"Might I ask, Mr. Harley," he said, "what concern this is of yours?"
"I am naturally interested in anything appertaining to the death of a
client, Inspector Aylesbury."
"Oh, so you slip in ahead of me, having deliberately withheld
information from the police, and think you are going to get all the
credit. Is that it?"
"That is it, Inspector," replied Harley, smiling. "An instance of
professional jealousy."
"Professional jealousy?" cried the Inspector. "Allow me to remind you
that you have no official standing in this case whatever. You are
merely a member of the public, nothing more, nothing less."
"I am happy to be recognized as a member of that much-misunderstood
body."
"Ah, well, we shall see. Now, Mr. Camber, your attention, please."
"I say I was. I hated him, and I hate him no less in death than I hated
him living."
I think that I had never seen a man so taken aback, Inspector
Aylesbury, drawing out a large handkerchief blew his nose. Replacing
the handkerchief, he produced a note-book.
"I am placing that statement on record, sir," he said.
"Oh, I see. You decline to answer that question. Very well, I will make
a note of this." He did so. "And now," said he, "what were you doing at
midnight last night?"
"Oh, I see," said the Inspector, "This witness refuses to answer at
all."
"You are wrong," explained Colin Camber, quietly. "Ah Tsong is a
Chinaman, and his knowledge of English is very limited. He does not
understand you."
"He understood my first question. You can't draw wool over my eyes. He
knows well enough. Are you going to answer me?" he demanded, angrily,
of the Chinaman.
"No sabby, master," he said, glancing aside at Colin Camber. "Number-
one p'licee-man gotchee no pidgin."
Camber passed it to the Inspector, and the latter, having satisfied
himself that none of the chambers were loaded, peered down the barrel,
and smelled at the weapon suspiciously.
"If it has been recently used it has been well cleaned," he said, and
placed it on a cabinet beside him. "Anything else?"
The door opened and Mrs. Camber came in. She was very simply dressed,
and looked even more child-like than she had seemed before. I think Ah
Tsong had warned her of the nature of the ordeal which she was to
expect, but her wide-eyed timidity was nevertheless pathetic to
witness.
"Ysola," said Colin Camber, inclining his head toward me in a grave
gesture of courtesy, "Mr. Knox has generously forgiven me a breach of
good manners for which I shall never forgive myself. I beg you to thank
him, as I have done."
"It is so good of you," she said, sweetly, and held out her hand. "But
I knew you would understand that it was just a great mistake."
"Mr. Paul Harley," Camber continued, "my wife welcomes you; and this,
Ysola, is Inspector Aylesbury, who desires a few moments' conversation
upon a rather painful matter."
"I have heard, I have heard," she whispered. "Ah Tsong has told me."
The pupils of her eyes dilated, as she fixed an appealing glance upon
the Inspector.
In justice to the latter he was palpably abashed by the delicate beauty
of the girl who stood before him, by her naivete, and by that
childishness of appearance and manner which must have awakened the
latent chivalry in almost any man's heart.
"I am sorry to have to trouble you with this disagreeable business,
Mrs. Camber," he began; "but I believe you were awakened last night by
the sound of a shot."
"Yes," she replied, watching him intently, "that is so."
"Well, I was frightened, you understand, and I told him to find out if
all was well with my husband. He came back and told me that Colin was
writing. But the sound had alarmed me very much."
"Oh, and now perhaps you will tell me, Mrs. Camber, when and where
your husband first met Colonel Menendez?"
Every vestige of colour fled from the girl's face.
"So far as I know--they never met," she replied, haltingly.
I think that hitherto she had not fully realized the nature of the
situation; but now something in the Inspector's voice, or perhaps in
our glances, told her the truth. She moved to where Colin Camber was
sitting, looking down at him questioningly, pitifully. He put his arm
about her and drew her close.
Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat and returned his note-book to
his pocket.
"I am going to take a look around the garden," he announced.
My respect for him increased slightly, and Harley and I followed him
out of the study. A police sergeant was sitting in the hall, and Ah
Tsong was standing just outside the door.
"Show me the way to the garden," directed the Inspector.
Ah Tsong stared stupidly, whereupon Paul Harley addressed him in his
native language, rapidly and in a low voice, in order, as I divined,
that the Inspector should not hear him.
"I feel dreadfully guilty, Knox," he confessed, in a murmured aside.
"For any Englishman, fictitious characters excepted, to possess a
knowledge of Chinese is almost indecent."
Presently, then, I found myself once more in that unkempt garden of
which I retained such unpleasant memories.
Inspector Aylesbury stared all about and up at the back of the house,
humming to himself and generally behaving as though he were alone.
Before the little summer study he stood still, and:
What he had seen was painfully evident. The right-hand window, beneath
which there was a permanent wooden seat, commanded an unobstructed view
of the Tudor garden in the grounds of Cray's Folly. Clearly I could
detect the speck of high-light upon the top of the sun-dial.
The Inspector stepped into the hut. It contained a bookshelf upon which
a number of books remained, a table and a chair, with some few other
dilapidated appointments. I glanced at Harley and saw that he was
staring as if hypnotized at the prospect in the valley below. I
observed a constable on duty at the top of the steps which led down
into the Tudor garden, but I could see nothing to account for Harley's
fixed regard, until:
"Pardon me one moment, Inspector," he muttered, brusquely.
Brushing past the indignant Aylesbury, who was examining the contents
of the shelves in the hut, he knelt upon the wooden seat and stared
intently through the open window.
"Oh, I see," said Inspector Aylesbury, standing strictly upright, his
prominent eyes turned in the direction of the kneeling Harley. "One,
two, three, four, and so on will settle it, eh? If you don't mind me
saying so, it was settled already."
"Yes?" replied Harley, standing up, and I saw that his eyes were very
bright and that his face was slightly flushed. "You think the case is
so simple as that?"
"Simple?" exclaimed the Inspector. "It's the most cunning thing that
was ever planned, but I flatter myself that I have a good straight eye
which can see a fairly long way."
"Excellent," murmured Harley. "I congratulate you. Myopia is so common
in the present generation. You have decided, of course, that the murder
was committed by Ah Tsong?"
Inspector Aylesbury's eyes seemed to protrude extraordinarily.
"Surely it is palpable," continued Harley, "that of the three people
residing in the Guest House, Ah Tsong is the only one who could
possibly have done the deed."
"Who could possibly--who could possibly----" stuttered the Inspector,
then paused because of sheer lack of words.
"Review the evidence," continued Harley, coolly. "Mrs. Camber was
awakened by the sound of a shot. She immediately rang for Ah Tsong.
There was a short interval before Ah Tsong appeared--and when he did
appear he was wearing an overcoat. Note this point, Inspector: wearing
an overcoat. He descended to the study and found Mr. Camber writing.
Now, Ah Tsong sleeps in a room adjoining the kitchen on the ground
floor. We passed his quarters on our way to the garden a moment ago. Of
course, you had noted this? Mr. Camber is therefore eliminated from our
list of suspects."
The Inspector was growing very red, but ere he had time to speak Harley
continued:
"The first of these three persons to have heard a shot fired at the end
of the garden would have been Ah Tsong, and not Mrs. Camber, whose room
is upstairs and in the front of the house. If it had been fired by Mr.
Camber from the spot upon which we now stand, he would still have been
in the garden at the moment when Mrs. Camber was ringing the bell for
Ah Tsong. Mr. Camber must therefore have returned from the end of the
garden to the study, and have passed Ah Tsong's room--unheard by the
occupant--between the time that the bell rang and the time that Ah
Tsong went upstairs. This I submit to be impossible. There is an
alternative: it is that he slipped in whilst Ah Tsong, standing on the
landing above, was receiving his mistress's orders. I submit that the
alternative is also impossible. We thus eliminate Mr. Camber from the
case, as I have already mentioned."
"Eliminate--eliminate!" cried the Inspector, beginning to recover power
of speech. "Do you think you can fuddle me with a mass of words, Mr.
Harley? Allow me to point out to you, sir, that you are in no way
officially associated with this matter."
"You have already drawn my attention to the fact, Inspector, but it can
do no harm to jog my memory."
Harley spoke entirely without bitterness, and I, who knew his every
mood, realized that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Therefore I
knew that at last he had found a clue.
"I may add, Inspector," said he, "that upon further reflection I have
also eliminated Ah Tsong from the case. I forgot to mention that he
lacks the first and second fingers of his right hand; and I have yet to
meet the marksman who can shoot a man squarely between the eyes, by
moonlight, at a hundred yards, employing his third finger as trigger-
finger. There are other points, but these will be sufficient to show
you that this case is more complicated than you had assumed it to be."
Inspector Aylesbury did not deign to reply, or could not trust himself
to do so. He turned and made his way back to the house.