The Clue of the Twisted Candle, Edgar Wallace [most read books TXT] 📗
- Author: Edgar Wallace
Book online «The Clue of the Twisted Candle, Edgar Wallace [most read books TXT] 📗». Author Edgar Wallace
“This is where she turned and backed,” he said, and walked slowly to the road on the left, “and this is where she stood. There is the grease from her engine.”
He stooped down and moved forward in the attitude of a Russian dancer, “And here are the wax matches which the chauffeur struck,” he counted, “one, two, three, four, five, six, allow three for each cigarette on a boisterous night like last night, that makes three cigarettes. Here is a cigarette end, Mansus, Gold Flake brand,” he said, as he examined it carefully, “and a Gold Flake brand smokes for twelve minutes in normal weather, but about eight minutes in gusty weather. A car was here for about twenty-four minutes—what do you think of that, Mansus?”
“A good bit of reasoning, T. X.,” said the other calmly, “if it happens to be the car you're looking for.”
“I am looking for any old car,” said T. X.
He found no other trace of car wheels though he carefully followed up the little lane until it reached the main road. After that it was hopeless to search because rain had fallen in the night and in the early hours of the morning. He drove his assistant to the railway station in time to catch the train at one o'clock to London.
“You will go straight to Cadogan Square and arrest the chauffeur of Mr. Kara,” he said.
“Upon what charge!” asked Mansus hurriedly.
When it came to the step which T. X. thought fit to take in the pursuance of his duty, Mansus was beyond surprise.
“You can charge him with anything you like,” said T. X., with fine carelessness, “probably something will occur to you on your way up to town. As a matter of fact the chauffeur has been called unexpectedly away to Greece and has probably left by this morning's train for the Continent. If that is so, we can do nothing, because the boat will have left Dover and will have landed him at Boulogne, but if by any luck you get him, keep him busy until I get back.”
T. X. himself was a busy man that day, and it was not until night was falling that he again turned to Beston Tracey to find a telegram waiting for him. He opened it and read,
“Chauffeur's name, Goole. Formerly waiter English Club, Constantinople. Left for east by early train this morning, his mother being ill.”
“His mother ill,” said T. X. contemptuously, “how very feeble,—I should have thought Kara could have gone one better than that.”
He was in John Lexman's study as the door opened and the maid announced, “Mr. Remington Kara.”
CHAPTER IV
T. X. folded the telegram very carefully and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket.
He favoured the newcomer with a little bow and taking upon himself the honours of the establishment, pushed a chair to his visitor.
“I think you know my name,” said Kara easily, “I am a friend of poor Lexman's.”
“So I am told,” said T. X., “but don't let your friendship for Lexman prevent your sitting down.”
For a moment the Greek was nonplussed and then, with a little smile and bow, he seated himself by the writing table.
“I am very distressed at this happening,” he went on, “and I am more distressed because I feel that as I introduced Lexman to this unfortunate man, I am in a sense responsible.”
“If I were you,” said T. X., leaning back in the chair and looking half questioningly and half earnestly into the face of the other, “I shouldn't let that fact keep me awake at night. Most people are murdered as a result of an introduction. The cases where people murder total strangers are singularly rare. That I think is due to the insularity of our national character.”
Again the other was taken back and puzzled by the flippancy of the man from whom he had expected at least the official manner.
“When did you see Mr. Vassalaro last?” asked T. X. pleasantly.
Kara raised his eyes as though considering.
“I think it must have been nearly a week ago.”
“Think again,” said T. X.
For a second the Greek started and again relaxed into a smile.
“I am afraid,” he began.
“Don't worry about that,” said T. X., “but let me ask you this question. You were here last night when Mr. Lexman received a letter. That he did receive a letter, there is considerable evidence,” he said as he saw the other hesitate, “because we have the supporting statements of the servant and the postman.”
“I was here,” said the other, deliberately, “and I was present when Mr. Lexman received a letter.”
T. X. nodded.
“A letter written on some brownish paper and rather bulky,” he suggested.
Again there was that momentary hesitation.
“I would not swear to the color of the paper or as to the bulk of the letter,” he said.
“I should have thought you would,” suggested T. X., “because you see, you burnt the envelope, and I presumed you would have noticed that.”
“I have no recollection of burning any envelope,” said the other easily.
“At any rate,” T. X. went on, “when Mr. Lexman read this letter out to you...”
“To which letter are you referring?” asked the other, with a lift of his eyebrows.
“Mr. Lexman received a threatening letter,” repeated T. X. patiently, “which he read out to you, and which was addressed to him by Vassalaro. This letter was handed to you and you also read it. Mr. Lexman to your knowledge put the letter in his safe—in a steel drawer.”
The other shook his head, smiling gently.
“I am afraid you've made a great mistake,” he said almost apologetically, “though I have a recollection of his receiving a letter, I did not read it, nor was it read to me.”
The eyes of T. X. narrowed to the very slits and his voice became metallic and hard.
“And if I put you into the box, will you swear, that you did not see that letter, nor read it, nor have it read to you, and
Comments (0)