THE Flambards Mystery

Sun (Christchurch), Volume I, Issue 196, 23 September 1914, Page 2

THE Flambards Mystery

[copyright.]

CHAPTER XXVII. THE END OF THE MYSTERY'. V "We must now return, Rolt proceeded, "to Flambards, and see what could have happened there after Wallace Rixon's departure. And here we come to the marvellous part of the story, a mystery ..which niust,,., however,.. b,e ;; . already in part,, if. not wholly, solved in your miri'ds' by a' circumstance T have mentioned. I refer to the lost half of Jurby's sleevelirik.

"And here the statement which I have got'from Jurby makes plain what would otherwise be rather wild conjecture.

''When that worthy practitioner got away from Wallace Rixon 's clutches and from Flambards, he had gone but a short distance before he. discovered that his cuff was unfastened and onehalf of the link was missing. The other still stuck in the button-hole. He at once,, realised the danger in which lie thereby stood. Otherwise the chances were that he had not been-re-cognised. ; Trite, his false beard had come off, but' the light through the glass above the door had been, hj? hoped, too faint and to momentary to have enabled his opponent to see his

face clearly. Besides the wig,' his falsa

complexion and altered figure were still calculated to make it impossible for young Rixon to swear to him." "Then he, on his side, had recognise 1 Rixon?'' I put in. <r Ycs," Rolt answered.'• "..His face Was towards the light at .the moment it shone through the door. Anyhow,

he had a shrewd idea as to who his , adversary was, an'idea which was subsequently confirmed. Well, it seemed a> pity to stand a chance of being convicted by his broken link; so, being a man of considerable daring, he resolved to take the risk of going back to seek it. ",As he was accordingly making his ivay stealthily towards the scene of his (ate. encounter he heard a rustling in the bushes and. immediately afterwards I man, his late opponent he was cer-

rushed out, running along the grass border as though flying for hi i life.-The little fox-terrier ran after him barking; Bixon pulled up, gave the" dog a savage kick, then' slipped out of the gate and'vanished in the darkness, leav-ing-the poor animal moaning in a state of collapse.''With the coast so far clear, Jurby ' crejft up to the study window. All was dark "and silent. He made his way rouiid to the dining room window;- nobbing, was to be seen or heard. Erabolcfened "by the''absence of any sign or . stir,in the .house, Jie returned to-the Btvdy window, which he found shut, but

mmssm> By Sir William Magnay, Bt Author of "The Heiress of the' Season," The Red Chancellor," " The Master Spirit." etc,

not fastened. He pushed it up softly, struck a match, and searched the floor for the broken link. As we know, he did not find it. The door communicating with the dining room was half open. Jurby went to it and listened. The unaccountable silence in the house, strange as succeeding what had lately happened there, puzzled him.'. Prompted .by »; natural impulse he looked Jnto the room, but in the shadow could distinguish nothing. It was a risky thing to do, but he cautiously struck a light arid, holding it up, took a survey of the room, his wonder at the quietude of the house becoming intensified. The loss of the tell-tale link continued to alarm him. Stooping down, he swept' the light round by the door on the chance of its having fallen or been kicked so far, and as he did so he saw with a start—someone under the dinner table.

"His first impulse was to make a bolt for it, with the idea that Rixon was lying there in ambush. Something, however, held him to the spot, as. he says; the attitude scarcely suggested a man lying in wait for him; the supine figure did not.move. .The wax match burnt out and left him in darkness with the grim thing. with a creeping of the flesh, he struck another match he half expected to find the man ready to spring upon him. But no; he lay motionless as before, and a faint inkling of what had happened came to Jurby's mind. He took courage-—after .all if he was found there he had not got 'the notes—and warily crawled nearer to the' prostrate figure: In the same moment that he. recognised old Rixon he,saw also that'he was dead. lie held' the light to" the grey face for some seconds to make sure, and there was no doubt of it. It must have been at that juncture, Mr Gelston, that you looked through the window. It was Jurby you saw for an instant as he rose from under the table, extinguished the light, disappeared into the study and thence, by the window, out of the house. :- '?He probably heard Miss A cher coming, since a few minutes later you saw'her in the room, holding a candle to view the dead man."

'* A singular exhibition of nerve on her part," Gelston commented. '' Yes," Bolt agreed reflectively; '' but I don't think that was her first knowledge of the tragedy. How much, or how little she must have seen ;of it before we can't say, but. that she was aware of what thad happened I am •pretty certain; and she, w,as probably drawn back* to the scene either by a strange fascination or in order to make sure that her uncle was dead.

"Having satisfied herself on that point she'must nave determined not to hasten the discovery • of the crime,

thereby giving her lover time to get clear out of the neighbourhood. Yes, the sound of her approach must have frightened Jurby away, and it was he who was seen by the witness Fisher coming out of the gate and hurrying in the direction of Mbmingford Place." •' I wonder he did not hear me when I stood rapping with my stick on the door,"' Gelston observed. "He savs he heard nothing," Rolt replied, ' '"or naturally he would not have waited for a close look at the dead man. He must have been too much engrossed in his search and by the shock of his discovery to noticed your rapping. I had the curiosity to-make the experiment, with the outer door of the study shut, and the sound of a walking-stick knocked on the door can be but faintly heard. .You must remember there is the short curtained passage intervening to deaden the sound.-

"So much for Jurby's statement, which, viewed in "the light of my own investigations and theories founded on them, bears the conviction of truth. After his gruesome discovery lie could only just have had time to : hurry home, change- his • dress and appearance, and receive his guests. *■•'. • " •■■ '•'•■ ; "A wonderful man," I remarked. 'i No one : could ,possibly imagined from his demeanour that evening what his afternoon's occupation had been." "I have no. doubt of that," Rolt agreed; N '<even if .you had suspected him. But then no one without strong nerves can' be a successful criminal. Steadiness and coolness in critical moments are essential. The loss of his link -worried him terribly, although it is not likely he showed his anxiety.'' "He naturally stood, then, in danger of conviction for the murder," Gelston said.

*' Yes,'' Bolt replied..," The situation was rather curious. . Notwithstanding that Jurby was morally certain of "the fact that young Bixon had killed his uncle, he dared not inform against him. It/would, in spite of the most plausible story he could have invented, have led to awkward enquiries, and must have given the death-blow to the very profit-, able business in which.he and his .friendsJ were engaged. No;, apart from the risk to himself, it would not have paid. Having missed ke, epipg hold of the notes, the affair at Flambards had no further interest for him;' he had other and more paying affairs to occupy his. attention. And he knew he had nothing to fear from Wallace Bixon, even if he had been recognised.," "My wonder is," I remarked, "that these men, when they found you were, on the spot, were rash enough to. continue their operations and take the almost mad risk of stealing the Ashbury wedding presents." Bolt laughed. '' You, happily, do not know the character of these gentry as well as I do. Subtlety, daring, and a sporting instinct are their jmncipal equipment. There is nothing, they like more than to bring off a coup under the very noses of the police. Jurby told' me in his cynical way that, while they certainly did regard with disfavour my appearance in the neighbourhood, they yet determined that it should, not interfere with their immediate plans,, which included a raid on the wedding presents at Bossington Court. Moreover, my 'being here enabled them to keep an eye. ' oh me. It would be a rich thing, a grand achievement, to make a big haul at ■ Eossingtoh while I was busy grubbing after clues at Flambards. You !see, it appears they were not quite cer-

tain that the prowler they shot at in the-grounds of Morningford Place Avas myself. In fact, Jurby rather leaned, he tells me, to the opinion that it was Wallace Rixoh.' He appears to have been, very naturally, concerned at the loss of his broken link. He took every opportunity of searching for it both in and outside the house, as Avhen you saw the mysterious light in the bushes, Mr Crofton. All the time, however, it Avas snug in my pocket-book, although, as the evidence became strengthened against Wallace Rixon, together with my conviction that it was he avlio killed the old man, its value depreciated consi* lerably. "Again, Jurby was :ill along quite confident that his real identity was-un-known to me. And so he went about playing the country gentleman as usual, while at the news'of my arrival in the place the others made themselves scarce, Richards and De la Cour going to London, .while EdAvards, or Errington, appears to haA-e stayed on secretly at Morningford Place, doubtless to settle the arrangements for the operation at Rossington Court. Yes," Bolt added reflectively, "they were a little too cocksure there. Jxirby was OA-er-confident in his disguise. '■ Sir Albert Wbodville stayed on to keep up the tone of Morningford Place, and Adaiv, the actor, .Axas brought down to keep up the idea that the Jurbys were rich, hospitable people, with a leaning towards amusement and Bohemianism. And so the time was filled in to the wedding day." ■ , "When their well-laid plans were brought to failure by a cleverer man. than themselves," I commented. Rolt gaA'e a deprecating shrug. "It was easy enough to checkmate them, having the clue as to the men's character and being consequently certain, as I was, that the attempt would be made."

"From my loophole o£ observation "in the bookcase, I, of course, saw the whole modus operandi of the theft. Edwards, or Errington, came, into the room got up as a waiter; he made a pretence of arranging the window, curtains, and then, seizing an opportunity when the pretended custodian's attention was diverted by ,Jurby, and the two pld, ladies were not looking,' he slipped behind the curtains and undid the window fastenings. When you, came . in, Mr Crofton,. I" was naturally ' amused. by your surprise at not being able to accoant for the man's disappearance." ''""I might easily have spoiled your cunningly-planned scheme,' 1 '! observed. "There was not much fear of that," Rolt assured me. "Johns would simply have given you a hint not to make a fuss. When Johns w;as .supposed to have been enticed out of the room by the bogus message, JMwards duly reappeared from behind the curtains, hastily grabbed up what, were apparently the most valuable pieces of jewellery, dropped them intp a canvas bag, and quickly made his escape by the window. What the sentiments of the gang must have been on finding fliey had been tricked with sham stuff may be imagined. It is now evidently a very sore point with Jurby." . ; "They got nothing worth having?" Gelston suggested.; ~■■•..;.-• ■ .■;- "A ten-pound note would cover the value of what they got away with," Rolt answered. And our capture, was well worth that. Everything was ; arranged to meet the attempt. I had contrived my place of observation in the bookcase, Johns, the detective, posing as the jeweller's man, had his instructions not to interfere with the thieves 7 procedure, and towards the end of the afteruoou sham jewellery was quietly substituted for the more valuable pieces. You see, there were reasons why we wished to let the thieves, get away, and.,not take them, red-handed. My plan was to wait and rope in the whole gang rather than pounce upon one or two of the number, and frighten the others away. .4nd I was always certain of being able to ; lay my hand on the highly respectable Mr Jurby. ! . "It is rather amusing, by the.way, to think that the Jurby's present, with which I took care they should not get away, was a diamond ornament, • • which had formed part of the proceeds of a raid in a house in Kent; while the one person who has scored so far over the operation is Lady Quarhampton, whose honorarium for the invitation to the wedding waff a sapphire and diamond brooch, doubtless stolen property, but as yet not claimed or identified. And until that happens the old lady insists on having the benefit of the doubt and sticking to the bauble. ' ."There, gentlemen, I think that concludes the history of the Flambards' crime and of a set of clever scoundrels j who had for so long defied detection. I With the actual murder they had little or nothing to do, but it is not their fault that they are now awaiting trial on nothing less than a charge of double murder*. lam sorry now that I was instrumental in drawing you, gentlemen, into an affair which turned out to be fraught with such danger, but I must confess I hardly realised the desperate character of the men with whom I had to deal. The real fact must be that Jurby, finding himself in danger,- took ! fright. He probably supposed I should want him, not for the robbery, but for the murder, and he suspected danger in that direction from my intercourse with you, Mr Gelston. You will remember when we were at Flambards together that afternoon I saw a man trying to watch us from the garden. It was Jurby. But allVwell that ■ ends well,, and I congratulate you on coming un-' scathed through your dangers. It will be a chapter such as few men can write hv their lives." ,

I have written the chapter now, after a comparatively uneventful subsequent career. The trial and conviction of my quondam host and all' but murderer, Jurby, with his smart colleagues, found me still at Morningf ord,. busy with the restoration of St. Gregory's Chapel, and striving to give my dead patron full value for his generosity in the pains I bestowed on the work, And in that I found my reward. .* Old JLuke Rixon's heiress and the hastily wedded wife of his slayer, having so fortunately become rid of her undesirable husband, married, some few years after these poignant events, a young sporting squire, and settled down to a peaceful icountry life.'Morningf ord Place, its traditions ignored or forgotten, ihas become the home of a man who really is what Jurby Md 'represented himself to be—a retired eity man; and I have since.dined, not without a shudder, in the room which :had so nearly beien my death-chamber. < /

Soon after the trial and conviction of Jujrby and liis friends, happening to go up| to town on business, I ran across the resplendent Charles Adair in the' Strand. <' A pretty business that about our friends down at Morningford,'' he observed, with a light-comedy laugh. "I thought they were a rum crowd, but little suspected their line was quite so drastic. What awful risks we run in the study of life and character which

the profession demands. "Why, I might have been murdered in my bed for my jewellery. I often wonder h'ow those beauties let me go away with it alive, \eh?"- ... "Perhaps they thought it was stage jewellery," I suggested blandly, and Adair has been cool to me eA-er since. [The End.]