THE FATAL EYES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18565, 24 November 1923, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE FATAL EYES.

BY MAURICE LONG.

(Copyright.) 1. A3 [the! piurderer crept put *>f the "brary window the closed eyes of the dead man in his chair seemed still to be gazing into his own. Through all the remainder of that interminable day they never left him, and he wakened from his restless sleep in the night, after a few moments of troubled slumber, to find them gleaming before him in the darkness. Not in angerfor that would have been endurable —but filled with a far more terrible pity and reproach.

Tliep possessed his whole mind and hypnotised his power of thought, which could not drive away the ghastly vision. He remembered that master criminals had been driven to desperation by the relentless eyes of their victims, and for himself he pictured already the doom of the madhouse. Yet even that he would welcome if only it could bring release from the haunting, accusing, pitiful eyes.

Sir Martin Spurling, being ordinarily a specialist in Welbeck Street, who had attended Royal patients on more than one occasion, always declared himself a very amateur criminologist, in spite of his solution of several baffling problems, which had been brought to his notice since his first famous adventure in detective work — at a. country house tragedy of which he had as a guest been a chance witness.

None the less he had won, in spite of his modest depreciation of his skill, a far larger measure of recognition than falls usually to the lot of the interested amateur; and investigators with a considerable reputation had of late sought his advice in cases where the doctor's scientific training placed him at an advantage. Por the. factors which had brought his success in medicine stood him in good stead as often as he cared to give his attention to a problem of crime. The man who can detect, a "murmur" in a heart where others have failed, and deal swiftly and accurately with a waiting-room full of had cases, using his powers of observation as to complexion, expression, manner of speech, to discover what the stethoscope missesthis __ man has gifts which will help him round many an intricate problem, -wherever it may lie.

And Sir Martin was decidedly an allround man. At Cambridge he had gained with ease his first and most of the scientific prizes, managing at the same time to represent his college on the river and his 'Varsity at Queen's Club. At hospital the same qualities made him captain of the fifteen and ;;ne of the most trusted house-surgeons of his time, and later a consultant, who found himself at forty-five with a well-earned knighthood and more patients than he could easily treat.

In appearance he was interesting and attractive, rather than distinguished. Clients who looked for the spare, ascetic figure, with which the scientist is credited, were surprised at the cheery greeting of a man of less than medi- m height, very broad in the shoulders and likely to be stout 111 ten years' time, with merry blue eyes, a clean-shaved, ruddy face, and crisp, curly, black hair, fleeted with grey, who seemed much more ready for a good joke than a talk about disease. This, bowever, as they, soon discovered, was only the outer man. Underneath lay the sterling friend and confidant of all in distress, who gave to such people far more of his time and trouble than was included in his fee.

As he came to the end of breakfast, on a bright summer's morning, his man announced that Miss Henley was waiting to see him, and he sprang up with a smile of welcome for his old friend's daughter. But her pretty face was so anxious that the teasing chaff with which he usually greeted her, died on his lips.

" I won't ask yet. what the trouble is. Sit down and tell me all about it in your own time, and if there is anything I can do—well, you know you have only to ask."

" I thought, you would have seen it in the papers before I arrived "

" Not yet, my dear. You see, I was only just at the end of breakfast when you came. and. bachelor though I am, it is a fad of mine not to combine breakfast and the morning's news."

Cynthia Henley took a newspaper from the far end of the table, and with trembling hand pointed to a paragraph on the principal news page.

CITY MERCHANT FOUND DEAD. Mr. Andrew Henley, of Ten Pines, an old and respected City merchant, who had retired from business a few years ago, was found dead in his library yesterday morning about mid-day. Death was apparently due to heart trouble, to which he, had been subject of late. But a curious feature of the sad case was the expression jaf terror said it© have been noticeable on the face of the deceased. For this, however, no explanation can be suggested. The deceased, who was a widower, had two children, a son and daughter, who both survive him.

Sir Martin read with sorrow the news, which was less of a shock to him than to the daughter, since he had known for some time that a sudden death must be expected. "I am so very sorry for you. But I told your brother ' last year, after Mr. Henley came to me professionally, that, the heart was as weak as it could well be, and that any severe shock might prove fatal. I felt that I.ought to say that, because I knew, as a friend of the family, that Arthur gave your father much disappointment, and that once at least there had been something like a scene."

" Afthur never told me Sa word of that," answered Cynthia. "If only he had done so the blow would have been lighter now. I knew that father had heart trouble, of course, but I did not dream that a man of his age and vigour might not have ten years before him." " So he might have done, had things gone btherwise." Then he (continued: " You must rot blame Arthur for his silence. I did not wart my little girl to be worried, and I suggested that he should say nothing to you." He did not add that the son's callous bearing had raised his anger at the time, or that he had noticed that the news was. almost welcome to the young wastrel. For he knew enough of Arthur's life at that period to understand that a fortune would be very timely, and that the death of a rich father would leave this son unmoved.

"This paragraph does not tell me much," he said. "If it is not too great a strain for you, I should like to hear the story of this tragedy as you know it." " Well, father was just as usual yesterday morning. He was cheerful and happy, had a good meal, looked at the papers, and then went off to the library to answer his letters, which he always does the very first thing, as you know.

" Arthur was busy cleaning up some old golf-balls in the garage, which is all the work he ever does nowadays, and I went into the village to do some shopping, and did not <'et back until about eleven o'clock. I looked about for Arthur, but found that he had gone off to the links without me, although he had promised me a game. So I went into the library to get one of the papers. Then -' She found it hard to go over the details Hiat followed. Sir Martin -waited until the tears were mastered. " Tell me all that happened next as carefully as you possibly can. The smallest point may be the most important." ' , " When I entered the library I thought at, first that father was asleep, for the sun was streaming in on his face, and I could see quite dearly, even from, the

door, that his eyes were dosed. The paper lay on the floor beside him, and all his letters were scattered about unopened, and the roll-top deek in front of hiii was closed down, as though he had not used it. I could not understand it at all, but I thought I would get the paper without waking him. Then as I came nearer I noticed that awful look of terror which the papers mention.

" It was such an expression of dread, though the eyes were closed, as I can hardly describe. As though he had seen something which had driven him to the point of madness, and left every muscle of his dear face contorted with panic.

I thought he must be having some terrible dream, and I tried to waken him. Then —then I found he was not asleep." Sir Martin started. One fact recounted by Cynthia had awakened a sudden suspicion in his mind as a medical man. " Tell me one 'tiling more," he said. " You say that the expression was one of extreme terror. Do you know of anything which could so frighten or startle him ? Because such a shock would have caused his death beyond a shadow of doubt, but it must have been no ordinary thing."

"He was frightened more,or less of all animals, except dogs, of which he was fond. Once as a child he had been frightened by a foolish nurse, and that fear of animals clung to him all through life. But I cannot, connect that in any wav with his death."

• " And there is no one upon wlu.n your suspicion falls, if foul play can be proved ?"

"No one, at all. It seems silly to think of anything but a natural death. Only I can't forget that look of terror on his face, and I could never believe it unless you told me. yourself that he had died a' peaceful death. You know I have always brought my troubles here since I was a little girl and yesterday evening I made up my mind I would take the very first train, and ask ycu to come down to-night."

" I think I can get down for dinner, as this is Friday, and perhaps stay the week-end. But yon must remember that, although I am only a very amateur criminal investigator, what reputation I have might put criminals on their guard, and I think you had better say nothing about that side, of my visit —not to anyone, if you want me to be of use.

" I will just arrive as an old friend of the family, and if I can bv chance find a clue I shall be relieved, for one point in your narrative . indicates a murder. 1 fear, unless some unexpected explanation ran be discovered. I hope to arrive by the 6-15, if all goes well."

Following a plan which he had found useful in several previous investigations. Sir Martin travelled by the 4-15, instead of the later train, and drove up to the house in the one taxi which the local station could provide.

As he arrived he met Arthur on the point of leaving. He had just deposited his suit-case in the car, but upon seeing Sir Martin, whom he did not expect, he explfi-ned that he had thought of leaving Ten Pines for a few days, since the worry and upset of the tragedy had got badly on his nerves.

" I just felt." he said, " that I could not stay in the house another day. It sounds a bit rude, I know, but you're like a second father to us both, and when Cynthia came back at lunch and said you wore coming down if you could, I thought perhaps you would take care of her and let me get a change of air until the funeral. I have been packing a few things, and I was putting my bag in the car when vol. came up."

" Why. man, you surely need not go off to-night."

" No, not as you have come now. We can have a good talk to-night, and I will start in the early morning."

The doctor knew the state of the young man's nerves so' well that he could not bring himself to rebuke the selfishness that would desert a sister during an anxious time.

"Of course you're perfectly right if you feel' knocked over, as I can understand you do. And I have teen a guest at Ten Pines so often that I should require no entertaining, even if Cynthia were not here to look after me."

During the next, hour or two he kept a sharp look-cut for any detail which his unexpected early visit might disclose, but nothing suspicious was revealed : and when, after dinner, he set himself to search for clues the result was utterly barren. The house was not large enough for a very big staff of servants, and all engaged were obviously outside the possibility of complicity in the crime. Only the housekeeper would benefit by the will, and the doctor, who had known her for thirty years, would sooner have suspected Cynthia, Arthur, or himself.

Arthur Henley's account tallied exactly with his sister's. He had cleaned some golf balls and then driven straight to the links, thinking that Cynthia would follow —which he had understood to be the arrangement. Then he had learned of the tragedy on his return for lunch. His account of the dead man confirmed Cynthia's in every detail. He too had been horrified at the look of terror, and was equally at a loss to suggest an explanation. ,

He was ready to help in any possible manner, and placed his father's keys at the doctor's disposal, in case an examination of his papers seemed worth while. And then with apologies for tiredness he went up to bed before ten o'clock, promising not to leave in the morning without giving the doctor a call.

For nearly an hour Sir Martin puzzled over the perplexities of the problem. But for 'one conclusive piece of evidence furnished by Cynthia's story, he would have been tempted to accept the theory of natural death. That one detail, however, was so decisive that he could not lay the case aside.

Taking with him the dead man's keys he went thoughtfully to the library, and sitting at the desk endeavoured to reconstruct the crime. Outside the three large windows in the room lay a stone verandih, by which the murderer might easily have entered and soaped ,'unobserved. So far all was simple. But what had been done to cause death ? There . were no marks of violence and 110 symptoms of poisoning. The only likely hypothesis was that the murderer had discovered some fiendish means of frightening his victim, with fatal results.

His mind began to travel or fantastic lines. Supposing there had been some man cr woman of the past, whose sudden clue of which he was certain, and, moreappearance would cause a profound shock? But- that would not account for the one over, he knew that, for his old friend, there were no such skeletons in the cupboard-

Abandoning this as fruitless he opened the desk in front of him and scanned it ea-erlv for anv letter which might have brought bad ' news. The pigeon-ho.es were crammed with papers, but the table of the desk was bare, except for a pad of blotting-paper. Around the pad the dust was thick, for Mr. Henley had kept his desk locked and its interior was dusted only on rare occasions when Cynthia appeared armed with her duster at an opportune moment, and determined to take no refusals.

Baffled once more Sir Martin sat back in his chair and lit a fresh cigar. No ashtray stood near, and he was laying his match-end on the corner of the desk when something caught his eye which caused him to lower the movable electric light down to the surface of the table and examine it with the utmost care.

For in the dust around the blottingpad faint curling marks were visible, as though some finger had traced twisting circles at random. Here and there they were strong and defined; in other places so light as to be barely noticeable. They seemed to pivo him the ciue He sought, as he closed down the desk with manifest relief, and went straight out to the garage as silently as possible. By good fortune the suit-case was still there, * in Arthur's car, and unlocked. Quickly he opened the clasps and, ex-

tracked the sole contents— small black deed-box, with the initials A-H. on the lid. This, however, was fastened securely ■with a lode which no key but the owner would open, and the only trs.ee of that for which the doctor searched was in a faint pungent smell, which came from a slight bulge in the lid. where to a small degree it had been forced slight-y out. wards. v

He rattled the box violently from side to side, then held it quite still, and listened attentively until the sound of movement within told him that- his conjecture ps at any rate near the truth. Carrying the box under his arm he tiptoed back to the library, and at once 'phoned through to Scotland lard lor Delane, who had been a useful assistant on several occasions in the past.

Delane was available, and made no difficulties about reaching Ten Tines >by 6-30 next morning.

111. Shortly before the hour arranged tb« housekeeper knocked at Sir Martin s doorc*. " A Mr. Delane is here, and says he has an appointment with you.

" Verv well, Mrs. Tumbull. I will seo him now if you will send him -up."

The officer from 'the Yard was full eff interest and curiosity as the details wene related.

"The mystery attracted my attention as soon as" it appeared in the paers, ana I got from the local men vesterday att the information they had. But the baafling thing is to find any evidence of foul play that you could put before a jury. ' Sir Martin took the deed-box from a cupboard. " I think we will ask -in. Arthur to open this box for us, he sand. " His bedroom is on this landing, and as he is, leaving early we ought to go at once."

Inside the young man room were no preparations for departure. Instead, there lav on the bed a limp and pitiable jiffure, with head buried against the pillows,- and all the outward signs of one whom reason had deserted.

"The eyes—the eyes—his eyes!" he moaned with low cries, that rose at. intervals to piercing shrieks of agony and terror.

"Will you sit beside him, Delane, anjd see that he comes to no harm, while X try those keys which I see on the dressr ing-table behind you?" " You have travelled ahead of me, Sir ,'Martin. This poor young chap, in his delirium, does not put me any nearer a solution-"

The doctor took from his dresinsg -gcwu pocket a pair of stout leather motor gauntlets, and handled th© deed-box expectantly. " Let me take you through the -ease up to this point as I hava worked it out It is a pretty problem of observation, ana deduction, and the contents of this bo* will soon right me if I have been mis* taken. ■ >

"My first suspicions fell naturally upon this poor fellow here, for I knew a» an old friend of his father's-I am on® of the executorsthat he would hava most to gain by the old man's deathAny other might have been content to wait for th©few years that at most could remain to a man with oronio hearttrouble. But he could not wait, X expect. We should probably find, if to examined his affairs, thai there were urgent claims, debts of honour . and .dishonour, which could not be delayed.

" The father had come to the end of his patience and would provide no more money, and the son conceives the • horrible "idea of taking his father's life- Let us try to believe that he put it from him. and that he yielded only when ruin and disgrace faced him as an alternative*.- " He knew that if he can cause a cruel shock, the weak heart will fail, and there will be every appearance of natural death* If he is to commit a cold-blooded murCer it will be by that method. But, how to cause such terror ? It must be something out of the ordinary, and the instrument must be one that can easily be manipulated and produced at' the right time. Yet what conceivable thing that man can handle and produce at will exists lor such a purpose?

" I had reached this point as I travelled down in the train yesterday, and there I stuck. The whole thing seemed too diabolical, and the boy, when I met him, gave mp such ready help that I reproached myself for a fiendish suspicion. Only my one s*re clue told me that murder there had been, and that I could not abandon tho case. " Then markings on the desk before which my dead friend had • sat put the matter beyond doubt, and I think wnen we open this box we shall know for certain." Adjusting his leather gauntlets Sir Martin turned the key in the lock, whipped open the lid, and grasped behind the head the writhing mass within* With the end of a pencil he prised open the mouth and examined the fangs; then dropped it back and shut down tie cover. "You see "what has happened, Del ana ? "Here is an ordinary English viper, with" poison fangs withdrawn for' safety in handling, and probably purchased from some London dealer. y'3:-,- . We can now reconstruct th» crime. He has this thing in his possession, and he has, as you see from this collection of keys obtained 1 a dummy that will open his father's desk. He has only to wait until his sister speaks of an early shopping expedition, and he is then sure that the only possible witness will be away. He slips out oi the room and puts his reptile in the deiik which he knows his father will open in a few minutes. And the sch&ne does' not miscarry cannot. Mr. Henley comes as .usual to deal with letters, raises the roll-top and finds this loathesome thing making' for freedom as it leaps toward him. He would be a strong man, Delane, who could take a shock like that easily. Some men and most women would carry the mental scars of such a moment, to their grave. For this man, who had a more than usual dread of animals of all sorts, the shock is fatal. The lines of agon< on his face after death bear witness to his terror.

It only remained for the murderer m the garage close at hand, to slip in at» the window, secure his instrument, and congratulate himself that his crime is beyond detection." From the figure on the bed still cartia the saw piteous cry, " The eyes—oh take away the eves!

" I still cannot guess," said Delane, '• what, made sou so certain that _ murder had been committed. '

•• It is an interesting point," answered Sir Martin, " and on© that a medical man would not so easily miss as a lav man. The eyes of the corpse were closed. Does that tell you nothing?"

" Nothing at all. I am afraid,", an- - swered Delane.

'■ It is a point worth a place in your note-book. For man, contrary' to the usual belief, does not die with closed eyes. When therefore I learned from Miss Henley that she had found her father's eyes closed I knew for certain that he had been murdered by the person who closed his eyes, which he did 110 doubt, in fear of their accusing gaze, or from fear that they would haunt him, as criminals have been known to do on several occasions before. That it was so in this case the young man there is telling us himself. " And now, Delane," he continued. "I want vou to forget that you have been here. 'you can take my word thatArthur Henley will never be a sane man again. He has his punishment, and no Court would consider him fit to stand his trial. , .

"In the interests of Justice nothing will be lost bv your silence, but. it will s mean a good deal to the sister in her bereavement that this terrible crime should not be added to her burden. „ . ,

" Her brother's insanity cannot be"the ■* same shock, for she has 'known', too? long that he was walking down the t paths > where madness is apt to he." * "- m With some reluctance Delane agr©®d» « [=• --i . /-A * ,\-<V tk