Ashton-Kirk, Investigator Part 22

"Oh, the General Pa.s.senger Agent sent you?" said he, examining them.

"All right. What's wanted?"

"Your train stops at a station called Cordova, does it not?"

"It stops at every station on the run. Cordova's one of them."

"There is an inst.i.tution at Cordova, I believe?"

"For deaf and dumb kids--yes."

"Of course some of the people from there ride in and out with you at times."

"I don't get many of the youngsters. But the folks that run the place often come to the city."

"You are acquainted with them, of course. I mean in the way that local conductors come to be acquainted with their regular riders."

Purvis grinned.

"Say," said he. "It's hard to get acquainted with some of them asylum people. There's only a couple of them that can talk!"

"I see." Pendleton noted Ashton-Kirk's dark eyes fixed steadfastly upon the man's face as though he desired to read the remainder from his expression. "There is one of them," continued the investigator, "whom perhaps you have noticed. He's rather a small man, and wears thick gla.s.ses. He also dresses very carefully, and he wears a silk hat."

"Oh, yes," said the conductor, "I know him. He goes in and out quite often. Very polite too. Always says good day with his fingers; if the train is crowded, he's a great little fellow for getting up and giving his seat to the ladies."

"Have you ever heard his name?"

"Yes. It's Locke. He's some kind of a teacher."

Ashton-Kirk thanked the man, and with Pendleton walked through the gate. As they were descending the stairs to the street, Pendleton said:

"And now he wears a silk hat, does he? But you have not made sure of the man. You forgot to inquire if Mr. Locke favored the German dramatists."

For a moment Ashton-Kirk looked puzzled, then he burst into a laugh.

"Ah," said he, "you remember that."

"Of course I remember it. How can I forget it? You go prancing about so like a conjurer that there's not a moment that I don't expect something. If you finish by dragging the murderer from your sleeve, I'll not be at all astonished. Your methods lead me to expect some such a finale."

"To explain each step as I take it," said the investigator, "would be much more difficult than the work itself. However the time has now arrived for me to enlighten you somewhat upon this point, at least. I am quite convinced that this man Locke played a leading part in the murder of Hume. He is in a manner definitely placed, and I can speak of him without fracturing any of my prejudices."

They got into the car, and Ashton-Kirk continued to the chauffeur:

"Christie Place." Then to Pendleton, he added as the machine started, "I want to make some inquiries at the house where Spatola lived; and in order to make the matter clearer, we'll just drop in at 478."

As they proceeded along at a bounding pace, the investigator related to Pendleton what had pa.s.sed between Edyth Vale and himself a few hours before. Pendleton drew a great breath of relief.

"Of course I knew that her part in the matter was something like that," he said, "but I'm glad to hear it, just the same." He looked at his friend for a moment and then continued: "But how did you know that Edyth heard a door close immediately after the pistol shot?"

They had just drawn up in front of Hume's, and as Ashton-Kirk got out, he said:

"If you had only used your eyes as we were going over the place," said he, "you'd have no occasion to ask that question."

There was a different policeman at the door; but fortunately he knew the investigator and they were allowed to enter at once. When about half way up the stairs, Ashton-Kirk said:

"This, I think, is about the place where Miss Vale stopped when she saw the light-rays moving across the ceiling and wall of the hall. You get the first glimpse of those from this point. Remain here a moment and I'll try and reproduce what she heard--with the exception of the cry."

Pendleton obediently paused upon the stairs; Ashton-Kirk went on up and disappeared. In a few moments there came a sharp, ringing report, and Pendleton, dashing up the stairs, saw his friend standing holding open the showroom door--the one with Hume's name painted upon it.

"It's the bell," said Ashton-Kirk, pointing to the gong at the top of the door frame. "When I examined it this morning I saw that it was screwed up too tight, and knew that it would make a sound much like a pistol shot to ears not accustomed to it."

Pendleton stared in amazement at the simplicity of the thing.

"I see," said he. "While Edyth stood listening on the stairs someone opened this door!"

"Yes; someone unacquainted with the place. Otherwise he would have known of the bell."

"But how did you know that Edyth heard a door close?"

"Whoever rang the bell closed the door after him. It has a spring lock like the street door; and was locked when Miss Vale tried it a few moments later."

"You say that the ringing of the bell shows the person who rang the bell to have been unacquainted with the place. I think you must be wrong here. Spatola is acquainted with the place; he was here at the time. This is proven by the scream of the frightened c.o.c.katoo which followed the ringing of the bell."

"It was not a c.o.c.katoo that made the sound," said Ashton-Kirk. "Give me a moment and I think I can convince you of that."

The gas in the hall was lighted; the investigator stopped at the foot of the stairs leading to the fourth floor.

"Persons," he continued, "who secretly enter buildings, as a rule never trust to the lighting apparatus of the buildings. One reason for this is that it is not under their control--another that they cannot carry their light about with them."

He pointed to the lowermost step of the flight; there, as before, were the stump of candle, the burnt matches, the traces of tallow upon the wood.

"There were two or more men concerned in this crime," proceeded Ashton-Kirk, "and that is the method of lighting that they chose--a candle."

"Two men! How do you know that?" asked Pendleton.

"You shall see in a moment," replied the investigator. Then he continued: "And the candle was used not only for illumination--it served another purpose, and so supplied me with the first definite information that my searching had given me up to that time."

Pendleton looked at the discouraged little candle end, with its long black wick, the two charred splinters of pine wood and the eccentric trail of tallow droppings. Then he shook his head.

"How you could get enlightenment from those things is beyond me," he said. "But tell me what they indicated."

"The candle and the match-sticks count for little," said Ashton-Kirk.

"It is the tracings of melted tallow that possess the secret. Look closely at them. At first glance they may seem the random drippings of a carelessly held light. But a little study will show you a clearly defined system contained in them."

"Well, you might say there were three lines of it," said Pendleton, after a moment's inspection.

"Right," said Ashton-Kirk. "Three lines there are, and each follows a row of tack heads. These latter were, apparently, once driven in to hold down a step-protector of some sort which has since become worn out and been removed."

The speaker took a pad of paper and a pencil from his pocket. Across the pad he drew three lines one under the other. Then with another glance at the candle droppings upon the step, he made a copy of them that looked like this: