The Clue of the Twisted Candle, Edgar Wallace [most read books TXT] 📗
- Author: Edgar Wallace
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“Most certainly,” said the other coolly.
“Would you swear that you have not seen Vassalaro for a week?”
“Certainly,” smiled the Greek.
“That you did not in fact see him last night,” persisted T. X., “and interview him on the station platform at Lewes, that you did not after leaving him continue on your way to London and then turn your car and return to the neighbourhood of Beston Tracey?”
The Greek was white to the lips, but not a muscle of his face moved.
“Will you also swear,” continued T. X. inexorably, “that you did not stand at the corner of what is known as Mitre's Lot and re-enter a gate near to the side where your car was, and that you did not watch the whole tragedy?”
“I'd swear to that,” Kara's voice was strained and cracked.
“Would you also swear as to the hour of your arrival in London?”
“Somewhere in the region of ten or eleven,” said the Greek.
T. X. smiled.
“Would you swear that you did not go through Guilford at half-past twelve and pull up to replenish your petrol?”
The Greek had now recovered his self-possession and rose.
“You are a very clever man, Mr. Meredith—I think that is your name?”
“That is my name,” said T. X. calmly. “There has been, no need for me to change it as often as you have found the necessity.”
He saw the fire blazing in the other's eyes and knew that his shot had gone home.
“I am afraid I must go,” said Kara. “I came here intending to see Mrs. Lexman, and I had no idea that I should meet a policeman.”
“My dear Mr. Kara,” said T. X., rising and lighting a cigarette, “you will go through life enduring that unhappy experience.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I say. You will always be expecting to meet one person, and meeting another, and unless you are very fortunate indeed, that other will always be a policeman.”
His eyes twinkled for he had recovered from the gust of anger which had swept through him.
“There are two pieces of evidence I require to save Mr. Lexman from very serious trouble,” he said, “the first of these is the letter which was burnt, as you know.”
“Yes,” said Kara.
T. X. leant across the desk.
“How did you know?” he snapped.
“Somebody told me, I don't know who it was.”
“That's not true,” replied T. X.; “nobody knows except myself and Mrs. Lexman.”
“But my dear good fellow,” said Kara, pulling on his gloves, “you have already asked me whether I didn't burn the letter.”
“I said envelope,” said T. X., with a little laugh.
“And you were going to say something about the other clue?”
“The other is the revolver,” said T. X.
“Mr. Lexman's revolver!” drawled the Greek.
“That we have,” said T. X. shortly. “What we want is the weapon which the Greek had when he threatened Mr. Lexman.”
“There, I'm afraid I cannot help you.”
Kara walked to the door and T. X. followed.
“I think I will see Mrs. Lexman.”
“I think not,” said T. X.
The other turned with a sneer.
“Have you arrested her, too?” he asked.
“Pull yourself together!” said T. X. coarsely. He escorted Kara to his waiting limousine.
“You have a new chauffeur to-night, I observe,” he said.
Kara towering with rage stepped daintily into the car.
“If you are writing to the other you might give him my love,” said T. X., “and make most tender enquiries after his mother. I particularly ask this.”
Kara said nothing until the car was out of earshot then he lay back on the down cushions and abandoned himself to a paroxysm of rage and blasphemy.
CHAPTER V
Six months later T. X. Meredith was laboriously tracing an elusive line which occurred on an ordnance map of Sussex when the Chief Commissioner announced himself.
Sir George described T. X. as the most wholesome corrective a public official could have, and never missed an opportunity of meeting his subordinate (as he said) for this reason.
“What are you doing there?” he growled.
“The lesson this morning,” said T. X. without looking up, “is maps.”
Sir George passed behind his assistant and looked over his shoulder.
“That is a very old map you have got there,” he said.
“1876. It shows the course of a number of interesting little streams in this neighbourhood which have been lost sight of for one reason or the other by the gentleman who made the survey at a later period. I am perfectly sure that in one of these streams I shall find what I am seeking.”
“You haven't given up hope, then, in regard to Lexman?”
“I shall never give up hope,” said T. X., “until I am dead, and possibly not then.”
“Let me see, what did he get—fifteen years!”
“Fifteen years,” repeated T. X., “and a very fortunate man to escape with his life.”
Sir George walked to the window and stared out on to busy Whitehall.
“I am told you are quite friendly with Kara again.”
T. X. made a noise which might be taken to indicate his assent to the statement.
“I suppose you know that gentleman has made a very heroic attempt to get you fired,” he said.
“I shouldn't wonder,” said T. X. “I made as heroic an attempt to get him hung, and one good turn deserves another. What did he do? See ministers and people?”
“He did,” said Sir George.
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