The Stowmarket Mystery by Louis Tracy (best classic books of all time TXT) 📕

It was too late.

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Thenceforth, as the French say, events marched. Robert Frazer faithfully recounted Margaret’s statement to the barrister and the detective. The “documents,” copies of which Ooma sent to the ill-fated woman whose sudden accession to wealth had proved so unlucky for her, were evidently those stolen from the drawer in the writing-desk at Beechcroft.

Here, at last, was the motive of the murder laid bare.

The Japanese, by some inscrutable means, became aware that the young baronet possessed these papers, and held them in terrorem over his reputed sister. In the hands of a third person, an outsider, they were endowed with double powers for mischief. He could threaten the woman with exposure, the man with the revelation of a discreditable family secret.

He visited the library in order to commit the theft, probably acting with greater daring because he mistook the sleeping David for his cousin. Having successfully wrenched open the drawer and secured the papers, still holding in his hand the instrument used for slipping back the tiny lock, he turned to leave the room by the open window, and was suddenly confronted by the real Sir Alan, who recognised him and guessed his object in being present at that hour.

Brett had gone thus far in his spoken commentary on the affair as it now presented itself to his mind when Winter asked:

“Why do you say ‘recognised’ him, Mr. Brett? We have no evidence that Sir Alan had ever seen Ooma?”

“What, none? Search through your memory. Did not the stationmaster see a third David Hume leave the station that day when the movements of only two are known to us. What became of this third personage during the afternoon? Where did he change into evening dress? Why did Sir Alan leave documents of such grave importance in so insecure a hiding-place?”

“There is no use in asking me questions I can’t answer,” snapped the detective.

“Perhaps not. I think you said that you amused yourself in your Middle Street lodgings by taking to pieces a small electrical machine fitted together by your companion?”

“Yes, sir; but what of that?”

“Let us suppose that, instead of a complex machine he built a small arch of toy bricks, and you were well acquainted with the model whilst each brick was numbered in rotation, don’t you think you could manage to reconstruct the arch after repeated efforts?”

“I expect so.”

“Well, my dear Winter, we have now got together every material stone in our edifice. Mrs. Capella’s yielding to blackmail is the keystone of the arch. Every loose block fits at once into its proper place. The Japanese, Ooma, must have met Sir Alan and discussed this very question with him. The baronet must have unwittingly revealed the family secret, and the Jap was clever enough to perceive its value. Further, the murder was unpremeditated, the inspiration of a desperate moment, and the weapon selected shows a sort of fiendish mandate suggested by family feud. Ooma is undoubtedly—”

But Smith entered, apologetic, doubtful.

“Mr. Holden is here, sir, and says he wishes to see you immediately.”

Holden’s news was important. Capella had left Liverpool Street half an hour ago for Beechcroft, and in the same train travelled Ooma.

“Are you sure of this?” demanded Brett, excitedly springing from his chair.

“Quite certain, sir. Mr. Winter’s mate followed him to the station, and told me who the Japanese was. Besides, no one could mistake him who had ever seen either of these two gentlemen.”

He indicated Robert and David.

“Quick,” shouted the barrister. “We must all catch the next train to Stowmarket. Winter, have you your handcuffs? This time they may be needed. Smith, run and call two hansoms.”

He rushed to a bureau and produced a couple of revolvers. He handed one to Holden.

“I can trust you,” he said, “not to fire without reason. Do not shoot to kill. If this man threatens the life of any person, maim him if possible, but try to avoid hitting him in the head or body.”

To the Frazers he handed the heaviest sticks he possessed. He himself pocketed the second revolver, and picked up the peculiar walking-stick which Ooma dropped in Northumberland Avenue.

“Now,” he said, “let us be off. We have no time to lose, and we must get to Beechcroft with the utmost speed.”

Winter and he entered the same hansom.

“Why are you so anxious to prevent Capella and Ooma meeting, sir?” asked the detective, as their vehicle sped along Victoria Street.

“I do not care whether they meet or not,” was the emphatic reply. “It is now imperatively necessary that the Japanese should be placed where he can do no further harm. The man is a human tiger. He must be caged. If all goes well, Winter, this case will pass out of my hands into yours within the next three hours.”

The detective smiled broadly. At last he saw his way clearly, or thought he saw it, which is often not quite the same thing. In the present instance he little dreamed the nature of the path he would follow. But he was so gratified that he could not long maintain silence, though Brett was obviously disinclined to talk.

“By Jove,” he gurgled, “this will be the case of the year.”

The barrister replied not.

“I suppose, Mr. Brett,” continued Winter, with well-affected concern, “you will follow your usual policy, and decide to keep your connection with the affair hidden?”

“Exactly, and you will follow your usual policy of claiming all the credit under the magic of the words ‘from information received.’”

Winter could afford to be generous.

“Mr. Brett,” he cried, “there is no man would be so pleased as I to see you come out of your shell, and tell the Court all you have done. You deserve it. It would be the proudest moment of your life.”

Then the barrister laughed.

“You have known me for years, Winter,” he said, “yet you believe that. Go to! You are incorrigible!”

The detective did not trouble to extract the exact meaning from this remark. He understood that Brett would never think of entering the witness-box. That was all he wanted to know.

“Are you quite certain,” he asked, with a last tinge of anxiety in his voice, “that Ooma will be arrested to-day?”

“Quite certain, if we can accomplish that highly desirable task.”

Winter pounded the door of the hansom with his clenched fist

“Then it is done!” he cried. “I’ll truss him up like a fowl. If he tries any tricks I’ll borrow the leg-chains from Stowmarket police station.”

At Liverpool Street they all made a hasty meal. They caught the last train from London and passed two weary hours until Stowmarket was reached.

There on the platform stood the station-master. He approached Brett and whispered:

“A man who came here by the preceding train told me that you and some other gentlemen might possibly follow on. He intended to telegraph to you, but he asked me, in case you turned up, to tell you that the Japanese has gone on foot to Beechcroft, and that Mr. Capella has not arrived.”

“Not arrived!” cried Brett. He turned to Holden. “Can you have been mistaken?”

Holden shook his head. “I saw him with my own eyes,” he asseverated, “and to make sure of his destination I asked the ticket examiner where the gentleman in the first smoker was going to. It was Stowmarket, right enough.”

“There can be no error, sir,” put in the stationmaster. “Mr. Capella’s valet came by the train, and assured me that he left London with his master. Besides, the carriage is here from the Hall. It was ordered by telegraph. There is the valet himself. He imagines that Mr. Capella quitted the train on the way, and will arrive by this one. But there is no sign of him.”

The mention of the carriage brought a look of decision into the barrister’s face.

“One more question,” he said to the official. “Did you see the person described as the Japanese?”

“Yes, sir, I did. As a matter of fact, I thought it was somebody else. It was not until the stranger who arrived by the train used that name to distinguish him that I understood I was mistaken.”

The stationmaster looked into Brett’s eyes that which he did not like to say in the presence of the Frazers. Of course, he had fallen into the same error as most people who only obtained a casual glimpse of Ooma.

Brett hurried his companions outside the station. There they found the Beechcroft carriage, and a puzzled valet holding parley with the coachman and footman. David Hume’s authority was sufficient to secure the use of the vehicle, and Brett made the position easier for the men by saying that, in all probability, they would find fresh instructions awaiting them at the Hall.

Before the party drove off Winter noticed a local sergeant of police standing near.

“Shall I ask him to come with us, sir?” he said to Brett.

The barrister considered the point for an instant before replying:

“Perhaps it would be better, as we have not got a warrant.”

Winter grinned broadly again.

“Oh yes, we have,” he cried. “Mr. Ooma’s warrant has been in my breast-pocket for three days.”

“What a thoughtful fellow you are,” murmured Brett. “In that case we can dispense with local assistance. We five can surely tackle any man living.”

“What can have become of Capella?” said David Hume, when they were all seated and bowling along the road to Beechcroft.

“It is impossible to say what such a mad ass would be up to,” commented his cousin. “He has probably gone back to London from some wayside station, and failed to find his servant to tell him before the train moved on.”

“What do you think, Mr. Brett?” inquired Winter.

“I can form no opinion. I only wish Ooma was in gaol. For once, Winter, I appreciate the strength of your handcuffing policy.”

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It was almost dark by the time they reached the lodge gates. Brett, moved by impulse, stopped the carriage in the main road. The others alighted after him. Mrs. Crowe, the lodge-keeper’s wife, opened the gates, and evidently wondered why the carriage did not enter.

“Good evening, Mrs. Crowe,” said Brett, advancing. “Have you seen a telegraph messenger recently?”

“Lawk, sir,” she cried, “I didn’t recognise you in the gloom! No, sir, there’s been no messenger, only—”

Then she uttered a startled exclamation.

“Why, there’s Mr. David an’ Mr. Robert! I could ha’ sworn one of you gentlemen walked up to the house five minutes ago, an’ I wunnered you never took no notice of me. Well, of all the strange things!”

“It was a natural mistake,” said the barrister quietly.

Then he told the coachman to wait where he was until a message reached him from the house.

He did not want to disturb the visitor who had caused Mrs. Crowe to “wunner,” nor was there any use in sending the carriage back to Stowmarket. Somehow, he felt that Capella would not come to Beechcroft that night.

The five men went rapidly and silently up the avenue. As they approached the lighted library, they could see a servant parleying with the Japanese.

A motion of Brett’s hand brought the party into the shade of the sombre yews.

“You and Holden,” he said to Hume, “go round to the main entrance, proceed at once to the library door, enter the room, and lock the door behind you. Be ready with your stick, and do not hesitate to lunge hard if Ooma attacks you. You, Holden, keep the revolver handy. It must only be used to save life. The moment you appear at the door we will rush to the window, which is open. Ooma must have entered that way. You both understand?”

They nodded and walked off, clinging to the line of the trees. The others closed up. Timing their approach with perfect judgment, they crept over the gravelled road at the bend, and gained the turf in front