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out if they had a visitor who slept there on Monday night。 A stranger。 If
so； then any particulars you can get of him； without letting the landlord
know that you are interested …〃
〃Leave it to me；〃 broke in Bill。 〃I know just what you want。〃
〃Don't assume that it was Robert … or anybody else。 Let them
describe the man to you。 Don't influence them unconsciously by
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suggesting that he was short or tall； or anything of that sort。 Just get them
talking。 If it's the landlord； you'd better stand him a drink or two。〃
〃Right you are；〃 said Bill confidently。 〃Where do I meet you again？〃
〃Probably at the 'George。' If you get there before me； you can order
dinner for eight o'clock。 Anyhow we'll meet at eight； if not before。〃
〃Good。〃 He nodded to Antony and strode off back to Stanton again。
Antony stood watching him with a little smile at his enthusiasm。 Then
he looked round slowly； as if in search of something。 Suddenly he saw
what he wanted。 Twenty yards farther on a lane wandered off to the left；
and there was a gate a little way up on the right…hand side of it。 Antony
walked to the gate； filling his pipe as he went。 Then he lit his pipe； sat on
the gate； and took his head in his hands。
〃Now then；〃 he said to himself； 〃let's begin at the beginning。〃
It was nearly eight o'clock when William Beverley； the famous sleuthhound； arrived； tired and dusty； at the 〃George；〃 to find Antony； cool and
clean； standing bare…headed at the door； waiting for him。
〃Is dinner ready？〃 were Bill's first words。
〃Yes。〃
〃Then I'll just have a wash。 Lord； I'm tired。〃
〃I never ought to have asked you；〃 said Antony penitently。
〃That's all right。 I shan't be a moment。〃 Half…way up the stairs he
turned round and asked； 〃Am I in your room？〃
〃Yes。 Do you know the way？〃
〃Yes。 Start carving； will you？ And order lots of beer。〃 He
disappeared round the top of the staircase。 Antony went slowly in。
When the first edge of his appetite had worn off； and he was able to
spare a little time between the mouthfuls； Bill gave an account of his
adventures。 The landlord of the 〃Plough and Horses〃 had been sticky；
decidedly sticky … Bill had been unable at first to get anything out of him。
But Bill had been tactful； lorblessyou； how tactful he had been。
〃He kept on about the inquest； and what a queer affair it had been； and
so on； and how there'd been an inquest in his wife's family once； which he
seemed rather proud about； and I kept saying； 'Pretty busy； I suppose； just
now； what？' and then he'd say； 'Middlin'；' and go on again about Susan
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The Red House Mystery
that was the one that had the inquest … he talked about it as if it were a
disease … and then I'd try again； and say； 'Slack times； I expect； just now；
eh？' and he'd say 'Middlin' again； and then it was time to offer him another
drink； and I didn't seem to be getting much nearer。 But I got him at last。
I asked him if he knew John Borden … he was the man who said he'd seen
Mark at the station。 Well； he knew all about Borden； and after he'd told
me all about Borden's wife's family； and how one of them had been burnt
to death … after you with the beer； thanks … well； then I said carelessly that
it must be very hard to remember anybody whom you had just seen once；
so as to identify him afterwards； and he agreed that it would be 'middlin'
hard；' and then …〃
〃Give me three guesses；〃 interrupted Antony。 〃You asked him if he
remembered everybody who came to his inn？〃
〃That's it。 Bright； wasn't it？〃
〃Brilliant。 And what was the result？〃
〃The result was a woman。〃
〃A woman？〃 said Antony eagerly。
〃A woman；〃 said Bill impressively。 〃Of course I thought it was going
to be Robert … so did you； didn't you？ … but it wasn't。 It was a woman。
Came quite late on Monday night in a car … driving herself … went off early
next morning。〃
〃Did he describe her？〃
〃Yes。 She was middlin'。 Middlin' tall； middlin' age； middlin' colour；
and so on。 Doesn't help much； does it？ But still … a woman。 Does that
upset your theory？〃
Antony shook his head。
〃No； Bill； not at all；〃 he said。
〃You knew all the time？ At least； you guessed？〃
〃Wait till to…morrow。 I'll tell you everything to…morrow。〃
〃To…morrow！〃 said Bill in great disappointment。
〃Well； I'll tell you one thing to…night； if you'll promise not to ask any
more questions。 But you probably know it already。〃
〃What is it？〃
〃Only that Mark Albett did not kill his brother。〃
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〃And Cayley did？〃
〃That's another question； Bill。 However； the answer is that Cayley
didn't； either。〃
〃Then who on earth …〃
〃Have some more beer；〃 said Antony with a smile。 And Bill had to
be content with that。
They were early to bed that evening； for both of them were tired。 Bill
slept loudly and defiantly； but Antony lay awake； wondering。 What was
happening at the Red House now？ Perhaps he would hear in the morning；
perhaps he would get a letter。 He went over the whole story again from
the beginning … was there any possibility of a mistake？ What would the
police do？ Would they ever find out？ Ought he to have told them？ Well；
let them find out； it was their job。 Surely he couldn't have made a
mistake this time。 No good wondering now； he would know definitely in
the morning。
In the morning there was a letter for him。
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CHAPTER XXI
Cayley's Apology
〃My Dear Mr。 Gillingham；
〃I gather from your letter that you have made certain discoveries
which you may feel it your duty to communicate to the police； and that in
this case my arrest on a charge of murder would inevitably follow。 Why；
in these circumstances； you should give me such ample warning of your
intentions I do not understand； unless it is that you are not wholly out of
sympathy with me。 But whether or not you sympathize； at any rate you
will want to know … and I want you to know … the exact manner in which
Ablett met his death and the reasons which made that death necessary。 If
the police have to be told anything； I would rather that they too knew the
whole story。 They； and even you； may call it murder； but by that time I
shall be out of the way。 Let them call it what they like。
〃I must begin by taking you back to a summer day fifteen years ago；
when I was a boy of thirteen and Mark a young man of twenty…five。 His
whole life was make…believe； and just now he was pretending to be a
philanthropist。 He sat in our little drawing…room； flicking his gloves
against the back of his left hand； and my mother； good soul； thought what
a noble young gentleman he was； and Philip and I； hastily washed and
crammed into collars； stood in front of him； nudging each other and
kicking the backs of our heels and cursing him in our hearts for having
interrupted our game。 He had decided to adopt one of us； kind Cousin
Mark。 Heaven knows why he chose me。 Philip was eleven； two years
longer to wait。 Perhaps that was why。
〃Well； Mark educated me。 I went to a public school and to
Cambridge； and I became his secretary。 Well； much more than his
secretary as your friend Beverley perhaps has told you： his land agent； his
financial adviser； his courier； his …but this most of all … his audience。
Mark could never live alone。 There must always be somebody to listen
to him。 I think in his heart he hoped I should be his Boswell。 He told
me one day that he had made me his literary executor … poor devil。 And
he used to write me the absurdest long letters when I was away from him；
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letters which I read once and then tore up。 The futility of the man！
〃It was three years ago that Philip got into trouble。 He had been
hurried through a cheap grammar school and into a London office； and
discovered there that there was not much fun to be got in this world on
two pounds a week。 I had a frantic letter from him one day； saying that
he must have a hundred at once； or he would be ruined； and I went to
Mark for the money。 Only to borrow it； you understand； he gave me a
good salary and I could have paid it back in three months。 But no。 He
saw nothing for himself in it； I suppose； no applause； no admiration。
Philip's gratitude would be to me； not to him。 I begged； I threatened； we
argued； and while we were arguing； Philip was arrested。 It killed my
mother … he was always her favourite … but Mark； as usual； got his
satisfaction out of it。 He preened himself on his judgment of character in
having chosen me and not Philip twelve years before！
〃Later on I apologized to Mark for the reckless things I had said to him；
and he played the part of a magnanimous gentleman with his accustomed
skill； but； though outwardly we were as before to each other； from that day
forward； though his vanity would never let him see it； I was his bitterest
enemy。 If that had been all； I wonder if I should have killed him？ To
live on terms of intimate friendship with a man whom you hate is
dangerous work for your friend。 Because of his belief i