Herbert Jenkins - Malcolm Sage, Detective

"I don't remember what I said. I think for the time I was insane. Hehad actually offered her money, notes. He had drawn them out of thebank on purpose." Again he stopped, as if the memory of the insultwere too much for him.

"And you said?" suggested Malcolm Sage, twirling the wineglassslowly between his thumb and finger.

"I probably said what any other man would have said under similarcircumstances." There was a quiet dignity about the way in which heuttered these words, although his fingers still continued to twitch.

"Did he threaten you, or you him?"

"I don't remember what I said; but my uncle told me that, unless Iwrote to Enid to-day giving her up and apologised to him, he wouldtelephone for his lawyer and make a fresh will, cutting me out of itentirely. I was to have until the next morning to decide, that is,to-day."

Malcolm Sage still kept his eyes averted. He contended that to lookfixedly into the eyes of anyone undergoing interrogation wascalculated to confuse him and render the replies less helpful.

"And what would your decision have been?" he asked.

"I told him that if he gave me ten years it would be the same."

"That you would not do as he wished?"

"Certainly not."

"Until this episode you were on good terms with each other?" MalcolmSage had got a dessert spoon and fork to balance on the blade of aknife.

"Yes."

"You know of no reason why your uncle should take his life?"

"None whatever."

"This episode in itself would not be sufficient to cause him tocommit suicide?"

"Certainly not. Sir James will tell you that he was a man of strongcharacter."

"Do you believe he shot himself?" Malcolm Sage seemed absorbed inthe rise and fall of the balancing silver.

"But for the locked door I should have said 'no.'"

"What were you proposing to do in the light of your refusal to breakthe engagement?"

"I had everything packed up ready. I meant to go away this morning."

"By the way, where did your uncle bank?" enquired Malcolm Sagecasually.

"At the Southern Counties and Brown's Bank, Lewes," was the reply.

"Thank you. That will do, I think, for the present. You had betterrun round to your doctor and get him to give you something to steadyyour nerves," said Malcolm Sage, with eyes that had lost theirprofessional glint. "They are all on edge."

Dane glanced at him in surprise; but there was only a cone ofbaldness visible.

"Thank you," he said. "I think I will," and he turned and left theroom. He still seemed dazed and incapable of realising what wastaking place.

Malcolm Sage rose and, walking over to the door, removed the key, examined the wards intently, then replaced it and, opening the door, walked across to the library.

Malcolm Sage found that Dawkins had completed his work, and the bodyof Mr. Challoner had been removed.

Seating himself at the table, he took the automatic pistol in hishand and deliberately removed the cartridges. Then placing themuzzle against his right temple he turned his eyes momentarily onDawkins, who, having anticipated his wishes, had already adjustedthe camera. He removed the cap, replaced it, and then quicklyreversed the plate.

Pulling the trigger, Malcolm Sage allowed his head to fall forward, his right hand, which held the pistol, dropping on the table beforehim. Dawkins took another photograph.

"Now," said Malcolm Sage to Sir James. "You shoot me through theright temple, approaching from behind. Grip my head as if youexpected me to resist."

Sir James did as he was requested, Dawkins making another exposure.

Malcolm Sage motioned Thompson to draw the curtains. Then droppingon to his knees by the library door, he took the small mirror he hadborrowed from Miss Norman and, placing it partly beneath the door, carefully examined the reflection by the aid of an electric torch.

When he rose it was with the air of a man who had satisfied himselfupon some important point. He then turned to Sir James.

"You might get those finger-prints," he said casually. "Get everyonetogether in the dining-room. See that no one leaves it for at leasta quarter of an hour. Thompson will go with you."

"Then you think it was murder?" questioned Sir James.

"I would sooner say nothing just at the moment," was the reply.

Whilst Sir James Walton and Thompson were occupied with a room-fullof domestics, talking in whispers as if in the presence of death,Malcolm Sage was engaged in a careful examination of the bottoms ofall the doors in the house by means of a mirror placed upwardsbeneath each. He also removed the keys and gave a swift look at thewards of each.

He moved quickly; yet without haste, as if his brain had entirecontrol of the situation.

One door in particular appeared to interest him, so much so that heentered the room and proceeded to examine it with great thoroughness, taking the utmost care to replace everything as he found it.

From the middle-drawer of the chest-of-drawers, he extracted fromunder a pile of clothes a thin steel object, some five or six inchesin length, wound round with a fine, strong twine. This he slippedinto his pocket and, going down into the hall, rang up the managerof the Lewes branch of the Southern Counties and Brown's Bank.

Passing into the library, he searched the drawers of the table atwhich Mr. Challoner had been found. In one of them he discovered thepass-book. Seating himself at the table, he proceeded to examine itcarefully. Turning to the pockets at either end, where cancelledcheques are usually placed, he found both were empty.

When a few minutes later Sir James and Thompson entered with thefinger-prints, Malcolm Sage was seated at the table smoking, hisgaze concentrated upon the nail of the fourth finger of his righthand. With him a contemplation of his finger-nails in generalindicated thoughtful attention; when, however, he raised the handand began to subject some particular finger-nail to a thorough andelaborate examination, it generally meant the germination of someconstructive thesis.

Taking the sheets of paper from Thompson, he went through themrapidly, then drawing a sheet of note-paper from the rack before himhe scribbled a hasty note, enclosed it with one of the fingerprintsin an envelope, which he sealed, addressed, and handed to Thompsonwith instructions to see that it was delivered without delay. Healso told him to send Peters and Dane to the library.

Three minutes later Tims swung down the drive, his face beaming. Hewas to drive to Scotland Yard and "never mind the poultry on theroad," as Thompson had phrased it.

"Have you the key of the safe, Mr. Dane?" enquired Malcolm Sage asthe young man entered, followed by Peters. Dane shook his head andlooked at Peters.

"Mr. Challoner always wore it on his key-chain, sir," said thebutler.

"Have you any objection to the safe being opened?" enquired Malcolm

Sage to Dane.

"None whatever."

"Then perhaps you will open it?" said Malcolm Sage, turning to Sir

James.

In the safe were found several bundles of letters andshare-certificates, and an old cash-box containing some loosestamps; but nothing else.

Malcolm Sage dismissed Peters and Dane, saying that he would bereturning to town after dinner. In the meantime he and Sir Jamesstrolled about the grounds, discussing the remarkable rise in thechess-world of Capablanca, whilst Dawkins was busily occupied in adarkened bath-room.

Dinner proved a far less sombre meal than luncheon. Malcolm Sage andSir James between them succeeded in placing young Dane more at hisease. The haunted, shell-shock look left his eyes, and the twitchingdisappeared from the corners of his mouth.

It was nearly nine o'clock when the distant moan of a hooterannounced to Malcolm Sage's alert ears the return of Tims. He rosefrom the table and walked slowly to the door, where for some secondshe stood with his hand upon the knob.