Who? Part 44

"Have you forgotten, my lord, that I told you I always had an idea that those two Frenchmen who were staying at the Red Lion Inn, were somehow implicated in the affair?"

"But what possible motive could they have had for murdering my cousin?"

demanded Cyril.

The detective's eyes appeared to wander aimlessly from one of his auditors to another.

"We are waiting. What about those Frenchmen?"

It was Amy who spoke. She moved slowly forward, and leaning her arm on the mantelpiece confronted the four men.

"You wish me to continue?" asked Judson.

"Certainly. Why not?"

The detective inclined his head and again turned towards Cyril.

"Having once discovered their ident.i.ty, my lord, their motive was quite apparent."

"Well, who are they? Out with it."

"The elder," began Judson, speaking very slowly, "is Monsieur de Brissac. The younger--" he paused.

For a moment Cyril was too stunned to speak. He could do nothing but stare stupidly at the detective. Amy guilty! Amy! It was incredible!

"Stop! Your suspicions are absurd! Do not listen to him, Inspector!" He hardly knew what he was saying. He only realised confusedly that something within him was crying to him to save her.

A wonderful light suddenly transfigured Amy's drawn face.

"Cyril, would you really do this for----"

"Hush!" He tried to silence her.

She turned proudly to the inspector.

"I don't care now who knows the truth. I killed Lord Wilmersley."

"Don't listen to her! Don't you see that she is not accountable for what she is saying?" cried Cyril. He had forgotten everything but that she was a woman--his wife.

"I killed Lord Wilmersley," Amy repeated, as if he had not spoken, "but I did not murder him."

"Does your Ladyship expect us to believe that you happened to call at the castle at half-past ten in the evening, and that during an amicable conversation you accidentally shot Lord Wilmersley?" demanded Griggs.

"No," replied Amy contemptuously, "of course not! I--" She hesitated.

"If your Ladyship had not ulterior purpose in going to Newhaven, why did you disguise yourself as a boy and live there under an a.s.sumed name? And who is this Frenchman who posed as your brother?"

Amy threw her head back defiantly. A faint colour swept over her face.

"Monsieur de Brissac was my lover. When we discovered that his Lordship was employing detectives, we went to Newhaven, because we thought that it was the last place where they would be likely to look for us. I disguised myself to throw them off the scent."

"But the description the inspector gave me of the boy did not resemble you in the least," insisted Cyril.

"It was I nevertheless. I merely cut off my hair and dyed it. See!" She s.n.a.t.c.hed the black wig from her head, disclosing a short crop of reddish curls.

"You have yet to explain," resumed the inspector sternly, "what took you to Geralton in the middle of the night. Under the circ.u.mstances I should have thought your Ladyship would hardly have cared to visit his Lordship's relations."

Ignoring Griggs, Amy turned to her husband.

"My going there was the purest accident," she began in a dull, monotonous voice, almost as if she were reciting a lesson, but as she proceeded, her excitement increased till finally she became so absorbed in her story that she appeared to forget her hearers completely. "I was horribly restless, so we spent most of our time motoring and often stayed out very late. One night a tire burst. I noticed that we had stopped within a short walk of the castle. As I had never seen it except at a distance, it occurred to me that I would like to have a nearer view of the place. In my boy's clothes I found it fairly easy to climb the low wall which separates the gardens from the park. Not a light was to be seen, so, as there seemed no danger of my being discovered, I ventured on to the terrace. As I stood there, I heard a faint cry. My first impulse was to retrace my footsteps as quickly as possible, but when I realised that it was a woman who was crying for help, I felt that I must find out what was the matter. Running in the direction from which the sound came, I turned a corner and found myself confronted by a lighted window. The shrieks were now positively blood-curdling and there was no doubt in my mind that some poor creature was being done to death only a few feet away from me. The window was high above my head, but I was determined to reach it. After several unsuccessful attempts I managed to gain a foothold on the uneven surface of the wall and hoist myself on to the window-sill. Luckily the window was partially open, so I was able to slip noiselessly into the room and hide behind the curtain. Peering through the folds, I saw a woman lying on the floor.

Her bodice was torn open, exposing her bare back. Over her stood a man who was beating her with a piece of cord which was attached to the waist of a sort of Eastern dressing-gown he wore.

"'So you thought you would leave me, did you?' he cried over and over again as the lash fell faster and faster. 'Well, you won't! Not till I send you to h.e.l.l, which I will some day.'

"At last he paused and wiped the perspiration from his brow. He was very fat and his exertions were evidently telling on him.

"'Why shouldn't I kill you now? I have my pistol within reach of my hand. It is here on my desk. Ah, you didn't know that, did you?' He gave a fiendish laugh.

"The woman shuddered but made no attempt to rise.

"I was slowly recovering from the terror which had at first paralysed me. I realised I must act at once if I meant to save Lady Wilmersley's life. The desk was behind him.

"Dropping on my hands and knees, I crept cautiously toward it. 'Kill you, kill you, that is what I ought to do,' he kept repeating.

"I reached the desk. No pistol was to be seen; yet I knew it was there.

As I fumbled among his papers, my hand touched an ancient steel gauntlet. Some instinct told me that I had found what I sought. But how to open it was the question. Some agonising moments pa.s.sed before I at last accidentally pressed the spring and a pistol lay in my hand.

"He again raised the cord.

"'Stop!' I cried.

"He swung around and as he caught sight of the pistol levelled at his head, the purple slowly faded from his face.

"Then seemingly rea.s.sured at finding that it was only a boy who confronted him, he took a step forward.

"'Who the devil are you? Get out of here!' he cried.

"'Stay where you are or I fire.'

"'What nonsense is this?' he bl.u.s.tered, but I noticed that his knees shook and he made no further effort to move.

"'Climb out of the window. There is a car waiting in the road,' I called to the girl.

"'She shall not go!' he shrieked. The veins stood out on his temples.

"I held him with my eye and saw his coward soul quiver with fear as I moved deliberately nearer him.

"'Do as I tell you. Run for your life,' I repeated.