The Eight of Swords

body were found floating in the river some miles still further down, he would scarcely be connected—'

Dr. Fell paused. He flipped up his hand as though he were tossing something away.

'You know a hell of a lot, don't you?' the other asked quietly. 'Suppose I admitted it? You couldn't prove any blackmail charge. We arranged a friendly litde conversation; that was all.'

'Agreed… Well, how did you manage it?'

The other seemed to come to a decision. He shrugged his thin shoulders. 'O.K. I'll risk it. — Bulletproof vest. I trusted old Nick Depping about as far as I can throw that desk. Even so, he nearly got me. I was standing on the river bank — that litde creek they call a river — at the foot of a meadow where there's a clump of trees. We'd arranged to meet there. It was moonlight, but clouding up already. I didn't know he was going to start anything. I thought maybe he'd come to terms, like any sensible man who was caught with the goods…' He thrust out his neck and wriggled his head from side to side; his collar seemed to be too tight. They could see his teeth now.

'And then I heard a noise behind a tree. I whirled around, and there was somebody steadying a rod against the side of a tree, and taking a flat bead on me so close he couldn't miss. It didn't look like Nick — this guy with the rod, I mean. He looked young, and had a moustache, from what I could see in the moonlight. But I heard Nick's voice, all right. He said, 'You'll never do it again.' And then he let me have it, and I saw one of Nick's gold teeth.

'I didn't think of falling in the river. The slug knocked me in; square in the chest — through the heart if I hadn't been wearing that vest. But once I was in the water I got my senses back. It's deep, and there's hell's own current. I went downstream underwater as far as I could, and came up round a bend. He thought he'd got me.'

'What then?'

'I went back to that little hotel where I'm staying. I changed my clothes, and I went to bed. Now get this! — get it straight. You're not going to pin any rap on me. This talk about my following Nick Depping home is bluff, and you know it.' He was fiercely trying to hold Dr. Fell's eyes, as though to drive belief in like a nail. 'Bluff. Every word of it. I didn't stir out of that room. You think I wanted more heat? I wasn't going to face Nick Depping. I never handled a rod in my life, and I never will. Why should I?'

His voice was cracking with intensity. 'Look up my record and see if I ever handled a rod. I'm as good a man as Nick Depping ever was, but I wasn't going back there; I wasn't mad at him for trying to iron me. Fortunes of war, see? Kill him? Not me. And if I did want him to — ah, advance me a little loan, do you think I'd be crazy enough to try anything like that?' He hammered the arm of his chair. 'Do you?'

Throughout all this, Inspector Murch had been trying to take rapid notes; he seemed to be struggling with the idiom, and several times on the point of protest. But now there was a tight smile on his sandy moustache. Hugh Donovan could see what was going on in his mind; he had still against Spinelli that evidence of his having changed clothes and crawled out the window of the Chequers Inn a second time… Then Hugh saw that Dr. Fell was also looking at the inspector. Murch, who had just opened his mouth to speak, stopped. His boiled eye was puzzled.

And Dr. Fell chuckled.

'Bluff?' he said musingly. 'I know it.'

'You — you know…?'

'Hm, yes. But I had to persuade you to talk, you see,' the doctor said. 'As a matter of fact, we are fairly well satisfied that you had nothing to do with the murder. I neglected to tell you,' he beamed, 'that you were seen by the landlord's wife at the Chequers, climbing back into the window of your room, soaking wet, at about ten o'clock'

'And not leave it again—?' Spinelli asked the question after a very brief pause; he seemed almost to have stopped breathing.

'And not leave it again. There, my friend, is your corroboration.'

After this thundering lie, Dr. Fell looked as benevolent as Old King Cole. Spinelli's shoulders jerked.

'You mean — I can go? You're not going to hold me? Even as a material witness?'

'You may go. Get out of the country in forty-eight hours, and you shall not be held.'

A sort of wild, malignant hope was in Spinelli's face.

He had drawn himself back, with one hand against his chest. You could see that he was thinking fast, sifting chances, wondering, feeling for a trap; but he could not help saying: 'Say, you told me a week! A week to leave the country, that's what you said. A week—'

'Man,' interposed Dr. Fell softly, 'will you never let well-enough alone? There are a number of dangerous questions I could have insisted on your answering; and you evaded them. Very well. Since I don't believe you shot Depping, I am willing to let that pass. But, by God, my friend! — if you question me, or argue with me, or try to quibble about time limits, you will get no mercy at all' He struck the handle of his stick on the table. 'Speak up! What's it to be? Freedom, or gaol?'

'Oh, I’ll go! Listen, governor, please! I didn't mean anything. I wasn't trying to give you any back-talk…' The man spoke with a sort of eager and slobbering whine. 'All I meant was — well, it's sudden. And I'd like,' here he spoke slowly, as though he were watching the doctor with furtive care to see the effect of his words, 'I'd naturally like to speak with my mouthpiece — my lawyer — and sort of — arrange things, you know; but he's tied up here, and I thought maybe I might have more time. That's all I meant.'

For an instant, as the doctor bent over to pick up a matchbox he had knocked on the floor, Hugh saw the faintest twitch of a smile under his moustache. With a grunt Dr. Fell hoisted himself again.

'Humph. Well, I see no objection to that. Unless, of course, it comes from Mr. Langdon? I think he said a while ago that your conduct was insufferable, and that he was inclined to wash his hands of—'

Langdon was instantly all smiles and deprecation.

For some reason he seemed as relieved as Spinelli at the turn matters had taken. He almost clucked. Rolling bis dog's eyes about, talking with a glutinous ease, he assured them that his first duty (after all) was to his client; that he had spoken with unintentional warmth, and under pardonable stress; finally, that he would be most happy to assist his client with any advice in his power.

'I mean,' insisted Spinelli, still watching Dr. Fell, 'could you let us talk now — in private? Listen, if Fve got to get out of England in a hurry, then I won't have time to see him…!'

The doctor seemed reluctant, but allowed himself to be persuaded. Murch, who was plainly mystified, agreed. The drawing-room was put at the disposal of Spinelli and Langdon, and they were ushered out by the constable. Langdon stood in the doorway to deliver a little speech, flashing his smile and assuring them that he would be only a few minutes; then he faded out after Spinelli with a rather ghostly effect of disappearance. The door closed.

Inspector Murch watched it close. He swung round on Dr. Fell.

'Well, sir! You'm got some idea in this! What is it? Ah, but now yon pair do have a chance to put their heads together!'

'Yes,' agreed the doctor. 'Never have I accomplished a design with less trouble. They clamored for it. Gentlemen, the game is getting rapid now, and somebody is going to lose a number of tricks in a very short time. I wonder—'

'Eh, sir?'

'I wonder,' said the doctor musingly, and poked at the table with his cane, 'whether Spinelli is still wearing his bullet-proof vest? I rather suspect he will find it valuable before long. Steady, now! In the meantime, I want to talk about ladies’

CHAPTER XIV The Devil and Maw Standish

Uneasily Murch rubbed a hand across his sandy cropped hair. He glanced at the bishop, as though he wondered whether such matters should be discussed in the episcopal presence.

'About ladies, sir? You mean — what Mr. Langdon said about a lady from hereabouts? Ah, ah! S'help me, I hate to say it—!'