The Riddle of the Spinning Wheel Part 9

"Mine, Mr. Deland."

"_Yours?_... Oho! And not young Cyril's, then?"

"No. Upon that Father was adamant. He said justice must be done to the elder family--that is Ross and me, as you know--and he would see justice done. If Ross could not have the rightful inheritance because of his unfitness (poor Ross!) then it was to come to me, unless I saw fit to marry Captain Macdonald. In that event it all went to charity.

Naturally, I protested with him."

"Why?"

"Because, don't you see? I hoped he would perhaps relent and leave Ross's name where it was. The ignominy to the poor boy would have been so terrible--if he had struck his name out. Ross would never have got over it--never! He is so proud of his house, so wrapped up in it in every way."

"And did your father manage to destroy the will then before it--happened?"

"No. He had it in his hands. I was wrestling with him, trying to get it away, and Paula had caught me by the shoulders and was endeavouring to get me away, too, when the lights suddenly went out, and--and came up again. And there he was in his chair--_dead_!"

"And you say that you heard the sound of the spinning wheel 'humming' in the darkness? You really did hear that, Miss Duggan?"

"Yes--I would swear to it on my oath."

"And how then did your father die? By what means?"

"By a shot through his temple, I suppose (though he was stabbed as well)--although there was no noise, Mr. Deland, nothing to tell us that the awful thing was happening, save the failing of the current at that moment."

"H'm. I see. A soundless pistol--in fact, an air-gun. Any one in the house got such a thing, do you know?"

She shook her head.

"Not that I know of, unless ... but he gave his away long ago."

"Who, may I ask?"

She sent suddenly startled eyes up into his face, as though she realized that she had unguardedly been trapped into a damaging admission.

"Why--why--my brother Ross, Mr. Deland," she said in a hoa.r.s.e, frightened voice.

CHAPTER IX

A DOUBLE TRAGEDY

Cleek sat forward in his seat suddenly, every nerve alert at this somewhat startling piece of news. Oho! So Ross Duggan was the only person possessing an air-pistol--and the laird had been killed by means of one, shot through the head in a dastardly fas.h.i.+on. Gad! it certainly wanted looking into! And the moment had been chosen with such precision that the alteration in that self-same will had never been made, and Ross Duggan still stood as chief heir to his father's estates!

That was a queer thing--a very queer thing! He flung up his eyebrows and twitched the corner of his mobile mouth.

"Your _brother_, Miss Duggan? I see. And how long ago was it that he bought that pistol, may I ask? And for what purpose?"

She gave an uneasy laugh which ended in a little sob that brought a look of pity to his eyes.

"Oh--ages and ages! Quite a couple of years ago, I think. Ross and a fellow-officer who was here for the fis.h.i.+ng got it together. Ross had thought of a new idea for killing the big salmon after they had been played so long, and though exhausted were brought to sh.o.r.e alive.

Everyone laughed at him, of course, and the thing never turned out to be anything; but Ross's idea was to shoot them as soon after swallowing the hook as was possible, and the soundless pistol wouldn't frighten the other fish. It was a ridiculous idea--but Ross imagined it would be more humane, though not nearly so much sport from the fisherman's point of view, as you know, Mr. Deland--and he tried it only once. He was teased out of it after that."

"And the pistol?"

"I really don't know ... what became of it. I never saw it again, and, in fact, forgot all about it. But of course, Mr. Deland, Ross couldn't--_couldn't!_--oh, I beg of you, don't think of such a terrible thing for one instant! Ross adored his father _always_, in spite of the bad blood between them of later years."

"Quite so. Only, naturally, in the pursuit of duty one must ask all manner of irrelevant questions. You understand that, Miss Duggan, I hope? Of course your brother Ross would not think of such a thing. But if he is the only possessor of an air-pistol, well, naturally, circ.u.mstantial evidence will be rather unpleasant for him--unless something else turns up. I'd like to see your brother, if you please, and have a little chat with him. And then he will show me the--your father, and let me make a little perfunctory examination.... By the way, how far away is the nearest police-station?"

"A matter of three miles. But the men have motorcycles, and should be here at any moment. Hark! that's Rhea's bell, isn't it? No doubt they have already come. Oh, Mr. Deland, _what_ shall I say to them? I don't feel as though I could face a stranger _now_!"

Cleek laid his hand upon her shoulder as he rose to his feet.

"And you're not going to--have no fear of that," he replied kindly.

"Remember, I represent Scotland Yard, Miss Duggan. This thing lies in my hands, and I am in command of it. I shall see the police-sergeant and make all necessary arrangements. The formalities will have to be observed, of course, for to-night, at any rate. No one must leave this house under any pretext whatever--neither servant nor guest. All doors and windows must be locked, and I shall set a guard about the place. But that will be my duty to attend to--not yours. So go and rest a little, if you can--and emulate your worthy stepmother (who, by the way, I want to see as soon as possible), after you have taken me to your brother, and we have had a little talk together.... Would you mind conducting me to him now?"

She bowed her head dumbly, and pa.s.sed out in front of him, down the long narrow pa.s.sage with its armoured figures standing out in niches cut into the wall and its air of brooding mystery which so well fitted this tragic affair and lent still further colour to it. At last they reached the library. At the door of it she paused, hesitated, put her hand upon the handle of it, and then drew back with an involuntary s.h.i.+ver.

"I can't--I can't!" she said brokenly. "It's asking too much to go in and see him now--not until he has been placed as he ought to be, poor dear old Daddy! But Ross is in there with him, Mr. Deland. So if you just knock, and then enter, and tell him who you are, that will be all right.... Those men are coming in, I know. I can hear them at the door now. Oh, please, please don't let me see them-- I don't feel as if I could!"

"And you shan't--have no fear of that," he replied. "So be off with you as quick as you can, and lie down for half an hour, at any rate. And if I have need of you I'll send someone along with a message.... Ah!

they're coming.... Good evening, Sergeant. You've been exceedingly prompt in coming along, I must say. And brought four men with you, too?

That's good. We shall want 'em in this place. There's been a murder here--old Sir Andrew Duggan has been done to death in a mysterious manner--shot and stabbed at the same time. I've not yet looked at the body, but shall do so presently. Mr. Narkom will be down in the morning."

"Mr. Narkom? The Chief Superintendent, eh? Then--then may I ask who _you_ are, sir?" responded Sergeant Campbell, in a deep, ringing voice which exactly fitted the huge figure of him.

Cleek bowed. He looked keenly into the gray eyes under the beetling brows, came to the rapid conclusion that here was a man who could keep his tongue in leash if required, and then with a glance over the four police-constables standing behind him, handed him a card upon which he had scribbled one word, and then watched the effect of it with dawning amus.e.m.e.nt as the knowledge soaked into the Inspector's consciousness.

"Name's Deland," he said with a knowing wink, speaking in the nick of time, before the Sergeant in his astonishment and admiration for this man who stood before him, and whose name was a household word upon the tongue of every policeman the world over, had quite given the show away to the rest of his followers. "Arthur Deland. You've probably heard of me, Sergeant, if you follow the doings of Scotland Yard at all. Came up here under Mr. Narkom's orders to handle another case, and then dropped--_plop!_--upon this one. Better come along now. I want you to set a couple of men before the library door, where the thing took place--nothing to be moved, of course, or touched in any way, until Mr.

Narkom arrives--and then send another of your men back to fetch ten more reserves, and stand guard all round the house from the outside. Tell 'em to report to you every half hour, and if there's anything doing bring it along to me at once. You understand?"

"Yessir. Certainly, sir."

"Then come along."

He led the way through the long hall, past the gaping butler to whom this stranger, whom his master had entertained at lunch, and who was now so mysteriously in charge of affairs, seemed suddenly to have a.s.sumed a princ.i.p.al part in the affair, and to be showing his "nerve" in a good many ways; and with a quick order to him to see that all doors and windows were securely bolted and locked, so that no one could get in or out of the house save at the instigation of the Law and the Law's minions, Cleek pa.s.sed on to that chamber of death where the old laird lay, and turning the handle softly, led the way in.

There was a light s.h.i.+ning in the centre of the room from an old-fas.h.i.+oned lamp which stood upon the desk-top and sent a soft effulgence round and about it that lay like a halo upon the peace of that silent place. At the desk sat Ross Duggan, head in hands, shutting out the sight of the Thing that faced him in all the majesty of death, that Thing which so short a time back had been his own father, and now sat huddled forward in a fallen att.i.tude in the swing-back office chair opposite Ross, transparent hands lying aimlessly upon the desk-top, head downthrown, jaw dropped, and with a little sinister blackened puncture in the temple telling the tale of the air-pistol's accurate aim only too well.

Cleek went up to the desk and laid his hand upon Ross's shoulder. In an instant the young man sprang to his feet, eyes ablaze, face chalk-white, startled and not a little displeased at this intrusion upon him and his dead by a man whom he had met only casually a few hours back, and who had witnessed that never-to-be-forgotten quarrel between him and his father which would sear his memory now forever.

"I-- I---- This is hardly the hour and the time, Mr. Deland," he began in a hushed voice; but Cleek silenced him, the queer little one-sided smile travelling up his cheek, and his eyes serious and not a little sad as they rested upon the haggard face of this heir to an unhappy inheritance.

"That's all right, my dear chap--really," he said in his clear, low-pitched voice. "You see, my profession happens to be that of a detective, and I stand at present as official representative of Scotland Yard. The Sergeant here has come to do his unpleasant duty, and place a guard over the body. It would be better for you, really, to go and lie down. After such a terrible shock...."

"I'll go, and gladly!" returned Ross with a grim nod of the head and a sudden warming of colour in the pale cheeks of him. "It's not been the pleasantest task sitting here with--him--like that, Mr. Deland. And as you happen to have jumped up from nowhere and taken matters so entirely in hand, I'll relinquish my trust. But I didn't somehow like to leave--him--alone. After what's happened--the strange method of his death--and all the rest of this ghastly affair, I meant to keep the rest of the world away from him, if possible, and if the murderer should chance to come back!"--a sudden light flashed into his eyes and involuntarily his body stiffened--"then I should be ready for him."

"Spoken like a soldier and a gentleman," said Cleek softly, with a nod of understanding. "Now I want to have a look at your father, Mr. Duggan.