H. C. Sapper McNeile - The Dinner Club

“I went up to the body and turned it over. Through the shirt front was a small hole; underneath the left shoulder blade was another. Henry Granger had been shot through the heart from point-blank range; death must have been absolutely instantaneous.

“ ‘My God, Ruth!’ I muttered. ‘How did it happen?’

“ ‘Happen?’ she answered vaguely. ‘There was a man . . . the window.’

“And then she fainted. The butler, with a couple of footmen, by this time had appeared at the door, and I pulled myself together.

“ ‘Her ladyship’s maid at once,’ I said. ‘Sir Henry has been shot. Ring up a doctor, and ask him to come round immediately.’

“The butler rushed off, but I kept the two footmen.

“ ‘Wait a moment,’ I cried, picking up the revolver. ‘A man did it. Pull back the two curtains by the window, and I’ll cover him.’

“They did as I told them, pulled back the two heavy black curtains that were in front of the window. It was set back in a sort of alcove, and I had the revolver ready pointed to cover the murderer. I covered empty air; there was no one there. Then I walked over to the window and looked out. It was wide open, and there was a sheer drop of forty feet to the deserted area below. I looked upwards—I looked sideways: plain brickwork without footing for a cat.”

“ ‘Go down to the room below,’ I cried; ‘he may have got in there.’

“They rushed away to come back and tell me that not only were the windows bolted, but that they were shuttered as well. And I thought they looked at me curiously.”

He paused to relight his cigar; then he continued thoughtfully:

“I don’t quite know when I first began to feel suspicious about this mysterious man. The thing had been so sudden that for a while my brain refused to work; then gradually my legal training reasserted itself, and I started to piece things together. Ruth had come-to again, and I put one or two questions to her. She was still very dazed, but she answered them quite coherently:

“A man in evening clothes—at least, she thought he had on evening clothes—had been in the room as she came in. She heard a shot; the light went out and the window was thrown up. And then she had turned on the light just before I came in to see her husband lying dead on the floor. She knew no more. I suppose I must have looked a bit thoughtful, for she suddenly got up from her chair and came up to me.

“ ‘You believe me, Bill, don’t you?’ she said, staring at me.

“ ‘Of course, of course,’ I answered hurriedly. ‘Go and lie down now, Ruth, because we shall have to send for the police.’

“Without another word she left the room with her maid, and, after telling the footmen to wait downstairs till they were wanted, I sat down to think. Now, this isn’t a detective story; such as it is, it concerns a more interesting study than the mere detection of crime. It concerns the struggle in the soul of an upright man between love and duty. And the man was Sir Edward Shoreham.

“Unknown to me she sent for him—asked him to come at once—and he came. He was shown by the butler into the study, where I was still sitting at the desk, and he stopped motionless by the door staring at the body, which had not been moved. I was waiting for the doctor, and I got up surprised.

“ ‘The butler told me he had been shot,’ he said a little jerkily. ‘How did it happen?’

“ ‘I wasn’t expecting you, Sir Edward,’ I answered slowly. ‘But I’m glad that you’ve come. I’d like another opinion.’

“ ‘What do you mean?’ he cried. ‘Is there any mystery?’

“ ‘I’ll tell you exactly what happened as far as I know the facts,’ I said. ‘Lady Granger and her husband had a very bad quarrel to-night. Then she came to bed, and so did I. Shortly afterwards her husband came along into this room. Now, my bedroom is in the passage you have just come along, and about ten minutes after Sir Henry came in here, his wife followed him. I opened my door, because I was afraid they might start quarrelling again, and he had been drinking. I saw her come in; there was a pause, and then a revolver shot rang out.’

“ ‘Was this door shut?’ he snapped.

“ ‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘it was. I rushed along the passage and came in. I found her standing, with the revolver at her feet, staring at her husband, who was lying where he is now. She said: ‘There’s been an accident.’ And then she muttered something about a man and the window before she fainted. I went to the window, and there was no one there. I looked out; will you do the same?’

“I waited while he walked over and looked out, and after what seemed an interminable time he came back again.

“ ‘How long was it after the shot before you looked out?’ His voice was very low as he asked the question.

“ ‘Not a quarter of a minute,’ I answered, and we both stood staring at one another in silence.

“ ‘Good God!’ he said at length, ‘what are you driving at?’

“ ‘I’m not driving at anything, Sir Edward,’ I answered. ‘At least, I’m trying not to drive at it. But the man is dead, and the police must be sent for. What are we going to say?’

“ ‘The truth, of course,’ he answered instantly.

“ ‘Quite,’ I said slowly. ‘But what is the truth?’

“He turned very white, and leant against one of the old suits of armour, of which the dead man had a wonderful collection all over the house.

“ ‘Did Lady Granger see this man go out of the window?’ he asked at length.

“ ‘No, she only heard him open it. You see, she says he switched off the light. It was on when I rushed in.’

“ ‘A rope,’ he suggested.

“ ‘Impossible in the time,’ I said; ‘utterly impossible. Such a suggestion would be laughed out of court.’

“He came over and sat down heavily in a chair, and his face was haggard.

“ ‘Sir Edward,’ I went on desperately, ‘the doctor will be here shortly; the police must be sent for. We’ve got to decide something. This man didn’t go out by the door or I’d have seen him; only a fly could have gone out by the window. We’ve got to face the facts.’

“ ‘You don’t believe there was a man here at all,’ he said slowly.

“ ‘Heaven help me! I don’t,’ I answered. ‘It’s all so easy to reconstruct. The poor girl was driven absolutely desperate by what happened to-night, and by the last thing he said to her after their quarrel.’ I looked at him for a moment before going on. ‘He accused her of being in love with you.’ I said it deliberately, and he caught his breath sharply.

“ ‘Can’t you see it all?’ I continued. ‘She came in here, and she shot him; and when she’d done it her nerves gave, and she said the first thing to me that came into her head.’

“ ‘If you’re right,’ he said heavily, ‘it means that Ruth will be tried for murder!’ He got up with his hands to his temples. ‘My God! Stratton,’ he cried, ‘this is awful. Premeditated murder, too—not done blindly in the middle of a quarrel, but a quarter of an hour after it was over.’

“ ‘That’s how it would strike a jury,’ I answered gravely.

“ ‘Supposing she had done it suddenly, blindly’—he was talking half to himself—‘snatched the revolver off the table as he tried to make love to her, let’s say.’ And then he stopped and stared at me.

“ ‘Supposing that had happened, it would be better for her to say so at once,’ I said.

“ ‘But it didn’t happen,’ he answered; ‘it couldn’t have.’

“ ‘No,’ I agreed. ‘It didn’t happen; it couldn’t have. But supposing it had, Sir Edward, what then?’

“ ‘Stop, Stratton,’ he cried. ‘For Heaven’s sake, stop!’