"Yes," said the detective, thoughtfully, "I noticed that he'd worn a ring, and that it had been a bit tight for him. Wellnow there's only one thing to ask about. Did your chambermaid notice if he left any torn paper aroundtore any letters up, or anything like that?"
But the chambermaid, produced, had not noticed anything of the sort; on the contrary, the gentleman of Number 20 had left his room very tidy indeed. So Rathbury intimated that he had no more to ask, and nothing further to say, just then, and he bade the landlord and landlady of the Anglo-Orient Hotel good morning, and went away, followed by the two young men.
"What next?" asked Spargo, as they gained the street.
"The next thing," answered Rathbury, "is to find the man with whom Marbury left this hotel last night."
"And how's that to be done?" asked Spargo.
"At present," replied Rathbury, "I don't know."
And with a careless nod, he walked off, apparently desirous of being alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
SPARGO WISHES TO SPECIALIZEThe barrister and the journalist, left thus unceremoniously on a crowded pavement, looked at each other. Breton laughed.
"We don't seem to have gained much information," he remarked. "I'm about as wise as ever."
"Nowiser," said Spargo. "At any rate, I am. I know now that this dead man called himself John Marbury; that he came from Australia; that he only landed at Southampton yesterday morning, and that he was in the company last night of a man whom we have had described to usa tall, grey-bearded, well-dressed man, presumably a gentleman."
Breton shrugged his shoulders.
"I should say that description would fit a hundred thousand men in London," he remarked.
"Exactlyso it would," answered Spargo. "But we know that it was one of the hundred thousand, or half-million, if you like. The thing is to find that onethe one."
"And you think you can do it?"
"I think I'm going to have a big try at it."
Breton shrugged his shoulders again.
"What?by going up to every man who answers the description, and saying 'Sir, are you the man who accompanied John Marbury to the Anglo"
Spargo suddenly interrupted him.
"Look here!" he said. "Didn't you say that you knew a man who lives in that block in the entry of which Marbury was found?"
"No, I didn't," answered Breton. "It was Mr. Elphick who said that. All the same, I do know that manhe's Mr. Cardlestone, another barrister. He and Mr. Elphick are friendsthey're both enthusiastic philatelistsstamp collectors, you knowand I dare say Mr. Elphick was round there last night examining something new Cardlestone's got hold of. Why?"
"I'd like to go round there and make some enquiries," replied Spargo.
"If you'd be kind enough to"
"Oh, I'll go with you!" responded Breton, with alacrity. "I'm just as keen about this business as you are, Spargo! I want to know who this man Marbury is, and how he came to have my name and address on him. Now, if I had been a well-known man in my profession, you know, why"
"Yes," said Spargo, as they got into a cab, "yes, that would have explained a lot. It seems to me that we'll get at the murderer through that scrap of paper a lot quicker than through Rathbury's line. Yes, that's what I think."
Breton looked at his companion with interest.
"Butyou don't know what Rathbury's line is," he remarked.
"Yes, I do," said Spargo. "Rathbury's gone off to discover who the man is with whom Marbury left the Anglo-Orient Hotel last night. That's his line." "And you want?"
"I want to find out the full significance of that bit of paper, and who wrote it," answered Spargo. "I want to know why that old man was coming to you when he was murdered."
Breton started.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "II never thought of that. Youyou really think he was coming to me when he was struck down?"
"Certain. Hadn't he got an address in the Temple? Wasn't he in the Temple? Of course, he was trying to find you."
"Butthe late hour?"
"No matter. How else can you explain his presence in the Temple? I think he was asking his way. That's why I want to make some enquiries in this block."
It appeared to Spargo that a considerable number of people, chiefly of the office-boy variety, were desirous of making enquiries about the dead man. Being luncheon-hour, that bit of Middle Temple Lane where the body was found, was thick with the inquisitive and the sensation-seeker, for the news of the murder had spread, and though there was nothing to see but the bare stones on which the body had lain, there were more open mouths and staring eyes around the entry than Spargo had seen for many a day. And the nuisance had become so great that the occupants of the adjacent chambers had sent for a policeman to move the curious away, and when Spargo and his companion presented themselves at the entry this policeman was being lectured as to his duties by a little weazen-faced gentleman, in very snuffy and old-fashioned garments, and an ancient silk hat, who was obviously greatly exercised by the unwonted commotion.
"Drive them all out into the street!" exclaimed this personage. "Drive them all away, constableinto Fleet Street or upon the Embankmentanywhere, so long as you rid this place of them. This is a disgrace, and an inconvenience, a nuisance, a"
"That's old Cardlestone," whispered Breton. "He's always irascible, and I don't suppose we'll get anything out of him. Mr. Cardlestone," he continued, making his way up to the old gentleman who was now retreating up the stone steps, brandishing an umbrella as ancient as himself. "I was just coming to see you, sir. This is Mr. Spargo, a journalist, who is much interested in this murder. He"
"I know nothing about the murder, my dear sir!" exclaimed Mr. Cardlestone. "And I never talk to journalistsa pack of busybodies, sir, saving your presence. I am not aware that any murder has been committed, and I object to my doorway being filled by a pack of office boys and street loungers. Murder indeed! I suppose the man fell down these steps and broke his neckdrunk, most likely."
He opened his outer door as he spoke, and Breton, with a reassuring smile and a nod at Spargo, followed him into his chambers on the first landing, motioning the journalist to keep at their heels.
"Mr. Elphick tells me that he was with you until a late hour last evening, Mr. Cardlestone," he said. "Of course, neither of you heard anything suspicious?"
"What should we hear that was suspicious in the Temple, sir?" demanded Mr. Cardlestone, angrily. "I hope the Temple is free from that sort of thing, young Mr. Breton. Your respected guardian and myself had a quiet evening on our usual peaceful pursuits, and when he went away all was as quiet as the grave, sir. What may have gone on in the chambers above and around me I know not! Fortunately, our walls are thick, sirsubstantial. I say, sir, the man probably fell down and broke his neck. What he was doing here, I do not presume to say."
"Well, it's guess, you know, Mr. Cardlestone," remarked Breton, again winking at Spargo. "But all that was found on this man was a scrap of paper on which my name and address were written. That's practically all that was known of him, except that he'd just arrived from Australia."
Mr. Cardlestone suddenly turned on the young barrister with a sharp, acute glance.
"Eh?" he exclaimed. "What's this? You say this man had your name and address on him, young Breton!yours? And that he came fromAustralia?"
"That's so," answered Breton. "That's all that's known."
Mr. Cardlestone put aside his umbrella, produced a bandanna handkerchief of strong colours, and blew his nose in a reflective fashion.
"That's a mysterious thing," he observed. "Umdoes Elphick know all that?"
Breton looked at Spargo as if he was asking him for an explanation of Mr. Cardlestone's altered manner. And Spargo took up the conversation.
"No," he said. "All that Mr. Elphick knows is that Mr. Ronald Breton's name and address were on the scrap of paper found on the body. Mr. Elphick"here Spargo paused and looked at Breton"Mr. Elphick," he presently continued, slowly transferring his glance to the old barrister, "spoke of going to view the body."
"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Cardlestone, eagerly. "It can be seen? Then I'll go and see it. Where is it?"
Breton started.
"Butmy dear sir!" he said. "Why?"
Mr. Cardlestone picked up his umbrella again.
"I feel a proper curiosity about a mystery which occurs at my very door," he said. "Also, I have known more than one man who went to Australia. This mightI say might, young gentlemenmight be a man I had once known. Show me where this body is."
Breton looked helplessly at Spargo: it was plain that he did not understand the turn that things were taking. But Spargo was quick to seize an opportunity. In another minute he was conducting Mr. Cardlestone through the ins and outs of the Temple towards Blackfriars. And as they turned into Tudor Street they encountered Mr. Elphick.
"I am going to the mortuary," he remarked. "So, I suppose, are you, Cardlestone? Has anything more been discovered, young man?"
Spargo tried a chance shotat what he did not know. "The man's name was Marbury," he said. "He was from Australia."
He was keeping a keen eye on Mr. Elphick, but he failed to see that Mr.
Elphick showed any of the surprise which Mr. Cardlestone had exhibited.
Rather, he seemed indifferent.
"Oh?" he said"Marbury? And from Australia. WellI should like to see the body."
Spargo and Breton had to wait outside the mortuary while the two elder gentlemen went in. There was nothing to be learnt from either when they reappeared.
"We don't know the man," said Mr. Elphick, calmly. "As Mr. Cardlestone, I understand, has said to you alreadywe have known men who went to Australia, and as this man was evidently wandering about the Temple, we thought it might have been one of them, come back. Butwe don't recognize him."
"Couldn't recognize him," said Mr. Cardlestone. "No!"
They went away together arm in arm, and Breton looked at Spargo.
"As if anybody on earth ever fancied they'd recognize him!" he said.
"Wellwhat are you going to do now, Spargo? I must go."
Spargo, who had been digging his walking-stick into a crack in the pavement, came out of a fit of abstraction.
"I?" he said. "OhI'm going to the office." And he turned abruptly away, and walking straight off to the editorial rooms at the Watchman, made for one in which sat the official guardian of the editor. "Try to get me a few minutes with the chief," he said.
The private secretary looked up.
"Really important?" he asked.
"Big!" answered Spargo. "Fix it."
Once closeted with the great man, whose idiosyncrasies he knew pretty well by that time, Spargo lost no time.
"You've heard about this murder in Middle Temple Lane?" he suggested.
"The mere facts," replied the editor, tersely.
"I was there when the body was found," continued Spargo, and gave a brief résumé of his doings. "I'm certain this is a most unusual affair," he went on. "It's as full of mystery asas it could be. I want to give my attention to it. I want to specialize on it. I can make such a story of it as we haven't had for some timeages. Let me have it. And to start with, let me have two columns for tomorrow morning. I'll make itbig!"
The editor looked across his desk at Spargo's eager face.
"Your other work?" he said.
"Well in hand," replied Spargo. "I'm ahead a whole weekboth articles and reviews. I can tackle both."
The editor put his finger tips together.
"Have you got some idea about this, young man?" he asked.
"I've got a great idea," answered Spargo. He faced the great man squarely, and stared at him until he had brought a smile to the editorial face. "That's why I want to do it," he added. "Andit's not mere boasting nor over-confidenceI know I shall do it better than anybody else."
The editor considered matters for a brief moment.
"You mean to find out who killed this man?" he said at last.
Spargo nodded his headtwice.
"I'll find that out," he said doggedly.
The editor picked up a pencil, and bent to his desk.
"All right," he said. "Go ahead. You shall have your two columns."
Spargo went quietly away to his own nook and corner. He got hold of a block of paper and began to write. He was going to show how to do things.
CHAPTER SIX
WITNESS TO A MEETINGRonald Breton walked into the Watchman office and into Spargo's room next morning holding a copy of the current issue in his hand. He waved it at Spargo with an enthusiasm which was almost boyish.
"I say!" he exclaimed. "That's the way to do it, Spargo! I congratulate you. Yes, that's the waycertain!"
Spargo, idly turning over a pile of exchanges, yawned.
"What way?" he asked indifferently.
"The way you've written this thing up," said Breton. "It's a hundred thousand times better than the usual cut-and-dried account of a murder. It'sit's like aa romance!"
"Merely a new method of giving news," said Spargo. He picked up a copy of the Watchman, and glanced at his two columns, which had somehow managed to make themselves into three, viewing the displayed lettering, the photograph of the dead man, the line drawing of the entry in Middle Temple Lane, and the facsimile of the scrap of grey paper, with a critical eye. "Yesmerely a new method," he continued. "The question iswill it achieve its object?"
"What's the object?" asked Breton.
Spargo fished out a box of cigarettes from an untidy drawer, pushed it over to his visitor, helped himself, and tilting back his chair, put his feet on his desk.
"The object?" he said, drily. "Oh, well, the object is the ultimate detection of the murderer."
"You're after that?"
"I'm after thatjust that."
"And notnot simply out to make effective news?"
"I'm out to find the murderer of John Marbury," said Spargo deliberately slow in his speech. "And I'll find him."
"Well, there doesn't seem to be much in the way of clues, so far," remarked Breton. "I seenothing. Do you?"
Spargo sent a spiral of scented smoke into the air.
"I want to know an awful lot," he said. "I'm hungering for news. I want to know who John Marbury is. I want to know what he did with himself between the time when he walked out of the Anglo-Orient Hotel, alive and well, and the time when he was found in Middle Temple Lane, with his skull beaten in and dead. I want to know where he got that scrap of paper. Above everything, Breton, I want to know what he'd got to do with you!"
He gave the young barrister a keen look, and Breton nodded.
"Yes," he said. "I confess that's a corker. But I think"
"Well?" said Spargo.
"I think he may have been a man who had some legal business in hand, or in prospect, and had been recommended tome," said Breton.
Spargo smileda little sardonically.
"That's good!" he said. "You had your very first briefyesterday. Comeyour fame isn't blown abroad through all the heights yet, my friend! Besidesdon't intending clients approachisn't it strict etiquette for them to approach?barristers through solicitors?"
"Quite rightin both your remarks," replied Breton, good-humouredly. "Of course, I'm not known a bit, but all the same I've known several cases where a barrister has been approached in the first instance and asked to recommend a solicitor. Somebody who wanted to do me a good turn may have given this man my address."