Percy Brebner - Christopher Quarles - College Professor and Master Detective

Later I told the following story to the professor and Zena in the empty room.

"Michael Hall, the condemned man, is an artist," I said. "The portrait of him, Professor, is a good one. I have seen him, and he impresses you at once as possessing the artistic temperament. Whether he has anything beyond the temperament, I cannot judge, but the fact remains that he has had little success. He is a gentleman, and there is something convincing in the manner in which he protests his innocence. Yet I am bound to say that every circumstance points to his guilt. Possessed of two or three hundred pounds, and an unlimited faith in himself, he married. There is one child, three years old. The money dwindled rapidly, and a year ago, to cut down expenses, he went to live at Thornfield, a village near Pershore, in Worcestershire. At Thornfield he became acquainted with an elderly gentleman named Parrish, a bookworm, something of a recluse, and an eccentric. For no particular reason, and apparently without any foundation, Mr. Parrish had the reputation of being a rich man. Generally speaking, the inhabitants of Thornfield are humble people, and the fact that Parrish had a little old silver may have given rise to the idea of his wealth. He does not appear to have had even a banking account.

"The old gentleman welcomed a neighbor of his own class, and Hall was constantly in his house. That Hall should come to Thornfield and live in a tiny cottage might suggest to anyone that he was not overburdened with this world's goods, but Hall declares that Parrish had no knowledge of his circumstances. Only on one occasion was Parrish in his cottage, and money was never mentioned between them. Yet Hall was in difficulties. He pawned several things in Pershore – small articles of jewelry belonging to his wife – giving his name as George Cross, and an address in Pershore. One evening – a Sunday evening – Hall was with Parrish. The housekeeper – Mrs. Ashworth, an elderly woman – the only servant living in the house, said in her evidence that Hall came at seven o'clock. The church clock struck as he came in. Her master expected him to supper. Hall says that he left at half-past nine, but Mrs. Ashworth said it was midnight when he went. She had gone to bed at nine – early hours are the rule in Thornfield – and had been asleep. She was always a light sleeper. She was roused by the stealthy closing of the front door, and just then midnight struck. Early next morning – they rise early in Thornfield – Mrs. Ashworth came down and found her master upon the floor of his study – dead. He had been struck down with a life-preserver, which was found in the room and belonged to Hall. The housekeeper ran out into the village street, but it seems there was nobody about, and some twenty minutes elapsed before anyone came to whom she could give the alarm.

"Hall's arrest followed. From the first he protested his innocence, but the only point in his favor appears to be the fact that he was found at his cottage, and had not attempted to run away. Everything else seems to point to his guilt. Although he says he left Parrish's house at half-past nine, he did not arrive home until after midnight. His wife innocently gave this information, and Hall, who had not volunteered it, explained his late return by saying that he was worried financially, and had gone for a lonely walk to think matters over. He admits that the life-preserver belonged to him. Mr. Parrish had spoken once or twice of the possibility of his being robbed, and that evening Hall had made him a present of the weapon, but had not told his wife that he was going to do so. The police discovered that two days before the murder a valuable silver salver belonging to Parrish had been pawned in Pershore in the name of M. Hall, and the pawnbroker's assistant identified Hall. A search among Parrish's papers after the murder resulted in the discovery of a recent will, under which all the property was left to Hall. The condemned man declared he was ignorant of this fact, but the prosecution suggested that his knowledge of it and the straits he was in for money were the motive for the crime. Except on the assumption that Hall is guilty there appears to be no motive for the murder. Nothing but this silver salver was missing."

Quarles had not interrupted me. He had listened to my narrative, his features set, his eyes closed, the whole of his mind evidently concentrated on the story. As I stopped I looked at Zena.

"I wonder the housekeeper did not look out of her bedroom window to see that it was Michael Hall who left the house," Zena said slowly.

"She slept at the back of the house," I returned.

"I had not thought of that." And then, after a pause, during which her grandfather's eyes remained fixed upon her as though he would compel her to say more, she went on: "How was it, since they are early risers in Thornfield, that Mrs. Ashworth had to wait twenty minutes before anyone came? The house isn't isolated, is it?"

"No. I understand it is in the middle of the village street."

"There may be something in that question, Wigan," said Quarles, becoming alert. "Tell me, are the house and its contents still untouched?"

"I believe so. According to Mrs. Ashworth, Mr. Parrish appears to have had only one relation living – a nephew, named Charles Eade. He lives in Birmingham, and at the trial said he knew nothing whatever about his uncle, and had not seen him for years."

"Any reason?"

"No; the family had drifted apart. I am simply stating what came out in the evidence."

"About the will," said Quarles. "Was any provision made for Mrs. Ashworth in it?"

"No; it leaves everything to Hall, and there is a recommendation to sell the books in London, except a few which are specially mentioned as being of no value intrinsically, and which Hall is advised to read. According to Hall, the old gentleman talked much about literature, and declared that the whole philosophy of life was contained in about a score of books. I have a copy of the list given in the will."

"Who witnessed the signature to the will?" Quarles asked.

"A lawyer in Pershore and his clerk. This was the only business transaction the lawyer had had with Mr. Parrish, and he knew little about him."

"I think we must go to Birmingham," said Quarles. "Sometimes there is only one particular standpoint from which the real facts can be seen, and I fancy Birmingham represents that standpoint for us. I suppose you can arrange for us to have access to Mr. Parrish's house at Thornfield, Wigan?"

"I will see about that," I answered.

"Are you sure Michael Hall is not guilty?" asked Zena.

"Were he guilty I should not have seen him," answered Quarles decidedly.

"His poor wife!" said Zena.

"Pray, dear, that we may carry sunlight to her again," said the professor solemnly.

I thought that our journey to Birmingham was for the purpose of interviewing Parrish's nephew, but it was not. Quarles got a list of the leading secondhand booksellers there.

"A bookworm, Wigan, remains a bookworm to the end of his days. Although nothing has been said about it, I warrant Mr. Parrish bought books and had them sent to Thornfield."

"He might have bought them in London," I said.

"I think it was Birmingham," said Quarles.

So far he was right. It was the third place we visited. Baines and Son was the firm, and we saw old Mr. Baines. He had constantly sold books to Mr. Parrish, of Thornfield, who had been to his shop several times, but their intercourse was chiefly by correspondence. Good books! Certainly. Mr. Parrish knew what he was doing, and never bought rubbish.

"His purchases might be expected to increase in value?" asked Quarles.

"Yes; but, forgive me, why these questions?"

"Ah! I supposed you would have heard. Mr. Parrish is dead."

"Indeed! I am very sorry to hear it."