CHAPTER VII
It was a few days after this that Gimblet, taking up an evening paper atthe Club, was startled to see a sinister headline of "Murder,"immediately followed by the name of Ashiel.
"MURDER OF A SCOTCH PEER.""LORD ASHIEL SHOT DEAD IN HIS OWN HOUSE.""ESCAPE OF MURDERER."
"They've got him," he muttered between his teeth as he hastily began toread the paragraph that followed:
"News reaches us, as we go to press, of a dastardly crime, involving thedeath of Lord Ashiel, which occurred late last night at his residence inthe Highlands of Scotland. Lord Ashiel was sitting quietly in his libraryat Inverashiel Castle, when a shot was fired through the window bysomeone in the grounds, which wounded his Lordship so severely that deathtook place instantaneously. Although the household was immediatelyalarmed and a thorough search made through the garden and groundssurrounding the castle, the murderer contrived to escape. The police arecontinuing their search in the neighbourhood, and it is believed that avery strong clue to the scoundrel has been discovered. Douglas, LordAshiel, was the seventh Baron. He was born in 1869, educated at Eton andOxford, and served for some years in the Diplomatic Service. He was awidower and childless, and is succeeded in the title by his nephew, Mr.Mark McConachan."
There was nothing more.
Gimblet strode out of the Club and drove to New Scotland Yard. TheSuperintendent of the Criminal Investigation Department was in, andreceived him gladly. Gimblet held out the paper he had carried off fromthe Club and pointed to the news of the tragedy.
"Is all this correct?" he asked.
"Yes, yes, indeed," replied Mr. Beech, the superintendent. "We heard ofit this morning. The Glasgow people have sent their men up, but it willtake them all day to get to the place. Inverashiel is on the West Coast,and not what one would call easy to get at. They ought to be there aboutfive o'clock."
"Who has gone?" asked Gimblet.
"Macross has gone himself with one or two others. He has taken aphotographer and a finger-print man, and will get to work as soon as hepossibly can. This is a big business. Lord Ashiel is an important person;apart from his being a Scotch landowner--he owns 90,000 acres of moorlandthere--he is connected with half the great families in England. He has acousin in the Cabinet; cousins everywhere, in the Foreign Office, inParliament, in trade; he has one who owns a newspaper. He is rich; he isa sleeping partner in some Newcastle iron works, he is part owner of asmall colliery in Yorkshire. Oh, there's going to be a fine to-do aboutthis case, you bet your life!"
"I knew him," said Gimblet slowly. "He came to see me a fortnight ago. Hetold me he expected an attempt might be made to kill him."
"The deuce he did!" exclaimed Beech. "Did he say who it was he feared?"
"Not exactly; but I gathered he had mixed himself up with some secretsociety abroad. He refused to give me any explicit information, or toappeal to you for protection, as I advised him to do. He told me he hadsome document in his possession which his enemies were anxious to obtainfrom him, and that if they failed to do so by peaceful methods he thoughtit likely they might try to get him out of the way; though he added thathe did not anticipate any open assault, but thought it likely he mightdie some death that should have all the appearances of being accidental.He made me promise to take up the case if this should happen."
"We are always glad of your help, my dear fellow," said Beech.
"He gave me certain instructions, in the event of my being able tosatisfy myself that his death is the work of his Nihilist friends," saidGimblet, who thought it unnecessary to mention his disconcertingexperience with the veiled lady, "And contrariwise, if I can make surethat they have no hand in it, it was his wish that I should then leavethe whole thing alone. So I had better see what I can make of it before Igo into this any further with you."
"I can't say I agree with that idea," protested the superintendent."However, I know you insist on working on your own lines, and that I havereally no influence with you, in spite of the show you make, humbug thatyou are! of consulting my opinion. Well, good luck go with you; and letme know if you hit on anything that escapes our men."
Gimblet walked back to his flat, his mind full of the tragedy which hehad an uneasy feeling he might, in some way, have averted. How, he hardlyknew. Lord Ashiel could not have lived all his life encircled by a cordonof police and detectives; and, without such precautions, a man condemnedby Nihilist societies is practically sure to fall a victim to theirexcellent organization and disregard for the lives of their own members.
Still Gimblet had liked the dead peer, and could not get the palearistocratic face and tired, feverish blue eyes out of his head. Surelyhe might have found some way of preventing this catastrophe.
He found a telegram at his flat. It was signed Byrne, and ran:
"Please come immediately to investigate death of Lord Ashiel certainsome mistake."
It had been sent off at four o'clock that day.
"Higgs," called Gimblet to his servant, as he filled up the prepaid replyform, "I am going North to-night, by the eight o'clock from Euston. Packme things for a week; country clothes; and put in plenty of chocolate."
He collected several things he wanted packed, and then retired to hissitting-room, where he buried himself in an enormous file of typewrittenpapers he had borrowed from Scotland Yard, and which related to thevarious Nihilists known to be living in England. He had to return thembefore he left London, and when he dropped them at the Yard about seveno'clock, on his way to the station, he learnt that no word had yet comefrom the Scotch authorities as to any further developments atInverashiel.
A few minutes past eight he was travelling North as fast as the Scotchexpress could carry him.
It was midday on the following day when he got off the steamer that hadbrought him from Crianan, and landed with his luggage on the wooden pierwhich displayed, painted on a rough board, the name of Inverashiel.
One of the deck hands dumped his luggage out on to the side of the lochand the boat moved on again.
A track led across the moor, and down it Gimblet saw a farm cartadvancing, driven by a man who shouted as he approached:
"The young leddy's comin' doon tae meet ye, sir."
And behind him, on the near skyline, the detective beheld the hurryingfigure of a girl.
Leaving the man with the cart to grapple with his luggage, which was notof large dimensions, Gimblet walked to meet Juliet. As they drew near,she stopped and held out her hand.
"Mr. Gimblet?" she asked.
"Yes," he said; "and you are Miss Byrne, are you not?"
He looked at her keenly as he spoke, noticing that her eyes were red andswollen, and that her whole bearing was eloquent of sorrow and want ofsleep. She lifted a miserable face to him.
"Yes," she said. "I am so glad you have come, but it has seemed a longwhile. I suppose you couldn't get here before. Do you know all that hashappened?"
"I know that Lord Ashiel is dead," said the detective. "Hardly morethan that. Will you tell me all there is to tell before we go up tothe castle?"
"I have left the castle, and am staying with Lady Ruth Worsfold, whosehouse you can just see through the trees," she said. "Will you come therefirst, or shall we go straight to the castle. It is about a mile throughthe woods."
"Let us walk straight up," said Gimblet. "You can tell me as we go. Ihave, as you say, been a long while getting here, but it is fortunatethat the day is fine. I hope it has not rained during the lastthirty-six hours?"
"I don't know," said the girl. "No; I believe it has been fine. But Ihaven't taken much notice what the weather has been like." She wasdisappointed and indignant that he should talk in this trivial strain,when her own heart was nearly bursting, and her every nerve stretched andtingling. She had pinned all her hopes on the arrival of the famousdetective.
Gimblet heard the change in her tone.
"You think I am talking platitudes about the weather," he said quickly,"and you think I am unsympathetic for your distress; but, believe me
,what I said is very much to the point. If it has not rained themurderer's footmarks will be very much more easily seen, and that is veryimportant."
"You don't know," said Juliet in a voice that trembled ominously. "Theyhave found plenty of footmarks. The Glasgow detectives said they wereSir--Sir David Southern's. They found his gun too, not cleaned; and theysay he did it, and they have taken him away, to--to prison." A sobescaped her, but she controlled herself with a great effort and went on:"You must prove that he didn't do it. I know he didn't. Anyone who knewhim must know he didn't. Oh you must, you must, find the real murderer!"
Gimblet was silent for a moment before this appeal. It was difficult toknow what to say. He knew Macross well for a cautious, intelligentofficer; if he had arrested Sir David Southern it seemed pretty certainthat there was good evidence against that gentleman. On the other handLord Ashiel had seemed to think it likely that his death might wear anappearance calculated to mislead. Still Gimblet had a deep-rootedprejudice against holding out hopes he could not see a good chance offulfilling, and he had so often been appealed to by distracted women tosave their friend and "find the real murderer."
"Will you not begin at the beginning?" he said at last. "I know how youcame to be staying at Inverashiel, but I know nothing of what hashappened since your arrival, except the bare fact of Lord Ashiel's death.Tell me every detail you can think of, but, first, who else was stayingat the castle besides yourself? I suppose they have left now?"
"Yes, they have all gone," said Juliet. "The men went before it allhappened, and the others the next day. There were Lady Ruth Worsfold andMrs. Clutsam; they are both cousins of Lord Ashiel's, and he lends themlittle houses that belong to him near here, but they were staying at thecastle for a week or two. Then there was Miss Julia Romaninov. She ishalf a Russian, and Lord Ashiel's sister, who is away just now, hadinvited her. An American girl, Miss Tarver, a great heiress, was theretoo. The men were Sir George Hatch and Colonel Spicer, who are cousins ofLord Ashiel's; and Mr. Mark McConachan and Sir David Southern, who arehis nephews, Mr. McConachan being the son of his dead brother, while SirDavid is his younger sister's child.
"I have been here a fortnight. The time has gone quickly. Every one wasvery nice to me; and, though nothing out of the way happened, it was allnew and delightful, and I enjoyed it very much. Lord Ashiel, especially,was kindness itself; he was never tired of explaining to me the customsand traditions of the countryside, and he spared no pains to see that Iwas amused and entertained. I was with him most of the time, and grew toknow him very well. I thought him a wonderful man: so clever, so widelyread, so tolerant and sympathetic in his opinions. He was terriblydelicate, though; he had continual headaches, and was so easily tired;but he told me it was a new thing for him to feel ill; up till a year orso ago he had always had the best of health. Mrs. Clutsam told me shethought he had been terribly worried over something; she didn't know whatit was; and of course it is not so very long since his wife and childdied. But he did not strike me as being troubled about anything; his eyeshad a sad expression, and sometimes he looked at me in a wondering sortof way; but I never saw him appear worried, and he was always cheerfuland lively while I was with him."
"Was he not equally so with the rest of the party?" asked Gimblet. "Didhe show his likes and dislikes plainly?"
"I am afraid he did, rather. I think feeling ill and tired made himirritable, and his temper was very quick. But he was always nice to me."
"Who wasn't he nice too?"
"Well, I don't think he liked Miss Romaninov much, In fact, she seemed toget on his nerves, and sometimes he was so rude to her that I used towonder that she stayed. But she is such a quiet, good-tempered littlething; she never seems to mind anything, and she was really sorry andupset when he died. And he didn't much like the other girl, Miss Tarver,but he made an effort, I think, to bear with her for his nephew's sake.He said to me how glad he was that the boy would be well provided for."
"Which nephew?" asked Gimblet. "I don't understand. What had Miss Tarverto do with it?"
"Sir David Southern was engaged to marry her. She has thrown him overnow," said Juliet, and in spite of herself there was a trace of elationin her voice. "As soon as Sir David was suspected of the murder she brokeoff the engagement."
"Ah," said Gimblet, stooping to pick a piece of bracken, and waving itbefore him to keep at bay the flies, which were buzzing round them inclouds. He offered another bit silently to his companion, and she took itabsently, without a word.
"He seemed very fond of Mr. McConachan," she said, "and I think he likedevery one else as well. Yes, I am sure he did, though he did have adreadful quarrel with Sir David two days before he was killed; and he wasangry with him once before that."
"Ah," said Gimblet again. "How was that?"
"The first time it was my fault, or partly my fault," Juliet went on. "Itwas out shooting, and I couldn't go as fast as the others, so I laggedbehind and nearly got shot by accident, as Mr. McConachan thought we werein front of him. Sir David was with me, and Lord Ashiel was fearfullyangry with him, and said he'd no business to let me get in a place whereI might have been killed. He was rather cross with him for the next fewdays, though I told him it was my fault; and then the other day, when SirDavid annoyed him again, there was a frightful row."
"Was that your fault too?" asked Gimblet with a smile.
"No, it really wasn't. Sir David had a dog, a retriever, to which he wasdevoted, but which Lord Ashiel hated. It was not a well-trained dog, Imust admit, and it used to pay very little attention to its master,except at meal times, when it became very affectionate, not only to him,but to every one. The truth is that he spoilt it, and never punished itwhen it did wrong, or took any trouble to make it behave better. I heardthat before I arrived there was trouble about it, as it did a lot ofdamage in the garden, trampling down the flower-beds, and knocking LordAshiel's favourite plants to pieces--he was very fond of gardening--andthe very first day they went out shooting it ran away for miles, and SirDavid after it, which delayed one of the drives half an hour. His unclehad been very cross about that, they said, and told Sir David he mustkeep it on a chain; but the next day it ate a grouse it was supposed tobe retrieving, and Lord Ashiel was furious, and said that if it didanything more of the kind he'd have it killed.
"However, after that, all went well. The dog was kept tightly chained,and nothing happened till the other day. We were all out on the moors,waiting in the butts for the last drive to begin. Everything had gonebadly with the shooting that day; the birds all went the wrong way; therewere hardly enough guns for driving, anyhow; there was a high wind, andthe shooting had been shocking; no one had shot well except Mr.McConachan, who is such a good shot; every one had been wounding theirbirds, and that always annoyed Lord Ashiel. He was in a very bad temper,and though he was not cross with me, I was rather afraid he might be, soI went and stood with Sir David. Miss Tarver was watching Sir GeorgeHatch in the next butt, and then came Colonel Spicer, with Mr. McConachanand Lord Ashiel right at the end of the line.
"We had been waiting some time, when Sir David whispered to me that thebirds were coming, and crouched down under the wall of the butt. Hisloader was kneeling behind him ready to hand him his second gun, with twocartridges stuck between his fingers to reload the first one. We were allintent on the grouse, and no one noticed that that wretched dog hadworked his head out of his collar and was roaming about behind us. Justat that moment a mountain hare came lolloping along the crest of thehill, and, deceived by the stillness, came to a pause just opposite usand sat up on its hind legs to brush its whiskers with its paw. Itstoilette didn't last long, however, for by that time the dog had caughtits wind, and with a series of yelps had hurled itself upon it. The harewas off in a second, and away they went, straight down the line, the dogmaking as much noise as a whole pack of hounds as he bounded and leaptover the thick heather. Sir David started up with an exclamation ofdismay, and I, too, stood up and looked over the top of the butt.Following the directio
n of his eyes, I saw clouds of grouse streamingaway to the left, all turning as they came over the hill, and wheelingaway from us towards the north.
"The drive was absolutely spoilt. The hare and its pursuer had by thistime gone the whole length of the butts, and looked like going tillChristmas. Lord Ashiel had come out into the open, and we saw him put hisgun to his shoulder. The dog gave one last leap, and rolled over beforethe report reached our ears. It was a quarter of a mile away from us."
Juliet paused; she was out of breath; they had been walking fast and werewithin sight of the castle gates. The way led along the side of LochAshiel, and the castle rose in front of them on a tall rocky promontory,which jutted far into the water.
"Let us rest here a few minutes," said Gimblet. "It is too much to askyou to talk while we are walking up that hill, and I don't want you toleave out any details, however unimportant they may appear to you."
The Ashiel mystery: A Detective Story Page 7
