CHAPTER IX
MISS TEMPLE'S DISAPPEARANCE
We arrived at Exeter at some time after eight in the evening, and it wasclose to nine before we made our appearance at The Oaks. Inspector Burnsand his companion had left me to myself on the trip down, and I occupiedmy time with smoking and turning over in my mind the curious events ofthe past forty-eight hours. I had no serious apprehension of any troublecoming out of the matter to either Miss Temple or myself. I knew thatthe Inspector's theory was a tissue of errors, although the facts, as hestated them, did seem to fit in with his conclusions to an almostuncanny extent. It was true I had agreed to stand by Miss Temple andhelp her in her trouble. Our conversation on the night of the murderhad, I presumed, been overheard by one of the servants, from whom it hadbeen wormed by McQuade's men during my absence. I began to believe thathis willingness to have me accompany him to London was not entirelydisinterested. But the thought that Muriel Temple could have deliveredthe blow that sent Robert Ashton to his death was preposterous. I knewthat I was prejudiced in her favor, for her lovely face had scarce beenout of my thoughts for a moment, since our first meeting. I knew that Ihad come to love her, that nothing could ever change it, and I realizedthat but two real bits of evidence connected her with Ashton'sdeath--one, the presence of her handkerchief in the room and the curioususe to which it had been put; the other, her early morning expeditionfrom the house and her sudden return. The former she had explained, atleast to my satisfaction, but the latter was still a mystery. If shewould but explain that, I felt sure that Inspector Burns' theory wouldfall to the ground like a house of cards. Why she refused to do so, Icould not imagine--that she had some strong compelling reason, I feltsure. She had told me that she went out that morning, with the intentionof going away and thus escaping the inevitable promise, which she knewher father would insist upon her ratifying, to Ashton. She got only asfar as the end of the west wing, and hastily returned. Why?--that wasthe question. Did she see anyone on the roof--and, if so, whom? Someoneshe felt she must shield at any cost--there could be but one--herfather. Had she then seen him there? Did she think for a moment that hehad anything to do with Mr. Ashton's death? I could not believe thateven for her father's sake she would allow an innocent person to beaccused.
We drove up to Major Temple's door at about nine o'clock. It was quitedark, and very cold. The house showed few lights, and it was some timebefore we were admitted by Gibson, the man who, with myself, had brokenin Mr. Ashton's door. He ushered us into the library, where Major Templesat smoking. I could see that he was suffering deeply. The affair of Mr.Ashton's death had told upon him, and he seemed nervous and constrained.He greeted us pleasantly enough, however, shook hands with theInspector, and requested us to be seated. Sergeant McQuade, however,announced that we had come on business of importance, and that InspectorBurns desired to ask Miss Temple a few questions. Before doing so,however, he requested the Major to conduct us to the scene of themurder, which Inspector Burns had, of course, not had an opportunity, asyet, to examine. The Major rose. "My daughter has retired, I fancy," hesaid. "I have not seen her since dinner, but I will send her word." Hesummoned one of the maids and requested her to inform Miss Temple ofour wishes, and then led the way to the green room. We were quite aparty. The Major led the way with Inspector Burns, and I followed withMcQuade, Major Temple's powerful mastiff, Boris, bringing up the rear.We first entered the room which I had occupied, McQuade using the keywhich he had obtained from the officer who had discovered the supposedweapon in my dresser drawer. The drawer was soon unlocked, and there laythe wretched poker wrapped in my handkerchief, just as I had left it.Inspector Burns took it up, examined it carefully then brandished it asthough in the act of delivering a heavy blow. "Hardly heavy enough, Ishould think, to fracture a man's skull," he muttered, as he replaced itin the drawer. "It is evidently the upper half of a long poker which hasbeen broken off." He turned to Major Temple. "What do you know aboutthis thing?" he inquired.
The Major looked puzzled. He had not seen the weapon before. I imaginethe police had guarded its discovery carefully, and I wondered how MissTemple came to know of it, in order to notify me.
"It is, as you say, half of an old poker," he replied. "It was usedoriginally in the lower hall, and the lower end was burnt through, owingto its having been carelessly left in the fire one night. I gave it tothe gardener. He wanted it to use as a stake in laying out his flowerbeds, and running the edges of the paths and roads while trimming theturf. He had a long cord, and a wooden stake for the other end. It hasbeen roughly ground to a point, as you see, so that it might be readilythrust into the earth. The last time I saw it, he was using it upon thepathways about the house."
"Then it was not in the green room?" asked the Inspector in anaggrieved tone. He saw that his theory would already require somereadjustments.
"Never, to my knowledge," said Major Temple. "There is no fireplace inthat room, and it would have been of no use there."
The Inspector closed the drawer with a slam. "Then, if this was theweapon the murderer used," he said, rather lamely, "he must have takenit along with him. Let us have a look at the room."
We all adjourned to the green room, which the detective unlocked, andthe Inspector went over the ground, as McQuade and I had done beforehim, without discovering anything new. The dark-brown spot upon thegreen carpet, which marked the place where the murdered man's head hadrested, was still plainly visible, a grewsome reminder of the terribletragedy which had been enacted there, but all else seemed ordinary andcommonplace enough. The dog seemed strangely oppressed by thesurroundings and, after sniffing about nervously with a low whine,crawled under the bed and lay quiet. We spent but a few minutes in theroom and were just on the point of leaving, when the maid rushed in and,calling Major Temple aside, addressed a few low words to him, apparentlyin great agitation, at the same time handing him a sealed envelope. TheMajor took it from her, passed his hand nervously over his forehead, andturned to us. "Gentlemen," he said, in a frightened sort of a voice,"Miss Temple cannot be found."
We all turned toward him in intense surprise. "What does this mean?"asked the Inspector. "Where is she?"
"She has disappeared," replied the Major, as we hurriedly left the room,McQuade locking the door carefully after him. "Her maid tells me thatshe has searched everywhere for her, and she cannot be found. Thisnote, addressed to me, was lying upon her writing desk."
"Read it," commanded the Inspector, as we all hastily adjourned to thelibrary.
Major Temple opened the letter with trembling fingers. My own agitationat this new development was equally great.
He glanced hurriedly through its contents, his face ashen, his lipsblue, then read aloud as follows:
"_My Dear Father:_
"I am going to London to see Mr. Morgan. They suspect him of the murder. I overheard the police talking about it this morning. I do not know what to do. I cannot let an innocent person suffer. It may be better for me to remain away altogether. If I must speak I can only ask for forgiveness.
"MURIEL."
If the earth had opened up and engulfed me, I could not have been moreastounded than I was when Major Temple finished reading this strangeletter. What on earth had she gone to London to see me for? The poorgirl, I felt sure, was laboring under some terrible misapprehension. I,for one, had no fear of anything she could say. I glanced at her father.He seemed shrunken and old, his head bowed upon his breast. Could he--?I refused to think. Yet he either feared for himself, or--God helpme!--for her. No other emotion, no consideration for anyone else, couldhave so terribly affected him. The note plainly enough meant that MissTemple knew who had murdered Mr. Ashton, and she knew that it was not I.But would the police so regard it? I looked at the cold, accusing facesof the two Scotland Yard men and groaned inwardly. In a moment theInspector spoke. "Have you a telephone in the house, Major Temple?" heasked.
"Yes," answered the Major,
rousing himself from his lethargy. "In thehall, near the foot of the staircase."
The Inspector nodded to McQuade, who arose without a word and left theroom. I knew that Muriel had not yet had time to reach London, that,when she did so, it would be to step into the arms of an officer. Thenet was fast closing about someone, but about whom I could not yet see.I was lost in a maze of conflicting thoughts.
"Mr. Morgan, have you anything to say in explanation of this letter?" Iheard Major Temple asking me. His voice came to me as from afar off. Ilooked up and shook off my growing fears.
"Miss Temple writes as though she believed you would understand what shemeans," I replied. "I certainly do not."
"I!" cried the Major. "It's absolute nonsense to me. Why should she wantto see you, unless you understood something between you? What does sheknow, that she should speak, and for what does she seek forforgiveness?" He threw up his hands in absolute dismay. If this wereacting, I thought, it could not be better done by the most renownedactor on the boards.
"You remember, Major Temple, that your daughter refused to tell what itwas she saw, or what happened, that caused her to return to the house sosuddenly that morning. I advised her to speak--she refused. Had she cometo me to-night, I should have given her the same advice as before.Nothing that she can say would harm me."
"Nor me," retorted Major Temple.
"Then whom, in Heaven's name?" I cried, speaking my thoughts aloud.
"You have heard my theory of the murder, Mr. Morgan," said theInspector, coldly. "Why not herself? The note is plain enough. She willspeak--she will confess and accuse herself before she will allow you tobear the penalty of her crime."
"Her crime!" Major Temple was on his feet in an instant, his eyesblazing. "Your words are ill chosen, sir." Poor man, he did not know ofthe damning circumstances which the Inspector had so cleverly woven intohis accusing theory.
"Not at all, Major Temple," replied the imperturbable Inspector."Sergeant McQuade is at present ordering the arrest of your daughter.She will be apprehended as soon as she arrives in London, and we willhear her story at the Magistrate's hearing to-morrow."
"But," I cried, in consternation, "this is ridiculous. Don't you seethat--?"
"Mr. Morgan, the time has come for the truth. It is my painful duty toplace you under arrest."
"On what charge?" I demanded hotly.
"For complicity in Robert Ashton's murder," he replied, and placed hishand upon my shoulder.
I spent a dreary enough night, nor was I able to close my eyes in sleep.I sat up in the library through the long hours, sometimes talking withMcQuade, who dozed upon a couch, but for the most part engaged ininterminably revolving in my mind the maddening problem of RobertAshton's death. I had begun to regard it as almost supernatural in itsmysterious and devious phases. I thought of all the detective stories Ihad ever read and tried to piece out some points of resemblance, somesimilar events, which would serve as a starting point for a solution,but I could find none. In all these cases, the various clews ledsomewhere, but here they led to nothingness. There remained but MissTemple's story, and that, like all the rest, I feared would fail toprove a solution of the mystery. That she herself was guilty and thather story would be in the nature of a confession, I refused to consider.I loved her and I could no more believe her guilty than I could havebelieved myself so; yet I could not help remembering the advice of thewitty Frenchman: _cherchez la femme_--seek the woman. The thing seemedmonstrous, yet it persisted all through the long night.
I must have dozed, toward morning, for I dreamed that I was alone upon awide field of ice, running madly forward toward a dim light thatconstantly receded as I approached it, and followed by a pack of hungrywolves. Their yelps and cries filled me with dread. I awoke trembling,and listened. Far off I heard the mournful howling of a dog, a series oflow, unearthly howls, that would die slowly away only to be once morerepeated. It seemed like the moaning of an animal in great pain.Presently, as I listened, there came a great yelp, and thereaftersilence. After this I slept. About seven o'clock coffee was brought tous, and a little later we set out for the town.
We walked in, and did the short distance in less than twenty minutes. Onarrival, we went at once to the headquarters of the police, where Imade my first acquaintance with the interior of a cell. McQuade informedme that I would be taken before the Magistrate for a hearing at teno'clock, and suggested that I had better employ counsel, but this Irefused to do. I had made up my mind to tell the whole story as simplyand exactly as I could and trust to the plain, unvarnished truth to seeme out of my difficulties. I asked the detective upon our arrival if hehad received any word regarding Miss Temple, and he told me that shewould arrive during the forenoon. Major Temple and the servants were tocome into the town a little later, in time for the hearing, at whichthey would be wanted as witnesses. I secured a morning paper andresigned myself to a tedious wait of somewhat over two hours. I wasstrangely calm and self-possessed. The ordeal through which I was aboutto pass seemed to give me but slight concern. But for Miss Temple Ifeared greatly.
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