by Sax Rohmer
What reply I should have offered to this astonishing remark I cannotsay, but at that moment the library door burst open unceremoniously, andoutlined against the warmly illuminated hall, where sunlight poured downthrough the dome, I beheld the figure of Inspector Aylesbury.
"Ah!" he cried, loudly, "so you have come back, Mr. Harley? I thoughtyou had thrown up the case."
"Did you?" said Harley, smilingly. "No, I am still persevering in myineffectual way."
"Oh, I see. And have you quite convinced yourself that Colin Camber isinnocent?"
"In one or two particulars my evidence remains incomplete."
"Oh, in one or two particulars, eh? But generally speaking you don'tdoubt his innocence?"
"I don't doubt it for a moment."
Harley's words surprised me. I recognized, of course, that he mightmerely be bluffing the Inspector, but it was totally alien to hischaracter to score a rhetorical success at the expense of what he knewto be the truth; and so sure was I of the accuracy of my deductions thatI no longer doubted Colin Camber to be the guilty man.
"At any rate," continued the Inspector, "he is in detention, and likelyto remain there. If you are going to defend him at the Assizes, I don'tenvy you your job, Mr. Harley."
He was blatantly triumphant, so that the fact was evident enough thathe had obtained some further piece of evidence which he regarded asconclusive.
"I have detained the man Ah Tsong as well," he went on. "He was anaccomplice of your innocent friend, Mr. Harley."
"Was he really?" murmured Harley.
"Finally," continued the Inspector, "I have only to satisfy myselfregarding the person who lured Colonel Menendez out into the groundslast night, to have my case complete."
I turned aside, unable to trust myself, but Harley remarked quitecoolly:
"Your industry is admirable, Inspector Aylesbury, but I seem to perceivethat you have made a very important discovery of some kind."
"Ah, you have got wind of it, have you?"
"I have no information on the point," replied Harley, "but your mannerurges me to suggest that perhaps success has crowned your efforts?"
"It has," replied the Inspector. "I am a man that doesn't do things byhalves. I didn't content myself with just staring out of the window ofthat little hut in the grounds of the Guest House, like you did, Mr.Harley, and saying 'twice one are two'--I looked at every book on theshelves, and at every page of those books."
"You must have materially added to your information?"
"Ah, very likely, but my enquiries didn't stop there. I had the floorup."
"The floor of the hut?"
"The floor of the hut, sir. The planks were quite loose. I had satisfiedmyself that it was a likely hiding place."
"What did you find there, a dead rat?"
Inspector Aylesbury turned, and:
"Sergeant Butler," he called.
The sergeant came forward from the hall, carrying a cricket bag. ThisInspector Aylesbury took from him, placing it upon the floor of thelibrary at his feet.
"New, sir," said he, "I borrowed this bag in which to bring the evidenceaway--the hanging evidence which I discovered beneath the floor of thehut."
I had turned again, when the man had referred to his discovery; and now,glancing at Harley, I saw that his face had grown suddenly very stern.
"Show me your evidence, Inspector?" he asked, shortly.
"There can be no objection," returned the Inspector.
Opening the bag, he took out a rifle!
Paul Harley's hands were thrust in his coat pockets, By the movementof the cloth I could see that he had clenched his fists. Here wasconfirmation of my theory!
"A Service rifle," said the Inspector, triumphantly, holding up theweapon. "A Lee-Enfield charger-loader. It contains four cartridges,three undischarged, and one discharged. He had not even troubled toeject it."
The Inspector dropped the weapon into the bag with a dramatic movement.
"Fancy theories about bat wings and Voodoos," he said, scornfully,"may satisfy you, Mr. Harley, but I think this rifle will prove moresatisfactory to the Coroner."
He picked up the bag and walked out of the library.
Harley stood posed in a curiously rigid way, looking after him. Evenwhen the door had closed he did not change his position at once. Then,turning slowly, he walked to an armchair and sat down.
"Harley," I said, hesitatingly, "has this discovery surprised you?"
"Surprised me?" he returned in a low voice. "It has appalled me."
"Then, although you seemed to regard my theory as sound," I continuedrather resentfully, "all the time you continued to believe Colin Camberto be innocent?"
"I believe so still."
"What?"
"I thought we had determined, Knox," he said, wearily, "that a man ofCamber's genius, having decided upon murder, must have arranged for anunassailable alibi. Very well. Are we now to leap to the other endof the scale, and to credit him with such utter stupidity as to placehanging evidence where it could not fail to be discovered by the mostidiotic policeman? Preserve your balance, Knox. Theories are wildhorses. They run away with us. I know that of old, for which very reasonI always avoid speculation until I have a solid foundation of fact uponwhich to erect it."
"But, my dear fellow," I cried, "was Camber to foresee that the floor ofthe hut would be taken up?"
Harley sighed, and leaned back in his chair.
"Do you recollect your first meeting with this man, Knox?"
"Perfectly."
"What occurred?"
"He was slightly drunk."
"Yes, but what was the nature of his conversation?"
"He suggested that I had recognized his resemblance to Edgar Allan Poe."
"Quite. What had led him to make this suggestion?"
"The manner in which I had looked at him, I suppose."
"Exactly. Although not quite sober, from a mere glance he was able todetect what you were thinking. Do you wish me to believe, Knox, thatthis same man had not foreseen what the police would think when ColonelMenendez was found shot within a hundred yards of the garden of theGuest House?"
I was somewhat taken aback, for Harley's argument was strictly logical,and:
"It is certainly very puzzling," I admitted.
"Puzzling!" he exclaimed; "it is maddening. This case is like a Syrianvillage-mound. Stratum lies under stratum, and in each we meet withevidence of more refined activity than in the last. It seems we have yetto go deeper."
He took out his pipe and began to fill it.
"Tell me about the interview with Madame de Staemer," he directed.
I took a seat facing him, and he did not once interrupt me throughout myaccount of Inspector Aylesbury's examination of Madame.
"Good," he commented, when I had told how the Inspector was dismissed."But at least, Knox, he has a working theory, to which he sticks like anexpress to the main line, whereas I find myself constantly called uponto readjust my perspective. Directly I can enjoy freedom of movement,however, I shall know whether my hypothesis is a house of cards or aserviceable structure."
"Your hypothesis?" I said. "Then you really have a theory which isentirely different from mine?"
"Not entirely different, Knox, merely not so comprehensive. I havecontented myself thus far with a negative theory, if I may so expressit."
"Negative theory?"
"Exactly. We are dealing, my dear fellow, with a case of bewilderingintricacies. For the moment I have focussed upon one feature only."
"What is that?"
"Upon proving that Colin Camber did not do the murder."
"Did _not_ do it?"
"Precisely, Knox. Respecting the person or persons who did do it, Ihad preserved a moderately open mind, up to the moment that InspectorAylesbury entered the library with the Lee-Enfield."
"And then?" I said, eagerly.
"Then," he replied, "I began to think hard. However, since I practisewhat I preach, or endeavour to do so,
I must not permit myself tospeculate upon this aspect of the matter until I have tested my theoryof Camber's innocence."
"In other words," I said, bitterly, "although you encouraged me tounfold my ideas regarding Mrs. Camber, you were merely laughing at meall the time!"
"My dear Knox!" exclaimed Harley, jumping up impulsively, "please don'tbe unjust. Is it like me? On the contrary, Knox"--he looked me squarelyin the eyes--"you have given me a platform on which already I have begunto erect one corner of a theory of the crime. Without new facts I can gono further. But this much at least you have done."
"Thanks, Harley," I murmured, and indeed I was gratified; "but where doyour other corners rest?"
"They rest," he said, slowly, "they rest, respectively, upon a bat wing,a yew tree, and a Lee-Enfield charger-loader."
CHAPTER XXX
THE SEVENTH YEW TREE
