The Hampstead Mystery (Thriller Novel). Arthur J. Rees
you are," said the inspector, producing his pocket-book, taking out the paper, and handing it to Crewe. "What do you make of it?"
Crewe sat down, and placing the paper before him took a magnifying glass from his pocket. As he sat there, in his grey tweed suit, his hat pushed carelessly back from his forehead, he might have been mistaken for a young man of wealth with no serious business in life, for his clothes were of fashionable cut, and he wore them with an air of distinction. But a glance at his face would have dispelled the impression. The clear-cut, clean-shaven features riveted attention by reason of their strength and intelligence, and though the dark eyes were rather too dreamy for the face, the heavy lines of the lower jaw indicated the man of action and force of character. The thick neck and heavily-lipped firm mouth suggested tireless energy and abounding vitality.
"At least two people have had a hand in it," he said, after studying the paper for a few minutes.
"In the murder?" asked the inspector, who was astonished at a deduction which harmonised with a theory which had begun to take shape in his mind.
"In writing this," said Crewe, with his attention still fixed on the paper. "But of course you know that yourself."
"Of course," assented the inspector, who was surprised at the information, but was too experienced an official to show his feelings. "And both hands disguised."
"Disguised to the extent of being printed in written characters," continued Crewe. "It is so seldom that a person writes printed characters that any method in which they are written suggests disguise. The original intention of the two persona who wrote this extraordinary note was for each to write a single letter in turn. That system was carried as far as 'Sir Horace' or, perhaps, up to the 'B' in 'Fewbanks.' After that they became weary of changing places and one of them wrote alternate letters to the end, leaving blanks for the other to fill in. That much is to be gathered from the variations in the spaces between the letters--sometimes there was too much room for an intermediate letter, sometimes too little, so the letter had to be cramped. Here and there are dots made with the pen as the first of the two spelled out the words so as to know what letters to write and what to leave blank. Look at the differences in the letter 'U.' One of the writers makes it a firm downward and upward stroke; the other makes the letter fainter and adds another downward stroke, the letter being more like a small 'u' written larger than a capital letter. The differences in the two hands are so pronounced throughout the note that I am inclined to think that one of the writers was a woman."
"Exactly what I thought," said Inspector Chippenfield, looking hard at Crewe so that the latter should not question his good faith.
"Then there are sometimes slight differences in the alternate letters written by the same hand. Look at the 'T' in 'last' and the 'T' in 'night'--the marked variation in the length and angle of the cross stroke. It is evident that the writers were labouring under serious excitement when they wrote this."
Rolfe was so interested in Crewe's revelations that he stood beside the deductive expert and studied the paper afresh.
"And now, about finger-prints?" asked Crews.
"None," was the reply of the inspector, "We had it under the microscope at Scotland Yard."
"None?" exclaimed Crewe, in surprise. "Why adopt such precautions as wearing gloves to write a note giving away this startling secret?"
"Easy enough," replied Inspector Chippenfield. "The people who wrote the note either had little or nothing to do with the murder, but were afraid suspicion might be directed to them, or else they are the murderers and want to direct suspicion from themselves."
"And now for the bullets," said Crewe, "I understand two shots were fired."
"From two revolvers," said the inspector. "Here are both bullets. This one I picked out of the wall over there. You can see where I've broken away the plaster. This one--much the bigger one of the two--was the one that killed Sir Horace. The doctor handed it to me after the post-mortem."
"Did Sir Horace keep a revolver?"
"The butler says yes. But if he did it's gone."
Crewe stood up and examined the hole in the wall where Inspector Chippenfield had dug out the smaller bullet.
"Sir Horace made a bid for his life but missed. Of course, he had no time to take aim while there was a man on the other side of the room covering him, but in any case those fancy firearms cannot be depended upon to shoot straight."
"You think Sir Horace fired at his murderer--fired first?" asked Rolfe.
"This small bullet suggests one of those fancy silver-mounted weapons that are made to sell to wealthy people. Sir Horace was a bit of a sportsman, and knew something about game-shooting, but, I take it, he had no use for a revolver. I assume he kept one of those fancy weapons on hand thinking he would never have to use it, but that it would do to frighten a burglar if the occasion did arise."
"And when he was held up in this room by a man with a revolver he made a dash for his own revolver and got in the first shot?" suggested Rolfe, with the idea of outlining Crewe's theory of how the crime was committed.
"It is scarcely possible to reconstruct the crime to that extent," said Crewe with a smile. "But undoubtedly Sir Horace got in the first shot. If he fired after he was hit his bullet would have gone wild--would probably have struck the ceiling--whereas it landed there. Let us measure the height from the floor." He pulled a small spool out of a waistcoat pocket and drew out a tape measure. "A little high for the heart of an average man, and probably a foot wide of the mark."
"And what do you make of the disappearance of Sir Horace's revolver?" asked Rolfe, who seemed to his superior officer to be in danger of displaying some admiration for deductive methods.
"I'm no good at guess-work," replied Crewe, who felt that he had given enough information away.
"Well," said Rolfe, "here is a glove which was found in the room. The other one is missing. It might be a clue."
Crewe took the glove and examined it carefully. It was a left-hand glove made of reindeer-skin, and grey in colour. It bore evidence of having been in use, but it was still a smart-looking glove such as a man who took a pride in his appearance might wear.
"Burglars wear gloves nowadays," said Crewe, "but not this kind. The india-rubber glove with only the thumb separate is best for their work. They give freedom of action for the fingers and leave no finger-prints. Have you made inquiries whether this is one of Sir Horace's gloves?"
"Well, it is the same size as he wore--seven and a half," said Inspector Chippenfield. "The butler is the only servant here and he can't say for certain that it belonged to his master. I've been through Sir Horace's wardrobe and through the suit-case he brought from Scotland, but I can find no other pair exactly similar. Rolfe took it to Sir Horace's hosier, and he is practically certain that: the glove is one of a pair he sold to Sir Horace."
"That should be conclusive," said Crewe thoughtfully.
"So I think," replied the inspector.
"Well, I'll take it with me, if you don't mind," said Crewe. "You can have it back whenever you want it. Let me have the address of Sir Horace's hosier--I'll give him a call."
"Take it by all means," said the inspector cordially, referring to the glove. And with a wink at Rolfe he added, "And when you are ready to fit it on the guilty hand I hope you will let us know."
CHAPTER VII
Crewe made a careful inspection of the house and the grounds. He took measurements of the impressions left on the sill of the window which had been forced and also of the foot-prints immediately beneath the window. He had a long conversation with Hill and questioned him regarding his movements on the night of the murder. He also asked about the other servants who were at Dellmere, and probed for information about Sir Horace's domestic life and his friends. As he was