The Attic Murder by S. Fowler Wright (read me like a book txt) 📕

MISS WESTON entered the witness-box.

She took the oath, and gave her name and address, with a cool self-possession which suggested to Mr. Huddleston’s experienced glance that she might be a formidable obstacle to his client’s freedom, if she should have anything damning against him to which she would be prepared to swear.

But Mr. Peter Entwistle looked at her, and was undisturbed. He could not recall having seen her previously, and he decided that she was not one whom he would quickly forget. Anyway, he had a defence, when the time to show it should come, by which he hoped to bring a more worried look on to Inspector Combridge’s face than it now bore — and even now he did not appear to be particularly well-content.

Meanwhile Miss Weston was saying that she was employed by the Texall Enquiry Agency. In the course of her duties with them, she had taken an attic-room at No. 17 Vincent Street, in the name of Mary Jones, about two months ago.

“With what instructions did you go there?”

“I was to make the acquaintance of Mr. Rabone, and to endeavour to discover whether he were in any way concerned in certain events which had occurred at the London & Northern Bank, of which he was an inspector.”

Mr. Garrison interposed: “Am I to understand that your agency was acting on the instructions of the bank, or for private interests?”

“For the bank, of course.”

Mr. Garrison’s face cleared somewhat at this reply, but he asked again: “Then do I understand correctly that William Rabone was under the suspicion of his employers in connection with irregularities at the branches of the bank at which his inspections were made?” He turned his attention to Mr. Dunkover as he went on: “And, if so, is it a matter which-should properly be brought out in connection with the present charge?”

Mr. Dunkover replied that the magistrate understood the position correctly. He was afraid that the issue of the probity of the dead man could not be entirely avoided. It might even become a question of the first importance. But it was only right for him to say at this stage that the instructions which Miss Weston received did not necessarily convey any imputation against him. Certain irregularities had occurred — it might not be necessary to be more specific — the source of which it had become imperative to trace, and under such circumstances it might become an unpleasant necessity to scrutinize the records, and to direct enquiries of other kinds upon a number of officials who would normally be above suspicion, and most of whom must be innocent and upright men.

Mr. Garrison said, very well. He was quite sure that counsel would avoid any imputation — especially against a man who could no longer defend his own integrity — which was not relevant to the present charge.

The examination proceeded.

“You did, in fact, Miss Weston, establish a considerable degree of intimacy — using the word, of course, in a quite innocent sense — with William Rabone?”

Miss Weston’s reply paused.

“I don’t think,” she said, “that the word intimacy would be quite accurate, however you use it. He was never in any sense confidential with me. He professed friendship — or something more. You may say that.”

“May we say that you appeared to have won his affections, but that you had not advanced to a point at which his confidence was equally given?”

“I should put it differently. I should say he acted toward me as, under such circumstances, it was normal for him to do.”

Mr. Dunkover perceived clearly that, whatever William Rabone’s feelings may have been, on her side, Miss Weston’s affections had not been won. He was conscious of a slight irritation at the exactness of definition that the witness required, when he had been endeavouring to do no more than to lead her smoothly over the unavoidable preliminaries to the point where her evidence became important to the present case.

But he was pleased to observe, without appearing to do so, that Miss Weston’s evidence had already caused an interchange of whispered words between Mr. Huddleston and his instructing solicitor, and that the latter gentleman was now occupied in a similar colloquy with Peter Entwistle over the rail of the dock.

Evidently the suggestion that William Rabone might be shown to have been involved in some conspiracy to defraud the bank, whether or not he may have been already known to be of that character by the defence, indicated a line of attack proposing an illicit connection between their client and the murdered man, or even a possible motive for the crime, which they saw that they must be wary to meet.

Mr. Dunkover went on: “Perhaps it may be sufficient to say that your relations as a fellow-lodger with William Rabone reached a superficial familiarity, of which he would have taken some further advantage had he been permitted to do so.”

As Miss Weston received this amended definition in a silence which might be taken for assent, he continued quickly: “And during this time is it correct to say that you occupied one of the two attic rooms which constitute the top floor of Mrs. Benson’s house, and that William Rabone had the other?”

“Yes.”

“And did that contiguity enable you to observe any unusual or suspicious circumstance?”

“The second night after I took the room, I heard a noise that sounded like someone corning cautiously over the roof, and then entering through the window of Mr. Rabone’s room. Then I heard voices in his room — his own and one other’s, if not more — which almost at once became very low. I supposed that he had given a warning that my room had become occupied.

“He or they who had come left after about half an hour, very quietly. It was a dark night, and without opening my window, which I hesitated to do, I could learn nothing more, except that whoever had come returned across the front of my window — that is that they went in the direction of Windsor Terrace.”

“And were these visits repeated?”

“The same thing happened again about three weeks later, but on that occasion they were so quiet that I did not wake until I heard voices, very low, in Mr. Rabone’s room. I had kept my own window closed and bolted since T had known that men were liable to be prowling about the roofs in the night, but when I heard the voices I got out and loosened it, so that it would open without noise — it was a dormer window, opening from side hinges — and when a man came out of Mr. Rabone’s window, and went back the same way as before, I opened it, and followed him as closely as I safely could without being observed.

“The night was cloudy, but not very dark. I could not see the man with any distinctness — he went faster than I, and got farther away as he went on — but I counted the windows, and was sure that he went in at number thirteen.”

“Beyond these singular incidents, did you observe or hear anything of an unusual nature prior to the day preceding the death of William Rabone?”

“No. Nothing till the evening before.”

“And then? Will you tell the court what occurred in your own way?”

“Mr. Rabone came in earlier than usual — about six o’clock. It had been understood that he would do so, and that he wanted to talk to me. He had made it plain that he didn’t want Mr. Hammerton to be there, and he went upstairs when Mr. Rabone came in, so that we had a long time alone.

“The conversation didn’t go at all as I had expected it would. He said almost at first that he had found out who I was, and that I was spying on him. He made out that he had known all along, though I didn’t think that was true. But he didn’t seem to care, or to resent it at all. He treated it more as a joke.

“He said that I had been wasting my time, and that he had written to the general manager of the bank. He said he was going to make him an offer, and if it were taken in the right way, he could save the bank many thousands of pounds, besides more worry than it was good for bank directors to have; but, of course, he wasn’t going to do it for nothing.

“He said, anyway, that he didn’t care. It would be their funeral, not his. Even if they wouldn’t come to terms, they couldn’t do more than dismiss him, and he was thankful to say that he wasn’t poor enough to mind that. Whatever else happened, he would resign. When he found that they were putting people to spy on him, it was time to bring things to an end, which he meant to do.

“Then he went on to say that I needn’t worry about the office again, as he was going to give me a better life than that of a common spy. He would go abroad, and begin to spend money, instead of working all the time, as he had been doing till then, and I could share his life, as he seemed to feel sure that I should be willing to do.

“Even when I raised difficulties, he seemed to think that I only stood out because I wasn’t sure that he would do all