LITMIR.BIZ

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know this for this reason,” he continued. “You know where Harker lives. I was in attendance for nearly two hours that evening on a patient in a house opposite—I spent a good deal of time in looking out of the window. I saw Harker take a man into his house: I saw the man leave the house nearly an hour later: I recognized that man next day as the man who met his death at the Cathedral. So much for that.”

      “Good!” muttered Mitchington. “Good! Explains a lot.”

      “But,” continued Ransford, “what I have to tell you now is of a much more serious—and confidential—nature. Now, do you know—but, of course, you don’t!—that your proceedings tonight were watched?”

      “Watched!” exclaimed Mitchington. “Who watched us?”

      “Harker, for one,” answered Ransford. “And—for another—my late assistant, Mr. Pemberton Bryce.”

      Mitchington’s jaw dropped.

      “God bless my soul!” he said. “You don’t mean it, doctor! Why, how did you—”

      “Wait a minute,” interrupted Ransford. He left the room, and the two callers looked at each other.

      “This chap knows more than you think,” observed Jettison in a whisper. “More than he’s telling now!”

      “Let’s get all we can, then,” said Mitchington, who was obviously much surprised by Ransford’s last information. “Get it while he’s in the mood.”

      “Let him take his own time,” advised Jettison. “But—you mark me!—he knows a lot! This is only an instalment.”

      Ransford came back—with Dick Bewery, clad in a loud patterned and gaily coloured suit of pyjamas.

      “Now, Dick,” said Ransford. “Tell Inspector Mitchington precisely what happened this evening, within your own knowledge.”

      Dick was nothing loth to tell his story for the second time—especially to a couple of professional listeners. And he told it in full detail, from the moment of his sudden encounter with Bryce to that in which he parted with Bryce and Harker. Ransford, watching the official faces, saw what it was in the story that caught the official attention and excited the official mind.

      “Dr. Bryce went off at once to fetch Harker, did he?” asked Mitchington, when Dick had made a end.

      “At once,” answered Dick. “And was jolly quick back with him!”

      “And Harker said it didn’t matter about your telling as it would be public news soon enough?” continued Mitchington.

      “Just that,” said Dick.

      Mitchington looked at Ransford, and Ransford nodded to his ward.

      “All right, Dick,” he said. “That’ll do.”

      The boy went off again, and Mitchington shook his head.

      “Queer!” he said. “Now what have those two been up to?—something, that’s certain. Can you tell us more, doctor?”

      “Under the same conditions—yes,” answered Ransford, taking his seat again. “The fact is, affairs have got to a stage where I consider it my duty to tell you more. Some of what I shall tell you is hearsay—but it’s hearsay that you can easily verify for yourselves when the right moment comes. Mr. Campany, the librarian, lately remarked to me that my old assistant, Mr. Bryce, seemed to be taking an extraordinary interest in archaeological matters since he left me—he was now, said Campany, always examining documents about the old tombs and monuments of the Cathedral and its precincts.”

      “Ah—just so!” exclaimed Mitchington. “To be sure!—I’m beginning to see!”

      “And,” continued Ransford, “Campany further remarked, as a matter for humorous comment, that Bryce was also spending much time looking round our old tombs. Now you made this discovery near an old tomb, I understand?”

      “Close by one—yes,” assented the inspector.

      “Then let me draw your attention to one or two strange facts—which are undoubted facts,” continued Ransford. “Bryce was left alone with the dead body of Braden for some minutes, while Varner went to fetch the police. That’s one.”

      “That’s true,” muttered Mitchington. “He was—several minutes!”

      “Bryce it was who discovered Collishaw—in Paradise,” said Ransford. “That’s fact two. And fact three—Bryce evidently had a motive in fetching Harker tonight—to overlook your operations. What was his motive? And taking things altogether; what are, or have been, these secret affairs which Bryce and Harker have evidently been engaged in?”

      Jettison suddenly rose, buttoning his light overcoat. The action seemed to indicate a newly-formed idea, a definite conclusion. He turned sharply to Mitchington.

      “There’s one thing certain, inspector,” he said. “You’ll keep an eye on those two from this out! From—just now!”

      “I shall!” assented Mitchington. “I’ll have both of ‘em shadowed wherever they go or are, day or night. Harker, now, has always been a bit of a mystery, but Bryce—hang me if I don’t believe he’s been having me! Double game!—but, never mind. There’s no more, doctor?”

      “Not yet,” replied Ransford. “And I don’t know the real meaning or value of what I have told you. But—in two days from now, I can tell you more. In the meantime—remember your promise!”

      He let his visitors out then, and went back to Mary.

      “You’ll not have to wait long for things to clear,” he said. “The mystery’s nearly over!”

Chapter XVIII. Surprise

       Table of Contents

      Mitchington and the man from New Scotland Yard walked away in silence from Ransford’s house and kept the silence up until they were in the middle of the Close and accordingly in solitude. Then Mitchington turned to his companion.

      “What d’ye think of that?” he asked, with a half laugh. “Different complexion it puts on things, eh?”

      “I think just what I said before—in there,” replied the detective. “That man knows more than he’s told, even now!”

      “Why hasn’t he spoken sooner, then?” demanded Mitchington. “He’s had two good chances—at the inquests.”

      “From what I saw of him, just now,” said Jettison, “I should say he’s the sort of man who can keep his own counsel till he considers the right time has come for speaking. Not the sort of man who’ll care twopence whatever’s said about him, you understand? I should say he’s known a good lot all along, and is just keeping it back till he can put a finishing touch to it. Two days, didn’t he say? Aye, well, a lot can happen in two days!”

      “But about your theory?” questioned Mitchington. “What do you think of it now—in relation to what we’ve just heard?”

      “I’ll tell you what I can see,” answered Jettison. “I can see how one bit of this puzzle fits into another—in view of what Ransford has just told us. Of course, one’s got to do a good deal of supposing it’s unavoidable in these cases. Now supposing Braden let this man Harker into the secret of the hidden jewels that night, and supposing that Harker and Bryce are in collusion—as they evidently are, from what that boy told us—and supposing they between them, together or separately, had to do with Braden’s death, and supposing that man Collishaw saw some thing that would incriminate one or both—eh?”

      “Well?” asked Mitchington.

      “Bryce is a medical man,” observed Jettison. “It would be an easy thing for a medical man to get rid of Collishaw as he undoubtedly was got

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