespoke the truth, Mr. Headland--I can promise you that."
Cleek sighed. Then:
"But it was _your_ revolver he used, Miss Brellier? Try to remember. Hesaid that he told you of it at the time. Can you recollect your uncletelling you that he used your revolver to shoot the dog with, or not?That is what I want to know."
She shrugged her shoulders and spread out her hands.
"It is so _difficile_. I am trying to remember, and the matter seemedthen so trivial! But there is no reason to doubt my uncle, Mr. Headland,for he loves Nigel dearly, and if there was any way in which he couldhelp to unravel this so terrible plot against him--Oh! I am _sure_ hemust have told me so, _sure_! There would be no point in his telling anuntruth over that."
"And yet you can not recall the actual remark that your uncle made, MissBrellier?"
"No. But I am sure, sure that what he said was true."
Cleek shrugged his shoulders.
"Then, of course, you must know best. Well, we must try and find someother loophole. I promised Merriton I'd speak a few words to you, MissBrellier, just to tell you to keep up heart--though it's a difficulttask. But everything that can be done, _will_ be done. And--if you shouldhappen to hear that I have thrown up the case, and gone back to London,don't be a bit surprised. There are other ways, other means of helpingthan the average person dreams of. Don't mention anything I have said toyou to _anybody_. Keep you own counsel, please, and as a token of myregard for that I will give you my word that everything that _can_ bedone for Merriton will be. Good-bye."
He put out his hand and she laid her slim one in it. For a moment hereyes measured him, scanning his face as though to trace therein anythingof treachery to the cause which she held so dear. Then her face brokeinto a wintry smile.
"I have a feeling, Mr. Headland," she said softly, "that you are goingto be a good friend to us, Nigel and me. It is a woman's intuition thattells me, and it helps me to bear the too dreadful suspense under whichwe are all now labouring. You have my word of honour never to speak ofthis talk together, and to keep a guard on my tongue for the future, ifit is to help Nigel. You will let me know how things go on, Mr.Headland?"
"That I cannot for the present tell. It will depend entirely upon howevents shape themselves, Miss Brellier. You may hear soon--you may nothear at all. But I believe in his innocence as deeply as you do.Therefore you must be content that I shall do my best, _whatever_happens. Good-bye."
He gave her fingers a soft squeeze, held them a moment and then, droppingthem, bowed and swung upon his heel to join Mr. Narkom, who was standingnear by, the last of the group of interested spectators of thatafternoon's ghastly business. Dollops stood a little back from them,awaiting his orders.
"We'll have some supper at the village 'pub,' my dear Lake," said Cleekin a loud, clear voice that carried to every corner of the desertedgarden, "and then come back to the Towers long enough to pack up ourtraps and clear out of this haunted house altogether. The case is one toomany for me, and I'm chucking it." Mr. Narkom opened his mouth to speak,but his colleague gave him no opportunity. "It's a bit too fishy for myliking," he went on, "when the only clues a man's got to go on are adancing flame and a patch of charred grass--which, by the way, neverstruck me as particularly interesting at the best of times--and whenevidence points so strongly toward young Merriton's guilt. All I cansay is, let's go. That's the ticket for me."
"And for me also, old man!" agreed Mr. Narkom, emphatically, followingCleek's lead though rather in the dark. "It's back to London for me,whenever you're ready."
"And that'll be as soon as Dollops can pack my things and get 'em off tothe station."
The Riddle of the Frozen Flame Page 21
