"And not leave it again. There, my friend, is your corroboration."
After this thundering lie, Dr. Fell looked as benevolent as Old King Cole. Spinelli's shoulders jerked.
"You mean — I can go? You're not going to hold me? Even as a material witness?"
"You may go. Get out of the country in forty-eight hours, and you shall not be held."
A sort of wild, malignant hope was in Spinelli's face.
He had drawn himself back, with one hand against his chest. You could see that he was thinking fast, sifting chances, wondering, feeling for a trap; but he could not help saying: "Say, you told me a week! A week to leave the country, that's what you said. A week—"
"Man," interposed Dr. Fell softly, "will you never let well-enough alone? There are a number of dangerous questions I could have insisted on your answering; and you evaded them. Very well. Since I don't believe you shot Depping, I am willing to let that pass. But, by God, my friend! — if you question me, or argue with me, or try to quibble about time limits, you will get no mercy at all" He struck the handle of his stick on the table. "Speak up! What's it to be? Freedom, or gaol?"
"Oh, I’ll go! Listen, governor, please! I didn't mean anything. I wasn't trying to give you any back-talk…" The man spoke with a sort of eager and slobbering whine. "All I meant was — well, it's sudden. And I'd like," here he spoke slowly, as though he were watching the doctor with furtive care to see the effect of his words, "I'd naturally like to speak with my mouthpiece — my lawyer — and sort of — arrange things, you know; but he's tied up here, and I thought maybe I might have more time. That's all I meant."
For an instant, as the doctor bent over to pick up a matchbox he had knocked on the floor, Hugh saw the faintest twitch of a smile under his moustache. With a grunt Dr. Fell hoisted himself again.
"Humph. Well, I see no objection to that. Unless, of course, it comes from Mr. Langdon? I think he said a while ago that your conduct was insufferable, and that he was inclined to wash his hands of—"
Langdon was instantly all smiles and deprecation.
For some reason he seemed as relieved as Spinelli at the turn matters had taken. He almost clucked. Rolling bis dog's eyes about, talking with a glutinous ease, he assured them that his first duty (after all) was to his client; that he had spoken with unintentional warmth, and under pardonable stress; finally, that he would be most happy to assist his client with any advice in his power.
"I mean," insisted Spinelli, still watching Dr. Fell, "could you let us talk now — in private? Listen, if Fve got to get out of England in a hurry, then I won't have time to see him…!"
The doctor seemed reluctant, but allowed himself to be persuaded. Murch, who was plainly mystified, agreed. The drawing-room was put at the disposal of Spinelli and Langdon, and they were ushered out by the constable. Langdon stood in the doorway to deliver a little speech, flashing his smile and assuring them that he would be only a few minutes; then he faded out after Spinelli with a rather ghostly effect of disappearance. The door closed.
Inspector Murch watched it close. He swung round on Dr. Fell.
"Well, sir! You'm got some idea in this! What is it? Ah, but now yon pair do have a chance to put their heads together!"
"Yes," agreed the doctor. "Never have I accomplished a design with less trouble. They clamored for it. Gentlemen, the game is getting rapid now, and somebody is going to lose a number of tricks in a very short time. I wonder—"
"Eh, sir?"
"I wonder," said the doctor musingly, and poked at the table with his cane, "whether Spinelli is still wearing his bullet-proof vest? I rather suspect he will find it valuable before long. Steady, now! In the meantime, I want to talk about ladies’
CHAPTER XIV
The Devil and Maw Standish
Uneasily Murch rubbed a hand across his sandy cropped hair. He glanced at the bishop, as though he wondered whether such matters should be discussed in the episcopal presence.
"About ladies, sir? You mean — what Mr. Langdon said about a lady from hereabouts? Ah, ah! S'help me, I hate to say it—!"
The bishop, who all this time had been staring at the windows, turned heavily. His face looked dull and uncertain.
"Is all this necessary?" he asked. "I confess, doctor, that I am — much troubled. And confused. Villainy— ah — in general I have always regarded as an abstract thing, like a chemical reaction. Seeing it here…"
"Nevertheless, we have got to talk about it. Those remarks between Spinelli and Langdon, especially the things they didn't say, were the most revealing clues we have had up to this time. I am interested now not so much in what things were said, as why they were said.
H'm." A thoughtful sniff rumbled in the doctor's nose. "For instance, Langdon's insistent statement that a lady from what he calls 'your charming community' was prepared to run away with Depping. True or untrue— why did he say it? Definitely he had some purpose, in desiring that everybody should know he knew it. I don't think we can doubt that Langdon knew a great deal more about Depping than he was willing to tell us. But he chose that little item to parade before us."
To throw suspicion on a woman, one would think," suggested the bishop. To let us know he knew more about the murder than he was wilting to tell."
"And yet I doubt it. Surely it leads in another direction as well… It's an unpleasant business, but I think we shall have to listen to a little gossip and opinion. Humph, brr-r, yes. Preferably strong-minded gossip and opinion. Inspector, will you step outside and tell the buder to ask Mrs. Standish to step downstairs? We haven't yet heard her views. And I lack something. I know who the murderer, is, but—"
The bishop.lifted his head. "You know, doctor?"
"I'm afraid I do. I knew it this afternoon. You see," Dr. Fell's hands slid out and played with the silver inkstand, "you see, the murderer made one terrific slip, which has not received the proper attention… Never mind. We can discuss that later. Stop a bit, Inspector! Before you go, in case Spinelli and Langdon should get through their conversation prematurely, you must have your instructions."
"Yes, sir?" said Murch gruffly.
"When Spinelli comes back to this room, you will be informed that neither you nor your constable will be needed further tonight. Both of you will leave here, ostentatiously…" "Ah! And follow Spinelli?"
"Tut, tut, Nothing of the kind. Those uniforms of yours would be spotted half a mile, especially if Spinelli has reason to believe he is under surveillance. The constable will go home. You, after pretending to do so, will take a long way round and go to the Guest House. This is merely a guess of mine, but we shall have to play a long chance."
Murch stroked his moustache. "But there's nobody at the Guest House, sir! You be and sent the man Storer away to the 'Bull'—"
"Exactly. You won't go inside, but keep in concealment close to the house, and watch what may happen. Meanwhile…"
He turned to Hugh Donovan, and smiled quizzically. "You look like a stout young fellow who could take care of himself if it came to trouble. So I’ll tell you why I wanted you here to listen to what we've heard tonight. You've — hum — studied academic criminology, they tell me." He coughed meaningly, and as Hugh met the glance over the doctor's spectacles he knew that this fat bandit knew his own particular guilty secret. "Would you like to try a little practical work?"
"Would I!" said Hugh fervently.
"Think you could follow Spinelli wherever he went, and keep out of sight?"
"Absolutely."
"I don't like to do this, but you're the only person here who might conceivably do it. And before you agree, I want to impress on you exactly what you're doing." Dr. Fell looked sharply at him, at the bishop, and at the scowling Inspector Murch. "If I'm right, you see, that man Spinelli is going to walk straight into a death trap."