Kitabı oku: «Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective Stories», sayfa 6
CHAPTER VII
“Hullo, I say!” began Mr. Narkom, in amazement. “Why, what the dickens – ” But he was suffered to get no farther.
“You mind your P’s and Q’s! I warn you that anything you say will be used against you!” interjected sharply and authoritatively the voice of the constable. “Hawkins, you and Marlow keep close guard over these chaps while me and Mr. Simpkins looks round for the animal. I said it would be the work of gypsies, didn’t I now, Mr. Simpkins?” addressing the gamekeeper. “Come on and let’s have a look for the beast. Keep eyes peeled and gun at full cock, Mr. Simpkins, and give un both barrels if un makes to spring at us. This be a sharp capture, Mr. Simpkins – what?”
“Aye, but un seems to take it uncommon cool, Mr. Nippers – one of ’em’s larfiin’ fit to bust hisself!” replied the gamekeeper as Cleek slapped both thighs, and throwing back his head, voiced an appreciative guffaw. “Un doan’t look much loike gypsies either from t’ little as Ah can see of ’em in this tomfool loight. Wait a bit till Ah scoop up an armful o’ leaves and throw ’em on the embers o’ fire yon.”
He did so forthwith; and the moment the dry leaves fell on the remnants of the fire which the caravanners had used to cook their evening meal there was a gush of aromatic smoke, a sudden puff, and then a broad ribbon of light rushed upward and dispelled every trace of darkness. And by the aid of that ribbon of light Mr. Nippers saw something which made him almost collapse with astonishment and chagrin.
The great of the world may, and often do, forget their meetings with the small fry, but the small fry never cease to remember their meetings with the great, or to treasure a vivid remembrance of that immortal day when they were privileged to rub elbows with the elect.
Five years had passed since Mrs. Maverick Narkom, seeking a place wherein to spend the summer holidays with the little Narkoms and their nurses, had let her choice fall upon Winton-Old-Bridges and had dwelt there for two whole months. Three times during her sojourn her liege lord had come down for a week-end with his wife and children, and during one of these brief visits, meeting Mr. Ephraim Nippers, the village constable in the public highway, he had deigned to stop and speak to the man and to present him with a sixpenny cigar.
Times had changed since then; Mr. Nippers was now head constable for the district, but he still kept that cigar under a glass shade on the drawing-room whatnot, and he still treasured a vivid recollection of the great man who had given it to him and whom he now saw sitting on the ground with his coat off and his waistcoat unbuttoned, his moustache uncurled, wisps of dried grass clinging to his tousled hair, and all the dignity of office conspicuous by its absence.
“Oh, lummy!” said Mr. Nippers with a gulp. “Put down the hammers of them guns, you two – put ’em down quick! It’s Mr. Narkom – Mr. Maverick Narkom, superintendent at Scotland Yard!”
“Hullo!” exclaimed Mr. Narkom, shading his eyes from the firelight and leaning forward to get a clearer view of the speaker. “How the dickens do you know that, my man? And who the dickens are you, anyway? Can’t say that I remember ever seeing your face before.”
Mr. Nippers hastened to explain that little experience of five years ago; but the circumstance which had impressed itself so deeply upon his memory had passed entirely out of the superintendent’s.
“Oh, that’s it, is it?” said he. “Can’t say that I recall the occasion; but Mrs. Narkom certainly did stop at Winton-Old-Bridges some four or five summers ago, so of course it’s possible. By the way, my man, what caused you to make this sudden descent upon us? And what are these chaps who are with you bearing arms for? Anything up?”
“Oh, lummy, sir, yes! A murder’s just been committed – leastwise it’s only just been discovered; but it can’t have been long since it was committed, Mr. Narkom, for Miss Renfrew, who found him, sir, and give the alarm, she says as the poor dear gentleman was alive at a quarter to eight, ’cause she looked into the room at that time to ask him if there was anything he wanted, and he spoke up and told her no, and went on with his figgerin’ just the same as usual.”
“As usual?” said Cleek. “Why do you say ‘as usual,’ my friend? Was the man an accountant of some sort?”
“Lummy! no, sir. A great inventor is what he is – or was, poor gentleman. Reckon you must ’a’ heard of un some time or another – most everybody has. Nosworth is the name, sir – Mr. Septimus Nosworth of the Round House. You could see the tower of it over yon if you was to step out into the road and get clear of these trees.”
Cleek was on his feet like a flash.
“Not the great Septimus Nosworth?” he questioned eagerly. “Not the man who invented Lithamite? – the greatest authority on high explosives in England? Not that Septimus Nosworth, surely?”
“Aye – him’s the one, poor gentleman. I thought it like as the name would be familiar, sir. A goodish few have heard of un, one way and another.”
“Yes,” acquiesced Cleek. “Lithamite carried his name from one end of the globe to the other; and his family affairs came into unusual prominence in consequence. Widower, wasn’t he? – hard as nails and bitter as gall. Had an only son, hadn’t he? – a wild young blade who went the pace: took up with chorus girls, music hall ladies, and persons of that stripe, and got kicked out from under the parental roof in consequence.”
“Lummy, now! think of you a-knowin’ about all that!” said Mr. Nippers, in amazement. “But then, your bein’ with Mr. Narkom and him bein’ what he is – why, of course! Scotland Yard it do know everything, I’m told, sir.”
“Yes – it reads the papers occasionally, Mr. Nippers,” said Cleek. “I may take it from your reply, may I not, that I am correct regarding Mr. Septimus Nosworth’s son?”
“Indeed, yes, sir – right as rain. Leastwise, from what I’ve heard. I never see the young gentleman, myself. Them things you mention happened before Mr. Nosworth come to live in these parts – a matter of some four years or more ago. Alwuss had his laboratory here, sir – built it on the land he leased from Sir Ralph Droger’s father in the early sixties – and used to come over frequent and shut hisself in the Round House for days on end; but never come here to live until after that flare-up with Master Harry. Come then and built livin’ quarters beside the Round House and, after a piece, fetched Miss Renfrew and old Patty Dax over to live with un.”
“Miss Renfrew and old Patty Dax? Who are they?”
“Miss Renfrew is his niece, sir – darter of a dead sister. Old Patty Dax, she war the cook. I dunno what her be now, though – her died six months ago and un hired Mistress Armroyd in her place. French piece, her am, though bein’ widder of a Lancashire man, and though I doan’t much fancy foreigners nor their ways, this I will say: her keeps the house like a pin and her cookin’s amazin’ tasty – indeed, yes.”
“You are an occasional caller in the servants’ hall, I see, Mr. Nippers,” said Cleek, serenely, as he took up his coat and shook it, preparatory to putting it on. “I think, Mr. Narkom, that in the interests of the public at large it will be well for some one a little more efficient than the local constabulary to look into this case, so, if you don’t mind making yourself a trifle more presentable, it will be as well for us to get Mr. Nippers to show us the way to the scene of the tragedy. While you are doing it I will put a few ‘Headland’ questions to our friend here if you don’t mind assuring him that I am competent to advise.”
“Right you are, old chap,” said Narkom, taking his cue. “Nippers, this is Mr. George Headland, one of the best of my Yard detectives. He’ll very likely give you a tip or two in the matter of detecting crimes, if you pay attention to what he says.”
Nippers “paid attention” forthwith. The idea of being in consultation with any one connected with Scotland Yard tickled his very soul; and, in fancy, he already saw his name getting into the newspapers of London, and his fame spreading far beyond his native weald.
“I won’t trouble you for the full details of the murder, Mr. Nippers,” said Cleek. “Those, I fancy, this Miss Renfrew will be able to supply when I see her. For the present, tell me: how many other occupants does the house hold beyond these two of whom you have spoken – Miss Renfrew and the cook, Mrs. Armroyd?”
“None, sir, but the scullery maid, Emily, and the parlour maid, Clark. But both of them is out to-night, sir – havin’ went to a concert over at Beattie Corners. A friend of Mistress Armroyd’s sent her two tickets, and her not bein’ able to go herself, her thought it a pity for ’em to be wasted, so her give ’em to the maids.”
“I see, no male servants at all, then?”
“No, sir; not one. There’s Jones – the handy man – as comes in mornin’s to do the rough work and the haulin’ and carryin’ and things like that; and there’s the gardener and Mr. Kemper – him as is Mr. Nosworth’s assistant in the laboratory, sir – but none of ’em is ever in the house after five o’clock. Set against havin’ men sleep in the house was Mr. Nosworth – swore as never another should after him and Master Harry had their fallin’ out. Why, sir, he was that bitter he’d never even allow Mr. Charles to set foot in the place, just because him and Master Harry used to be friends – which makes it precious hard on Miss Renfrew, I can tell you.”
“As how? Is this ‘Mr. Charles’ connected with Miss Renfrew in any way?”
“Lummy! yes, sir – he’s her young man. Been sweet on each other ever since they was in pinafores; but never had no chance to marry because Mr. Charles – Mr. Charles Drummond is his full name, sir – he hasn’t one shillin’ to rub against another, and Miss Renfrew she’s a little worse off than him. Never gets nothin’, I’m told, for keepin’ house for her uncle – just her food and lodgin’ and clothes – and her slavin’ like a nigger for him the whole blessed time. Keeps his books and superintends the runnin’ of the house, she do, but never gets a brass farthin’ for it, poor girl. I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, Mr. Headland, sir, but this I must say: A rare old skinflint was Mr. Septimus Nosworth – wouldn’t part with a groat unless un was forced to. But praise be, her’ll get her dues now; fegs, yes! unless old skinflint went and changed his will without her knowin’.”
“Oho!” said Cleek, with a strong rising inflection. “His will was made in Miss Renfrew’s favour, was it?”
“Aye. That’s why her come and put up with un and all his hardheartedness – denyin’ her the pleasure o’ ever seein’ her young man just because him and Master Harry had been friends and playmates when t’ pair of un was just boys in knickers and broad collars. There be a stone heart for you.”
“Rather. Now one more question: I think you said it was Miss Renfrew who gave the alarm when the murder was discovered, Mr. Nippers. How did she give it and to whom?”
“Eh, now! to me and Mistress Armroyd, of course. Me and her war sittin’ in the kitchen havin’ a bite o’ supper at the time. Gorham, he war there, too, in the beginnin’; but un didn’t stop, of course – ’twouldn’t ’a’ done for the pair of us to be off duty together.”
“Oh! is Gorham a constable, then?”
“Aye – under constable: second to me. Got un appointed six months ago. Him had just gone a bit of a time when Miss Renfrew come rushin’ in and shrieked out about the murder; but he heard the rumpus and came poundin’ back, of course. I dunno what I’d ’a’ done if un hadn’t, for Miss Renfrew her went from one faintin’ fit to another – ’twas just orful. Gorham helped Ah to carry her up to the sittin’-room, wheer Mistress Armroyd burnt feathers under her nose, and when we’d got her round a bit we all three went outside and round to the laboratory. That’s when we first see the prints of the animal’s feet. Mistress Armroyd spied ’em first – all over the flower bed just under the laboratory window.”
“Oho! then that is what you meant when you alluded to an ‘animal’ when you pounced down upon us, was it? I see. One word more: what kind of an animal was it? Or couldn’t you tell from the marks?”
“No, sir, I couldn’t – nobody could unless it might be Sir Ralph Droger. He’ll be like to, if anybody. Keeps all sorts of animals and birds and things in great cages in Droger Park, does Sir Ralph. One thing I can swear to, though, sir: they warn’t like the footprints of any animal as I ever see. Theer be a picture o’ St. Jarge and the Dragon on the walls o’ Town Hall at Birchampton, Mr. Headland, sir, and them footprints is more like the paws of that dragon than anything else I can call to mind. Scaly and clawed they is – like the thing as made ’em was part bird and part beast – and they’re a good twelve inches long, every one of ’em.”
“Hum-m-m! That’s extraordinary. Deeply imprinted, are they?”
“Lummy! yes, sir. The animal as made ’em must have weighed ten or twelve stone at least. Soon as I see them, sir, I knowed I had my work cut out, so I left Gorham in charge of the house, rattled up these two men and Mr. Simpkins, here – which all three is employed at Droger Park, sir – and set out hot foot to look for gypsies.”
“Why?”
“’Cause Mistress Armroyd she says as she see a gypsy lurkin’ round the place just before dark, sir; and he had a queer thing like a bear’s muzzle in his hand.”
“Ah, I see!” said Cleek; and gave one of his odd smiles as he turned round and looked at the superintendent. “All ready, Mr. Narkom? Good! Let us go over to the Round House and investigate this interesting case. Dollops, stop where you are and look after the caravan. If we are away more than a couple of hours, tumble into bed and go to sleep. We may be a short time or we may be a long one. In affairs like this one never knows.”
“Any ideas, old chap?” queried Narkom in a whisper as they forged along together in the wake of Nippers and his three companions.
“Yes – a great many,” answered Cleek. “I am particularly anxious, Mr. Narkom, to have a look at those footprints and an interview with Miss Renfrew. I want to meet that young lady very much indeed.”
CHAPTER VIII
Twenty minutes later his desires in that respect were granted; and, having been introduced by Mr. Nippers to the little gathering in the sitting-room of the house of disaster as “a friend of mine from Scotland Yard, miss,” he found himself in the presence of one of those meek-faced, dove-eyed, “mousy” little bodies who seem born to be “patient Griseldas”; and in looking at her he was minded of the description of “Lady Jane” in the poem:
“Her pulse was slow, milk white her skin —
She had not blood enough to sin.”
Years of repression had told upon her, and she looked older than she really was – so old and so dragged out, in fact, that Mrs. Armroyd, the cook, appeared youthful and attractive in contrast. Indeed, it was no wonder that Mr. Ephraim Nippers had been attracted by that good soul; for, although her hair was streaked with gray, and her figure was of the “sack of flour” order, and her eyes were assisted in their offices by a pair of steel-bowed spectacles, her face was still youthful in contour, and Mr. Narkom, looking at her, concluded that at twenty-four or twenty-five she must have been a remarkably pretty and remarkably fascinating woman. What Cleek’s thoughts were upon that subject it is impossible to record; for he merely gave her one look on coming into the room, and then took no further notice of her whatsoever.
“Indeed, Mr. Headland, I am glad – I am very, very glad – that fortune has sent you into this neighbourhood at this terrible time,” said Miss Renfrew when Cleek was introduced. “I do not wish to say anything disparaging of Mr. Nippers, but you can see for yourself how unfitted such men as he and his assistant are to handle an affair of this importance. Indeed, I cannot rid my mind of the thought that if more competent police were on duty here the murder would not have happened. In short, that the assassin, whoever he maybe, counted upon the blundering methods of these men as his passport to safety.”
“My own thought precisely,” said Cleek. “Mr. Nippers has given me a brief outline of the affair – would you mind giving me the full details, Miss Renfrew? At what hour did Mr. Nosworth go into his laboratory? Or don’t you know, exactly?”
“Yes, I know to the fraction of a moment, Mr. Headland. I was looking at my watch at the time. It was exactly eight minutes past seven. We had been going over the monthly accounts together, when he suddenly got up, and without a word walked through that door over there. It leads to a covered passage connecting the house proper with the laboratory. That, as you may have heard, is a circular building with a castellated top. It was built wholly and solely for the carrying on of his experiments. There is but one floor and one window – a very small one about six feet from the ground, and on the side of the Round House which looks away from this building. Nothing but the door to that is on this side, light being supplied to the interior by a roof made entirely of heavy corrugated glass.”
“I see. Then the place is like a huge tube.”
“Exactly – and lined entirely with chilled steel. Such few wooden appliances as are necessary for the equipment of the place are thickly coated with asbestos. I made no comment when my uncle rose and walked in there without a word. I never did. For the past six or seven months he had been absorbed in working out the details of a new invention; and I had become used to his jumping up like that and leaving me. We never have supper in this house – my uncle always called it a useless extravagance. Instead, we defer tea until six o’clock and make that the final meal of the day. It was exactly five minutes to seven when I finished my accounts, and as I had had a hard day of it, I decided to go to bed early, after having first taken a walk as far as the old bridge where I hoped that somebody would be waiting for me.”
“I know,” said Cleek, gently. “I have heard the story. It would be Mr. Charles Drummond, would it not?”
“Yes. He was not there, however. Something must have prevented his coming.”
“Hum-m-m! Go on, please.”
“Before leaving the house, it occurred to me that I ought to look into the laboratory and see if there was anything my uncle would be likely to need for the night, as I intended to go straightway to bed on my return. I did so. He was sitting at his desk, immediately under the one window of which I have spoken, and with his back to me, when I looked in. He answered my inquiry with a curt ‘No – nothing. Get out and don’t worry me!’ I immediately shut the door and left him, returning here by way of the covered passage and going upstairs to make some necessary changes in my dress for the walk to the old bridge. When I came down, ready for my journey, I looked at the clock on the mantel over there. It was exactly seventeen minutes to eight o’clock. I had been a little longer in dressing than I had anticipated being; so, in order to save time in getting to the trysting place, I concluded to make a short cut by going out of the rear door and crossing diagonally through our grounds instead of going by the public highway as usual. I had scarcely more than crossed the threshold when I ran plump into Constable Gorham. As he is rather a favourite with good Mrs. Armroyd here, I fancied that he had been paying her a visit, and was just coming away from the kitchen. Instead, he rather startled me by stating that he had seen something which he thought best to come round and investigate. In short, that, as he was patrolling the highway, he had seen a man vault over the wall of our grounds and, bending down, dart out of sight like a hare. He was almost positive that that man was Sir Ralph Droger. Of course that frightened me almost out of my wits.”
“Why?”
“There was bad blood between my uncle and Sir Ralph Droger – bitter, bad blood. As you perhaps know, my uncle held this ground on a life lease from the Droger estate. That is to say, so long as he lived or refused to vacate that lease, no Droger could oust him nor yet lift one spadeful of earth from the property.”
“Does Sir Ralph desire to do either?”
“He desires to do both. Borings secretly made have manifested the fact that both Barnsley thick-coal and iron ore underlie the place. Sir Ralph wishes to tear down the Round House and this building and to begin mining operations. My uncle, who has been offered the full value of every stick and stone, has always obstinately refused to budge one inch or to lessen the lease by one half hour. ‘It is for the term of my life,’ he has always said, ‘and for the term of my life I’ll hold it!’”
“Oho!” said Cleek; and then puckered up his lips as if about to whistle.
“Under such circumstances,” went on Miss Renfrew, “it was only natural that I should be horribly frightened, and only too willing to act upon the constable’s suggestion that we at once look into the Round House and see if everything was right with my uncle.”
“Why should the constable suggest that?”
“Everybody in the neighbourhood knows of the bitter ill feeling existing between the two men; so, of course, it was only natural.”
“Hum-m-m! Yes! Just so. Did you act on Constable Gorham’s suggestion, then?”
“Yes. I led the way in here and then up the covered passage to the laboratory and opened the door. My uncle was sitting exactly as he had been when I looked in before – his back to me and his face to the window – but although he did not turn, it was evident that he was annoyed by my disturbing him, for he growled angrily, ‘What the devil are you coming in here and disturbing me like this for, Jane? Get out and leave me alone.’”
“Hum-m-m!” said Cleek, drawing down his brows and pinching his chin. “Any mirrors in the Round House?”
“Mirrors? No, certainly not, Mr. Headland. Why?”
“Nothing – only that I was wondering, if as you say, he never turned and you never spoke, how in the world he knew that it really was you, that’s all.”
“Oh, I see what you mean,” said Miss Renfrew, knotting up her brows. “It does seem a little peculiar when one looks at it in that way. I never thought of it before. Neither can I explain it, Mr. Headland, any more than to say that I suppose he took it for granted. And, as it happened, he was right. Besides, as you will remember, I had intruded upon him only a short time before.”
“Quite so,” said Cleek. “That’s what makes it appear stranger than ever. Under the circumstances one might have expected him to say not ‘What are you coming in here for,’ but, ‘What are you coming in for again.’ Still, of course, there’s no accounting for little lapses like that. Go on, please – what next?”
“Why, of course I immediately explained what Constable Gorham had said, and why I had looked in. To which he replied, ‘The man’s an ass. Get out!’ Upon which I closed the door, and the constable and I went away at once.”
“Constable there with you during it all, then?”
“Yes, certainly – in the covered passage, just behind me. He saw and heard everything; though, of course, neither of us actually entered the laboratory itself. There was really no necessity when we knew that my uncle was safe and sound, you see.”
“Quite so,” agreed Cleek. “So you shut the door and went away – and then what?”
“Constable Gorham went back to his beat, and I flew as fast as I could to meet Mr. Drummond. It is only a short way to the old bridge at best, and by taking that short cut through the grounds, I was there in less than ten minutes. And by half-past eight I was back here in a greater state of terror than before.”
“And why? Were you so much alarmed that Mr. Drummond did not keep the appointment?”
“No. That did not worry me at all. He is often unable to keep his appointments with me. He is filling the post of private secretary to a large company promoter, and his time is not his own. What terrified me was that, after waiting a few minutes for him, I heard somebody running along the road, and a few moments later Sir Ralph Droger flew by me as if he were being pursued. Under ordinary circumstances I should have thought that he was getting into training for the autumn sports (he is, you may know, very keen on athletics, and holds the County Club’s cup for running and jumping), but when I remembered what Constable Gorham had said, and saw that Sir Ralph was coming from the direction of this house, all my wits flew; I got into a sort of panic and almost collapsed with fright.”
“And all because the man was coming from the direction of this house?”
“Not that alone,” she answered with a shudder. “I have said that I should under ordinary circumstances have thought he was merely training for the autumn sports – for, you see, he was in a running costume of white cotton stuff and his legs were bare from the knee down – but as he shot past me in the moonlight I caught sight of something like a huge splash of blood on his clothes, and coupling that with the rest I nearly went out of my senses. It wasn’t until long afterward I recollected that the badge of the County Club is the winged foot of Mercury wrought in brilliant scarlet embroidery. To me, just then, that thing of red was blood – my uncle’s blood – and I ran and ran and ran until I got back here to the house and flew up the covered passage and burst into the Round House. He was sitting there still – just as he had been sitting before. But he didn’t call out to me this time; he didn’t reprove me for disturbing him; didn’t make one single movement, utter one single sound. And when I went to him I knew why. He was dead – stone dead! The face and throat of him were torn and rent as if some furious animal had mauled him, and there were curious yellow stains upon his clothes. That’s all, Mr. Headland. I don’t know what I did nor where I went from the moment I rushed shrieking from that room until I came to my senses and found myself in this one with dear, kind Mrs. Armroyd here bending over me and doing all in her power to soothe and to comfort me.”
“There, there, cherie, you shall not more distress yourself. It is of a hardness too great for the poor mind to bear,” put in Mrs. Armroyd herself at this, bending over the sofa as she spoke and softly smoothing the girl’s hair. “It is better she should be at peace for a little, is it not, monsieur?”
“Very much better, madame,” replied Cleek, noting how softly her hand fell, and how gracefully it moved over the soft hair and across the white forehead. “No doubt the major part of what still remains to be told, you in the goodness of your heart, will supply – ”
“Of a certainty, monsieur, of a certainty.”
“ – But for the present,” continued Cleek, finishing the interrupted sentence, “there still remains a question or two which must be asked, and which only Miss Renfrew herself can answer. As those are of a private and purely personal nature, madame, would it be asking too much – ” He gave his shoulders an eloquent Frenchified shrug, looked up at her after the manner of her own countrymen, and let the rest of the sentence go by default.
“Madame” looked at him and gave her little hands an airy and a graceful flirt.
“Of a certainty, monsieur,” she said, with charming grace. “Cela m’est egal,” and walked away with a step remarkably light and remarkably graceful for one of such weight and generous dimensions.
“Miss Renfrew,” said Cleek, sinking his voice and looking her straight in the eyes, as soon as Mrs. Armroyd had left them, “Miss Renfrew, tell me something please: Have you any suspicion regarding the identity or the purpose of the person who murdered your uncle?”
“Not in the slightest, Mr. Headland. Of course, in the beginning, my thoughts flew at once to Sir Ralph Droger, but I now see how absurd it is to think that such as he – ”
“I am not even hinting at Sir Ralph Droger,” interposed Cleek. “Two other people in the world have a ‘motive’ quite as strong as any that might be assigned to him. You, of course, feel every confidence in the honour and integrity of Mr. Charles Drummond?”
“Mr. Headland!”
“Gently, gently, please! I merely wished to know if in your heart you had any secret doubt; and your flaring up like that has answered me. You see, one has to remember that the late Mr. Nosworth is said to have made a will in your favour. The statement is correct, is it not?”
“To the best of my belief – yes.”
“Filed it with his solicitors, did he?”
“That I can’t say. I think not, however. He was always sufficient unto himself, and had a rooted objection to trusting anything of value to the care of any man living. Even his most important documents – plans and formulas of his various inventions, even the very lease of this property – have always been kept in the desk in the laboratory.”
“Hum-m-m!” said Cleek, and pinched his chin hard. Then, after a moment. “One last question,” he went on suddenly. “What do you know, Miss Renfrew, of the recent movements of Mr. Harry Nosworth – the son who was kicked out?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing!” she answered, with a look of something akin to horror. “I know what you are thinking of, but although he is as bad as man can be, it is abominable to suppose that he would lift his hand against his own father.”
“Hum-m-m! Yes, of course! But still, it has been known to happen; and, as you say, he was a bad lot. I ran foul of the young gentleman once when – No matter; it doesn’t signify. So you don’t know anything about him, eh?”
“Nothing, thank God. The last I did hear, he had gone on the stage and taken up with some horrible creature, and the pair of them were subsequently sent to prison for enticing people to dreadful places and then drugging and robbing them. But even that I heard from an outside source; for my uncle never so much as mentioned him. No, I know nothing of him – nothing at all. In fact, I’ve never seen him since he was a boy. He never lived here, you know; and until I came here, I knew next to nothing of my uncle himself. We were poor and lived in a quite different town, my mother and I. Uncle Septimus never came to see us while my mother lived. He came for the first time when she was dead and his son had gone away: and I was so poor and so friendless I was glad to accept the home he offered. No, Mr. Headland, I know nothing of Harry Nosworth. I hope, for his own sake, he is dead.”
