The Cask by Freeman Wills Crofts (feel good novels .txt) 📕

new environment. At twenty, he entered Cook’s office as a courier, and, learning successively Italian, German, and Spanish, he gradually acquired a firsthand acquaintanceship with Middle and Southwestern Europe. After some ten years of this work he grew tired of the constant travelling, and, coming to London, he offered his services to a firm of well-known private detectives. Here he did so well that, on the death of the founder some fifteen years later, he stepped into his place. He soon began to specialise in foreign or international cases, for which his early training peculiarly fitted him.

But he was not much in appearance. Small, sallow, and slightly stooped, he would have looked insignificant only for the strength of the clear-cut features and the intelligence of the dark, flashing eyes. Years of training had enabled him to alter his expression and veil these telltale signs of power, and he had frequently found the weak and insipid impression thus produced, an asset in allaying the suspicions of his adversaries.

His delight in the uncommon and bizarre had caused him to read attentively the details of the cask mystery. When, therefore, he received Clifford’s telephone asking him to act on behalf of the suspected man, he eagerly agreed, and cancelled some minor engagements in order to meet the lawyers at the time appointed.

The important question of fees having been settled, Clifford explained to the detective all that was known of the case, as well as the ideas he and Heppenstall had evolved with regard to the defence.

“What we want you to do for us, Mr. La Touche,” he wound up, “is to go into the case on the assumption that Boirac is the guilty man. Settle definitely whether this is a possible theory. I think you will agree that this depends on the truth of his alibi. Therefore, test that first. If it cannot be broken down, Boirac cannot be guilty, and our line of defence won’t work. And I need hardly say, the sooner you can give us some information the better.”

“You have given me a congenial task, gentlemen, and if I don’t succeed it won’t be for want of trying. I suppose that is all today? I’ll go over these papers and make the case up. Then I fancy I had best go to Paris. But I’ll call in to see you, Mr. Clifford, before I start.”

La Touche was as good as his word. In three days he was again in Clifford’s room.

“I’ve been into this case as far as is possible this side of the Channel, Mr. Clifford,” he announced. “I was thinking of crossing to Paris tonight.”

“Good. And what do you think of it all?”

“Well, sir, it’s rather soon to give an opinion, but I’m afraid we’re up against a tough proposition.”

“In what way?”

“The case against Felix, sir. It’s pretty strong. Of course, I expect we’ll meet it all right, but it’ll take some doing. There’s not much in his favour, if you think of it.”

“What about the shock he got when the cask was opened? Have you seen the doctor about it?”

“Yes. He says the thing was genuine enough, but, sir, I’m afraid that won’t carry us so far as you seem to think.”

“To me it seems very strong. Look at it this way: the essence of a shock is surprise; the surprise could only have been at the contents of the cask; therefore Felix did not know the contents; therefore he could not have put the body in; therefore surely he must be innocent?”

“That sounds all right, sir, I admit. But I’m afraid a clever counsel could upset it. You see, there’s more than surprise in a shock. There’s horror. And it could be argued that Felix got both surprise and horror when the cask was opened.”

“How, if he knew what was in it?”

“This way, sir. What was in it was hardly what he was expecting. It might be said that he put in the body as he had seen the lady alive. But she had been dead for a good many days when the cask was opened. She would look a very different object. He would be filled with horror when he saw her. That horror, together with the fact that he would be all keyed up to act surprise in any case, would produce the effect.”

Clifford had not thought of this somewhat gruesome explanation, and the possibility of its truth made him uncomfortable. If the strongest point in Felix’s favour could be met as easily as this, it was indeed a black lookout for his client. But he did not voice his doubts to his visitor.

“If you can’t get enough to support the defence we suggest,” he said, “we must just try some other line.”

“I may get what you want all right, sir. I’m only pointing out that the thing is not all plain sailing. I’ll cross, then, tonight, and I hope I may soon have some good news to send you.”

“Thank you. I hope so.”

The two men shook hands, and La Touche took his leave. That night he left Charing Cross for Paris.

XXV Disappointment

La Touche was a good traveller, and usually slept well on a night journey. But not always. It sometimes happened that the rhythmic rush and roar through the darkness stimulated rather than lulled his brain, and on such occasions, lying in the wagon-lits of some long-distance express, more than one illuminating idea had had its birth. Tonight, as he sat in the corner of a first-class compartment in the Calais-Paris train, though outwardly a lounging and indolent figure, his mind was keenly alert, and he therefore took the opportunity to consider the business which lay before him.

His first duty obviously was to re-test Boirac’s alibi. He had learnt what the authorities had done in the matter, and he would begin his work by checking Lefarge’s investigation. For the moment he did not see how to improve on his confrère’s methods, and he could only hope that some clue would present itself