American Sherlocks by Nick Rennison (reading like a writer .TXT) 📕

who flees; a man with every healthy conviction against suicide, drowning himself in the river or ocean – a method of death which required a journey of several miles in night attire through busy thoroughfares or along lighted avenues, against a simpler method of drug or pistol, thus reflecting upon the logic of his whole lifetime. The woman is slain by a gunshot, in the upper story of your kinsman’s dwelling; Dr Sadler is below stairs with the butler, and every inmate of the house but the slayer and his victim is positively accounted for as absent from the scene; and Dr Haslam disappears at that instant, as is stated, since which time no trace of him is seen.’

‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘and Dr Sadler saw him at the moment following the commission of his crime.’

‘The doctor said so,’ returned Conners, significantly. ‘It seems to have occurred to no one to doubt his statement. The police are not usually so credulous.’

I made an involuntary movement under the influence of the suggestion, the blood mounting to my cheek; then I experienced as quickly a revulsion of feeling.

‘Sadler is treacherous enough and possibly a liar, but that has little bearing here,’ I responded, gloomily. ‘The woman is dead, Dr Haslam gone – doubtless dead, also, as you have stated. I can conceive of no possible solution of the matter in view of what we know, other than the conclusion of the police. Sane or mad, Dr Haslam can never speak in explanation, and, since every witness who can possibly know of the matter has been fully heard, the case is closed to us.’

‘I confess that it is confusing, in the matter of proof,’ replied Conners, ‘but let us investigate. I already know everything that the reporters can tell us. I should like to know something on my own account.’

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Let us visit Dr Sadler, and, if he will permit, inspect the premises.’

‘Surely,’ I replied. ‘Sadler does not love me, and may resent our coming, but we will go.’

‘Let him resent it,’ answered Conners, with a peculiar smile. ‘I think myself that he will do so.’

‘When shall we go?’ I asked.

He laughed as he threw aside his studio-jacket.

‘Now,’ he answered.

I was silent during our ride to Banning Street, but Conners talked cheerfully of many things. He had seemingly studied the matter, and, having arrived at some conclusion, sought to cheer me as best he could until we reached the place. In spite of this, my spirits fell, and I was not reassured as we mounted the steps of the now depressing house with its chill air and its closed shutters. Dr Sadler had done nothing to lighten the gloom which hung over it; the blinds were drawn even at the back windows, and the gate, hung to the new stone of the great post, was shut and bolted.

Our ring was answered by the familiar face of Edward Gray. The new master had evidently retained him. He ushered us into the hall, and then into the parlour. I told him to announce me and a friend.

In a few minutes Sadler entered the room, looking with some surprise at my companion, but greeting me with an attempt at warmth. He made inquiry as to the health of Mrs Barrister and my wife; he had heard of our departure, and expressed his pleasure at our return. Having said so much, he waited to learn my business, eying Conners from under his flabby lids and evidently suspecting an attorney. I could see that he was preparing to meet a declaration of war which might involve some question of property. The subject of the crime with him had become a matter of the past.

He heard my opening statement with evident relief, for his manner assumed an unusual frankness.

‘Mr Conners, Doctor, is my friend,’ I said. ‘I have told him of the depression under which we continue to labour, and how much Mrs Barrister and my wife have suffered. He is good enough to sympathize with me. He suggested that by this time you might have something to offer in the way of news. I have, therefore, ventured to bring him with me to visit you.’

‘He is very welcome, as you are,’ was the unexpected answer, ‘but, alas! I have learned nothing. The police were diligent enough at first, and now know that there is really nothing to discover but the remains of our unfortunate relative. Therefore, they seem to have lost interest in the matter.’

‘You were, of course, much distressed by the occurrence, Doctor?’ said Conners.

‘Naturally, sir,’ replied the young man.

‘Where were you when the gun was fired?’

‘I was in the lower hall, with Edward Gray, the butler. He can testify to that, and has done so.

Mrs Sands entered from the rear of the house and I asked her to go to the study for a book. She met Dr Haslam there as he came from his apartments. He had evidently heard her step in the hall and, prepared for the fateful moment, stood waiting. He killed her ruthlessly. At the noise of the report I ran upstairs to find her dead. The explosion seemed to shake the house, and the butler was too frightened to accompany me. Two officers were outside, and heard it also. Their ring at the door prevented Gray from following me.’

‘Did you ask Gray to remain below?’

The young man smiled.

‘Why, yes. I saw how he trembled, and my first thought was of burglars. It occurred to me that someone should remain below.’

‘There were other servants?’

The doctor looked annoyed. He made no reply.

‘The butler was spared the terrifying sight which afflicted you,’ continued Conners, dryly. ‘May we look over the house, Doctor? The police have done that thoroughly, of course, but I fancy you could tell us graphically of the matter, upon the very scene.’

I saw that Sadler now suspected the detective in my companion, and his eyes glittered balefully. The hatred he had always felt for me showed in every line of his