Seeing is Believing

'Are these your colleagues?' 'Yes.'

'Will what I say go no further.- wait! unless it's necessary as evidence, of course?'

'Yes, sir,' replied Agnew, 'I think we can promise you that much, anyhow.'

'I was accused,' Rich went on, again without looking up, 'of doing exactly what Captain Sharpless, in all innocence (I hope) mentioned last night. While practicing as a psychiatrist, I was accused of taking advantage of a lady when she was under hypnotic influence.'

'So,' said H.M. 'Was the charge true?'

'The charge was not true,' replied Rich, with suffused violence. His hands shook. 'Every medical man runs similar dangers. He is a fool if he practices hypnotism without a witness present. Let me explain. Some dentists, for instance, refuse to give anesthetics to a female patient unless their assistants are present — as an assistant, but also as a witness.' He lifted his eyes. 'I'm speaking of medical matters. Do you understand me?'

'Yes, son. Very well.' Rich made a gesture.

'I was happily married, with two children. My wife took the children after the divorce.' He paused, and again made a gesture. 'I couldn't even understand the charge. Had it been

Hubert Fane, now, who was charged with that… but there we are. The thing meant ruin. Literal ruin.'

'Is 'Richard Rich' really your name?'

'It is now. It wasn't then. It's the name I took when I went on the stage.'

'On the stage?'

Rich lifted his shoulders.

'Well, a man must live. It was the only way I saw to make use of the profession I knew. Cbeap, if you like; but legitimate. I was extremely adept at hypnotism. That was my act. What I did tonight I have done a thousand times. I never vary it; I seldom fail in it. That's how I happened to have that revolver with the carefully prepared dummy bullets.'

'You did that turn on the stage?'

'No. Seldom on the stage. On the stage I used a usual, more hackneyed routine, sometimes with a girl- assistant named..' He waved his hand. 'No matter. This was usually done at private parties in private houses: concerts, Christmas entertainments, and the rest of it. It isn't so well suited to a big hall. I agreed to perform tonight when Captain Sharpless clamored for it, because…'

'Because?'

Again Rich lifted his shoulders.

'Well, because I wanted another good dinner. Things have not been very easy, these days.'

He brushed at his sleeve, and pushed back the shirt-cuff from his left wrist.

'So. Weren't you successful?'

'The idea,' Rich replied candidly, 'the routine, I thought was a good one. I still think so. I developed it myself. I thought it would take like wildfire. In fact, as far as interest is concerned, it can't fail. But—'

H.M. raised his eyebrows, prompting as Rich paused.

'But concert parties aren't so numerous. And I failed to take another danger into account. Once or twice—' the shadow of a smile went over his face, despite the strained eyes and the mottled red color in his forehead—'once or twice, I regret to say, the good wife has pulled the trigger of the dummy gun. Result: uproarious delight, for the moment. But do you think the wife liked it? Or the husband liked it? Or that other people, when the word went round, wanted me to experiment on them? No. My trick had one great fault; it wasn't a trick. It worked.'

Puffing out his breath, Rich looked down at his shirt-front, slapped the hands on his knees, and added abruptly:

'Successful? Do I look it?'

There was a silence.

H.M., scowling, turned round and lumbered to the windows at the end of the room. Outside, the rose-garden was silvered with moonlight. H.M. stared at it.

Philip Courtney could not help feeling a strong liking for the downcast, stocky little man in the chair. Everything Rich said had the ring of sincerity. You felt that he was, essentially, of a sincere and rather simple nature.

He had not mentioned certain facts which he had heard Vicky tell when she was under hypnosis. He had not passed on this information to the police — at least, not yet. But then neither had Courtney himself. And it was possible that Rich kept back this information out of ordinary decency.

H.M. swung round.

'As a matter of fact, d'ye see,' H.M. told Rich, 'what you've said really clears up the points I was goin' to ask about. I mean your credentials.'

'I can produce what were my credentials. There was no fraud about my show, if that's what you mean.'

'No,' agreed H.M. 'I don't think there was.' The corners of his mouth drew down. 'Who did you say insisted on your tryin' this 'experiment'?'

'Captain Sharpless.'

'Yes; but who brought you to the house?'

'Hubert Fane.'

'Oh? Did he suggest doin' it?'

'No. That was only incidental. To give Hubert his due: once he's seen thoroughly to his own comfort, he doesn't mind doing someone else a good turn. I used to know him years ago, when I was a reputable doctor. Then he went out to Kenya or somewhere, and I believe made money.' Rich grimaced. 'I wish to God I stood in his shoes.'

H.M. ignored this.

'How long have you been givin' these concert parties of yours?'

'Oh, off and on for three or four years.' 'Where?'

'All over the country.'

'I see. And anybody who attended one of 'em would know what you'd use, what you'd do, and even how long it would take you to do it?'

'Yes, I suppose so.'

'Humph. Yes. You see what we're gettin' at. Of these people here: do you remember ever havin' met any of 'em at any of your parties before tonight?'

Rich rubbed his head.

'My dear sir, that's almost impossible to say. It is impossible to say. Aside from Hubert, to the best of my knowledge I never set eyes on any of the people before last night. That's why—' his tone was whimsical—'I hope you won't suspect me of any complicity in Mr. Fane's death. I certainly didn't kill a man I'd never even met before. But as for any of them being present at one of my shows, all I can say is that I don't remember. At the same time…'

The door to the hall opened, and Ann Browning slipped in so unobtrusively that they might not even have noticed her had it not been for her white dress.

With a retiring but composed air, she took a chair behind Inspector Agnew, and sat down to listen.

H.M. stared at her.

'Oi!' he said, not gallantly. 'Oi!'

'This is Miss Browning, Sir Henry, that I told you about,' Agnew explained. 'She's Colonel Race's private secretary. She's got the colonel's permission to be here, to report to him personally.'

H.M.'s face grew apoplectic.

'Oh, she has, has she?'

'I do hope I'm not intruding,'' said Ann, in an anxious voice which would have mollified anyone. 'And I won't bother you; really I won't. If you don't mind my just sitting and listening?'

'Besides, sir, since you've got your own private secretary with you,' continued Agnew, nodding towards Courtney and the notebook in Courtney's pocket..

'I'm not—' snarled Courtney.