Tell me more, I urged at last, looking into the face of the suspected criminal. Who is the victim?
At present I am keeping the affair a strict secret, he said. There are reasons, very potent reasons, why the public should not know of the tragedy. Nowadays publicity is the curse of life. At last the Home Office have recognised this. I told you that I am a holder of secrets. Well, besides myself, not more than three persons are aware of the astounding affair.
And you are suspected as the assassin? I remarked.
Unfortunately, I shall be, was his reply, and I saw that his countenance fell; I foresee it. That is why I require your aid the aid of a man who is honest, and who is a gentleman as well.
And he broke off again to chatter to Joseph, who was keeping up a continual screeching.
I am anxious to hear details of the affair, I said eagerly.
I wish I could tell you the details, he answered, with a bitter smile; but I am not aware of them myself. The affair is a mystery one of which even the police must be kept in ignorance.
Havent the police been informed?
No, was his prompt reply. In certain cases information to the police means publicity. In this case, as Ive already told you, there must be no publicity. Therefore, though a crime has been committed, it is being kept from the police, who, not knowing the facts, must only bungle the inquiries, and whose limited scope of inquiry would only result in failure.
You interest me, Mr Kirk. Relate the known facts to me, I said. Why, pray, will you be suspected of being a murderer?
Well, he said, with a long-drawn sigh, because well, because I had everything to gain by the death of the murdered person. He had filched from me a very valuable secret.
Then the murdered person was not your friend?
No; my enemy, he replied. You, Mr Holford, as an Englishman, will no doubt think it impossible that I may be arrested, tried in secret, and sent to penal servitude for life for a crime of which I am innocent. You believe that every man in this isle of unrest of ours must have a fair trial by judge and jury. Yet I tell you that there are exceptions. There are certain men in England who would never be brought before a criminal court. I am one of them.
At first I was inclined to regard Kirk as a madman, yet on looking into his face I saw an expression of open earnestness, and somehow I felt that he was telling me the curious truth.
I certainly thought there were no exceptions, I said.
I am one of the few, he replied. They dare not place me in a criminal dock.
Why?
For certain reasons and he smiled mysteriously reasons which you, if you become my friend, may some day discover. I live here in this by-road of a London suburb, but this is not my home. I have another a long way from here.
And, turning from me suddenly, he addressed questions to Joseph, asking him his opinion of me.
Wheres your coat? screeched the bird. Wheres your coat? Good night!
The whole scene was strangely weird and incongruous. Kirk at one moment speaking of a remarkable tragedy and at the next chaffing his pet.
At last, however, I fixed my host to the point, and asked him straight out what had occurred.
Well, he said, placing down his pipe and resting His protruding chin upon his right hand, as he gazed across at me, just follow me for a few moments, and Ill describe, as best I can, all that is known of the affair or, rather, all I know of it. Do you happen to know Sussex Place, Regents Park?
I replied in the affirmative. It was, as you probably know yourself, a highly respectable crescent of large houses overlooking the park. Entrance was gained from the road in the rear, for the houses faced the park, perhaps one of the pleasantest rows of residences in London. The occupiers were mostly City merchants or well-to-do ladies.
Well, he said, in one of those houses there has lived for the past five years or so Professor Ernest Greer, the well-known chemist, who, among other appointments, holds the Waynflete Professorship of Chemistry at Oxford University. Though his age is only about fifty-five, his whole career has been devoted to scientific research, with the result that he has amassed a considerable fortune from royalties gained from the new process he patented four years ago for the hardening of steel. I dare say youve often seen his name mentioned in the papers. He was a most popular man, and, with his daughter Ethelwynn, often went into society. In addition to the Regents Park house, they had a pretty seaside cottage down at Broadstairs.
Ive seen the Professors name very often in the papers, I remarked, in connection, I think, with the British Association. I read, not long ago, an account of one of his interesting lectures at the London Institution.
Then you realise his high standing, said Kirk, interpolating an aside to Joseph. Well, Mrs Greer is dead, and the household at Regents Park consists of the Professor, Ethelwynn, her maid Morgan, two housemaids, a female cook, and the butler Antonio Merli, an elderly Italian, who has been in the Professors service for nearly twenty years. On the evening before last that was Sunday at twenty minutes to five oclock, the Professor and his daughter were together in the large upstairs drawing-room, which overlooks the park, where Antonio served tea. Five minutes later Antonio re-entered and handed his master a telegram. The Professor, having read it, placed it upon the fire, and remarked that he would be compelled to go to Edinburgh that night by the 11:30 from Kings Cross, but would return in three days time, for the girl had accepted an invitation for the grand ball at Sutherland House to-morrow.
The Professor sent no reply to the message? I asked, much interested.
No; but half an hour later his actions struck his daughter as somewhat peculiar, for, having suddenly glanced up at the clock, he rose, crossed to one of the three long windows the end one and drew up the blind. Then, after a pause, he lowered it again. Then twice he pulled it up and down quickly, and returned again to where he was sitting. At least, that is his daughters story.
He signalled to somebody using the Morse code, I should say.
Exactly my theory, Mr Holford. I note that you follow me, exclaimed the friendless man. You possess a keen sense of deduction, I see!
Apparently you dont believe this statement of Miss Ethelwynns? I said.
He sniffed quickly, but did not at first reply.
The fact that he drew the blinds up and down at a preconcerted hour shows that he communicated with somebody who was awaiting the signal outside in Regents Park, he remarked at last.
Well, what then?
At eight he dined, as usual, with his daughter, and after dinner the faithful Antonio packed his kit-bag and suit-case, putting in only sufficient clothes for a stay of three days. At her fathers order Ethelwynn telephoned to the station-masters office at Kings Cross and secured a sleeping-berth in the 11:30 express for Edinburgh. At a quarter to eleven oclock he kissed his daughter good night, and went away in a cab to the station, promising faithfully to be back to take her to the ball.
And he disappeared I suppose?
No, he didnt, my companion exclaimed, as, turning to the bird, he said, Mr Holford jumps to conclusions just a little too quickly, doesnt he, Joseph? And he slowly relit his pipe, which had again gone out.