“ ‘I wouldn’t like to swear.’
“The coroner tried to press him, but with true British stolidity he repeated: ‘I wouldn’t like to say.’
“ ‘Well, then, what happened?’ asked the coroner, who had perforce to abandon his point.
“ ‘The gentleman went upstairs, sir, and about a quarter of an hour later he come down again, and I let him out. He was in a great hurry then, he threw me a half-crown and said: “Good night.” ’
“ ‘And though you saw him again then, you cannot tell us if you would know him again?’
“Once more the hall porter’s eyes wandered as if instinctively to a certain face in the court; once more he hesitated for many seconds which seemed like so many hours, during which a man’s honour, a man’s life, hung perhaps in the balance.
“Then Peter Tyrrell repeated slowly: ‘I wouldn’t swear.’
“But coroner and jury alike, aye, and every spectator in that crowded court, had seen that the man’s eyes had rested during that one moment of hesitation upon the face of the Earl of Brockelsby.”
XXXIII
The Living and the Dead
The man in the corner blinked across at Polly with his funny mild blue eyes.
“No wonder you are puzzled,” he continued, “so was everybody in the court that day, everyone save myself. I alone could see in my mind’s eye that gruesome murder such as it had been committed, with all its details, and, above all, its motive, and such as you will see it presently, when I place it all clearly before you.
“But before you see daylight in this strange case, I must plunge you into further darkness, in the same manner as the coroner and jury were plunged on the following day, the second day of that remarkable inquest. It had to be adjourned, since the appearance of Mr. Timothy Beddingfield had now become of vital importance. The public had come to regard his absence from Birmingham at this critical moment as decidedly remarkable, to say the least of it, and all those who did not know the lawyer by sight wished to see him in his Inverness cape and Glengarry cap such as he had appeared before the several witnesses on the night of the awful murder.
“When the coroner and jury were seated, the first piece of information which the police placed before them was the astounding statement that Mr. Timothy Beddingfield’s whereabouts had not been ascertained, though it was confidently expected that he had not gone far and could easily be traced. There was a witness present who, the police thought, might throw some light as to the lawyer’s probable destination, for obviously he had left Birmingham directly after his interview with the deceased.
“This witness was Mrs. Higgins, who was Mr. Beddingfield’s housekeeper. She stated that her master was in the constant habit—especially latterly—of going up to London on business. He usually left by a late evening train on those occasions, and mostly was only absent thirty-six hours. He kept a portmanteau always ready packed for the purpose, for he often left at a few moments’ notice. Mrs. Higgins added that her master stayed at the Great Western Hotel in London, for it was there that she was instructed to wire if anything urgent required his presence back in Birmingham.
“ ‘On the night of the 14th,’ she continued, ‘at nine o’clock or thereabouts, a messenger came to the door with the master’s card, and said that he was instructed to fetch Mr. Beddingfield’s portmanteau, and then to meet him at the station in time to catch the 9:35 p.m. up train. I gave him the portmanteau, of course, as he had brought the card, and I had no idea there could be anything wrong; but since then I have heard nothing of my master, and I don’t know when he will return.’
“Questioned by the coroner, she added that Mr. Beddingfield had never stayed away quite so long without having his letters forwarded to him. There was a large pile waiting for him now; she had written to the Great Western Hotel, London, asking what she should do about the letters, but had received no reply. She did not know the messenger by sight who had called for the portmanteau. Once or twice before Mr. Beddingfield had sent for his things in that manner when he had been dining out.
“Mr. Beddingfield certainly wore his Inverness cape over his dress clothes when he went out at about six o’clock in the afternoon. He also wore a Glengarry cap.
“The messenger had so far not yet been found, and from this point—namely, the sending for the portmanteau—all traces of Mr. Timothy Beddingfield seem to have been lost. Whether he went up to London by that 9:35 train or not could not be definitely ascertained. The police had questioned at least a dozen porters at the railway, as well as ticket collectors; but no one had any special recollection of a gentleman in an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap, a costume worn by more than one first-class passenger on a cold night in September.
“There was the hitch, you see; it all lay in this. Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, the lawyer, had undoubtedly made himself scarce. He was last seen in company with the deceased, and wearing an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap; two or three witnesses saw him leaving the hotel at about 9:15. Then the messenger calls at the lawyer’s house for the portmanteau, after which Mr. Timothy Beddingfield seems to vanish into thin air; but—and that is a great ‘but’—the night porter at the Castle seems to have seen someone wearing the momentous Inverness and Glengarry half an hour or so later on, and going up to deceased’s room, where he stayed about a quarter of an hour.
“Undoubtedly you will say, as everyone said to themselves that day after the night porter and Mrs. Higgins had been heard, that there was
