The Simpkins Plot Part 36

"Is it likely that, knowing his niece to be a murderess, or at all events believing her to be a murderess, a judge--a judge, mind you, J.

J.--would go and stay in the house with her, and kiss her?"

"It was she who kissed him," said Meldon, "but that's a minor point. I see your difficulty now, Major, and I quite admit there's something in it, or appears to be something in it to a man like you who doesn't understand the legal point of view."

"No point of view can alter facts," said the Major, "supposing they are facts, which of course they're not."

"Yes, it can," said Meldon. "To the legal mind a fact ceases to be a fact the moment a properly qualified court has decided the other way.

The judge may be, in this particular case he is, as we know, absolutely convinced that his niece is a murderess. But a jury says she isn't, and so from a legal point of view she's a perfectly innocent and upright woman. The judge can't hang her. He can't even warn her not to do it again. He is bound, whatever his private feelings and convictions are, to accept the jury's verdict at its face value, and to treat his niece exactly as he did before all the unpleasantness arose."

"He needn't kiss her," said the Major.

"If he's a consistently just man and was on what we may call kissing terms with her before," said Meldon, "he'll of course kiss her again afterwards. He can't do anything else. In the eye of the law--that's what I mean by the legal standpoint--she's an innocent woman. Now the judge's whole position in society and even his income depends on his keeping up the theory that the law is infallible. Whatever you and I as private individuals may do, a judge has only one course open to him.

He must take the view that the law takes. That's why I say that it's quite natural for Sir Gilbert to go and stop with his niece and kiss her, though, as I said before, it was really she who kissed him. If he didn't, he'd be admitting publicly that the law was wrong, and he can't do that without giving himself and his whole position away hopelessly."

"It doesn't strike me as a bit natural," said the Major. "In fact, it's quite impossible. That's why I say--"

"I can understand your feeling," said Meldon. "Indeed I was a good deal surprised at first; but when I came to think it all out, and to realise the sort of way the judge would look at it, I saw, as you'll probably be able to see some time tomorrow--"

"No. I won't. I'll never see that. It's absurd to suppose--"

"I don't deny," said Meldon, "that when we consider Sir Gilbert Hawkesby as a private individual, separating for a moment the man from the judge, we must credit him with the feeling that Miss King is rather a--what the French would call a _mauvais sujet_."

"A what?"

"A black sheep," said Meldon, "a disgrace to the family. The sort of relation whom one is inclined to keep in the background as much as possible. I am relying on that feeling to secure the help of the judge."

"For what?"

"To marry Miss King to Simpkins, of course. The thing we've been at all along."

"He won't do that. No man living would marry his niece to Simpkins."

"That depends on the nature of the niece. There are nieces--there's no use denying it, Major, because it's unfortunately true. There are nieces that a man would be glad to see married to any one. And there's a great deal to be said in favour of the Simpkins alliance in this particular case."

"No, there isn't. The man is a cad."

"I don't think nearly so badly of Simpkins as you do, Major. I've told you that before. But, even granting what you say is true, the judge probably argues that Miss King with her record can't expect anything better. He'll be glad enough to get Simpkins for her. He'll recollect that Ballymoy is a frightfully out-of-the-way place, and that if Miss King is married to a man who lives here none of her friends will ever see any more of her. That's exactly what he wants; and so I confidently expect that, once the position is explained to him, he'll simply jump at the chance."

"Do you mean to say," said the Major--"I am now supposing that all your ridiculous ideas are true, and that Miss King will really--"

He hesitated.

"Kill Simpkins?" said Meldon. "That's what you want done, isn't it?"

"Do you mean to say that you think the judge will go out of his way to encourage her to commit another crime?"

"It's not the business of a judge to prevent crime," said Meldon. "You mustn't mix him up with the police. The police have to see that people don't do what's wrong. Judges have to punish them afterwards for what the police fail to stop them from doing. The judge won't step out of his proper sphere and start doing police work. If he did there'd be endless confusion. And besides that, I don't expect the judge will think that she means to kill Simpkins. He doesn't understand as we do that she is acting in the interests of her art. She probably, in fact certainly, hasn't told him what she told me--that she has come to Ballymoy with the intention of going on with her work. He'll think that the narrow shave she had over the Lorimer affair will have given her a lesson, and that from now on she'll want to settle down and live a quiet, affectionate kind of life. When she kissed him in that spontaneous way this morning, what do you suppose was pa.s.sing through his mind? What was he thinking? Remember that he hadn't seen her since the day of the trial, and then ask yourself what thoughts those two kisses would suggest to him."

"I don't know. That she was glad to see him, I suppose."

"A great deal more than that. A judge doesn't stop short at those superficial views of things. He looks deep down into the more recondite emotions of the human heart. As soon as he felt those kisses he said to himself: 'Here is a poor girl who's really sorry for what she's done--'"

"I thought you said he didn't believe she'd done it. I certainly don't."

"As a judge he doesn't; but I'm speaking of him now as an uncle, a simple unofficial uncle. As an uncle he can't help recollecting poor Lorimer, but he'll want to give his niece every possible fair play, and as soon as she showed signs of penitence--her kisses were a pretty convincing sign of penitence, considering the way he summed up against her--he'd be all for burying the past and letting her get a fresh start in life if she could."

"Of course I don't attach the smallest importance to anything you've said. I don't believe, in the first place, that Miss King is Mrs.

Lorimer. I don't believe any judge would try to hang his own niece. I don't believe, if he had tried her, he'd go and stop in the house with her afterwards, and I'm perfectly certain he wouldn't kiss her. But you apparently like to pretend to me that you do believe all the rot you've been talking, and that being so, I'd rather like to know what you intend to do next."

"It doesn't in the least matter to you what I do," said Meldon. "If I'm the kind of drivelling idiot you make out, my actions are of no importance, either to you or to any one else."

"All the same, I'd like to know what they're going to be."

"Why?"

"So that I can do my best to prevent their doing any irreparable mischief, if possible; though I don't expect it is possible."

"I shall do no irreparable mischief to any one," said Meldon; "except Simpkins; and you always said you wanted him poisoned."

"I never said such a thing."

"Keep cool, Major. There's no use losing your temper. You and Doyle and O'Donoghue all said you'd be glad to gloat over Simpkins' corpse.

If you hadn't said so I shouldn't be taking all this trouble. If I didn't still believe that you hate Simpkins I should drop the matter at once. After all, it's no business of mine."

"Then do drop it. Like a good man, J. J., leave Miss King alone, and let the judge fish in peace."

"No; I won't. I'll see the thing through now I'm this far, and within easy reach of success. I don't want to have you reproaching me afterwards for going back on my word."

"I won't reproach you. I promise not to."

"You'd mean not to; but when the present flurry is over, and when Simpkins begins to annoy you again about the fishing and other things, you won't be able to help reproaching me. Even if you refrain from actual words I shall see it in your eye. I can't go through life, Major, haunted by your eye with a mute, unspoken reproach in it."

Major Kent sighed heavily.

"Then what do you mean to do?" he asked.

"I shall see the judge to-morrow," said Meldon, "and--"

"I advise you not to. He's sure to have found out about the paraffin oil by that time."

"I'm prepared for that. There may be some slight temporary unpleasantness, but that will pa.s.s away at once when the judge hears the proposal that I have to make."

"What's that?"

"That he should encourage the marriage between Simpkins and his niece.

I shall explain to him that it is very much to his own interest to do so, and of course he'll see the force of what I say at once. I shan't mention the ultimate fate of Simpkins. I don't suppose he'd care much if I did. He can't be particularly keen on preserving Simpkins' life, for he doesn't know him. Still it is best to avoid all risks, and I shall treat the marriage as the ordinary conventional love-match, without hinting at any connection between it and Miss King's peculiar art. When I've settled things up with him--that'll be about twelve or one o'clock, if I get at him before he starts fishing for the day--I shall go down to the village and get a hold of Simpkins. He'll be in his office, I expect. I shall lunch with him, and then lead him up and lay him at Miss King's feet."

"Will he go for you? He hasn't shown any great eagerness for the match so far."