Then its a complete mystery. He was found by Harris, the keeper, last night?
Yes, sir, answered Booth. Hed been dead then some hours. Dr Richards says its murder. Hes goin to make the post-mortem this afternoon.
Has the revolver been found? he asked.
No, sir. Weve been searching all the morning, but can find nothing.
And what was in his pockets? inquired Winsloe, his anxiety well disguised.
Nothing.
Nothing at all? he demanded.
Oh! a knife, a piece of pencil, a little money and a few odds and ends. But nothing of any use to us.
Then you cant identify him?
Unfortunately we cant, sir, was the mans reply.
We hope to find out who he is, but from all appearances hes a total stranger in these parts.
Its very evident that the murderer searched the poor fellows pockets, Jack said. He was afraid lest his victim might be identified.
Thats what we think, mlord, remarked one of Booths companions. The tab off the back of his jacket, which bore the makers name, has been cut out.
By the murderer? asked Wydcombe.
Probably so, mlord.
Then whoever killed him took good care to remove every scrap of evidence which might lead to his victims identification, Ellice Winsloe remarked, standing with his eyes fixed steadily upon the dead face.
Thats what our superintendent thinks. He believes that if we establish who the poor fellow is, that we shall have no difficulty in putting our hand upon the guilty person.
But did no one hear the shot? Winsloe inquired.
Nobody. The doctor thinks the affair took place late in the afternoon, answered Booth.
Winsloe pursed his white lips, and turned away. For an instant a haggard, fearsome look crossed his hard countenance the look of a man haunted by a guilty secret but a moment later, when Wydcombe turned to join him, his face changed, and he exclaimed lightly,
Lets get out of this. The things a complete mystery, and we must leave it to the police to puzzle it all out. Of course, therell be an inquest, and then we may hear something further.
At present the affair is a complete enigma, Jack remarked. Then, bending again towards the dead mans face, he added, Do you know, Ellice, I cant help thinking that Ive seen him before somewhere, but where, I cant for the life of me recollect.
I saw that Winsloe started, and he turned again. I dont recognise him in the least, he said quickly. A face is always altered by death. He now resembles, perhaps, somebody youve known.
Ah, perhaps so, remarked the young viscount. Yet I certainly have a faint impression of having seen him somewhere before or somebody very like him.
I hope your lordship will try and remember, urged the village constable. It would be of the greatest assistance to us.
Ill try and think, Booth. If I recollect Ill send for you, he answered.
Thank you, mlord, the constable replied, and as I glanced covertly at Winsloe I saw that his face had fallen.
Would Scarcliff recall who he really was?
To identify a dead person is always most difficult, Winsloe remarked with assumed disinterestedness. Ive heard of cases where half a dozen different families have laid claim to one dead body wives, mothers, children and intimate friends. No doubt lots of people are buried from time to time under names that are not their own. Richards, of any doctor, will tell you that a countenance when drawn by death is most difficult to recognise.
By those remarks I saw that he was trying very ingeniously to arouse doubt within Jacks mind, in order to prevent him making any statement. His attitude increased the mystery a hundredfold.
I recollected the secret Sybil had revealed to me on the previous afternoon when we had stood together in the Long Gallery how she had told me that she intended to many Winsloe. What he had said now aroused my suspicions.