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<h2> CHAPTER XV </h2>
<p>After a busy and sleepless night he came down to report to the Chief
Commissioner the next morning. The evening newspaper bills were filled
with the “Chelsea Sensation” but the information given was of a meagre
character.</p>
<p>Since Fisher had disappeared, many of the details which could have been
secured by the enterprising pressmen were missing. There was no reference
to the visit of Mr. Gathercole and in self-defence the press had fallen
back upon a statement, which at an earlier period had crept into the
newspapers in one of those chatty paragraphs which begin “I saw my friend
Kara at Giros” and end with a brief but inaccurate summary of his hobbies.
The paragraph had been to the effect that Mr. Kara had been in fear of his
life for some time, as a result of a blood feud which existed between
himself and another Albanian family. Small wonder, therefore, the murder
was everywhere referred to as “the political crime of the century.”</p>
<p>“So far,” reported T. X. to his superior, “I have been unable to trace
either Gathercole or the valet. The only thing we know about Gathercole is
that he sent his article to The Times with his card. The servants of his
Club are very vague as to his whereabouts. He is a very eccentric man, who
only comes in occasionally, and the steward whom I interviewed says that
it frequently happened that Gathercole arrived and departed without
anybody being aware of the fact. We have been to his old lodgings in
Lincoln's Inn, but apparently he sold up there before he went away to the
wilds of Patagonia and relinquished his tenancy.</p>
<p>“The only clue I have is that a man answering to some extent to his
description left by the eleven o'clock train for Paris last night.”</p>
<p>“You have seen the secretary of course,” said the Chief.</p>
<p>It was a question which T. X. had been dreading.</p>
<p>“Gone too,” he answered shortly; “in fact she has not been seen since 5:30
yesterday evening.”</p>
<p>Sir George leant back in his chair and rumpled his thick grey hair.</p>
<p>“The only person who seems to have remained,” he said with heavy sarcasm,
“was Kara himself. Would you like me to put somebody else on this case—it
isn't exactly your job—or will you carry it on?”</p>
<p>“I prefer to carry it on, sir,” said T. X. firmly.</p>
<p>“Have you found out anything more about Kara?”</p>
<p>T. X. nodded.</p>
<p>“All that I have discovered about him is eminently discreditable,” he
said. “He seems to have had an ambition to occupy a very important
position in Albania. To this end he had bribed and subsidized the Turkish
and Albanian officials and had a fairly large following in that country.
Bartholomew tells me that Kara had already sounded him as to the
possibility of the British Government recognising a fait accompli in
Albania and had been inducing him to use his influence with the Cabinet to
recognize the consequence of any revolution. There is no doubt whatever
that Kara has engineered all the political assassinations which have been
such a feature in the news from Albania during this past year. We also
found in the house very large sums of money and documents which we have
handed over to the Foreign Office for decoding.”</p>
<p>Sir George thought for a long time.</p>
<p>Then he said, “I have an idea that if you find your secretary you will be
half way to solving the mystery.”</p>
<p>T. X. went out from the office in anything but a joyous mood. He was on
his way to lunch when he remembered his promise to call upon John Lexman.</p>
<p>Could Lexman supply a key which would unravel this tragic tangle? He leant
out of his taxi-cab and redirected the driver. It happened that the cab
drove up to the door of the Great Midland Hotel as John Lexman was coming
out.</p>
<p>“Come and lunch with me,” said T. X. “I suppose you've heard all the
news.”</p>
<p>“I read about Kara being killed, if that's what you mean,” said the other.
“It was rather a coincidence that I should have been discussing the matter
last night at the very moment when his telephone bell rang—I wish to
heaven you hadn't been in this,” he said fretfully.</p>
<p>“Why?” asked the astonished Assistant Commissioner, “and what do you mean
by 'in it'?”</p>
<p>“In the concrete sense I wish you had not been present when I returned,”
said the other moodily, “I wanted to be finished with the whole sordid
business without in any way involving my friends.”</p>
<p>“I think you are too sensitive,” laughed the other, clapping him on the
shoulder. “I want you to unburden yourself to me, my dear chap, and tell
me anything you can that will help me to clear up this mystery.”</p>
<p>John Lexman looked straight ahead with a worried frown.</p>
<p>“I would do almost anything for you, T. X.,” he said quietly, “the more so
since I know how good you were to Grace, but I can't help you in this
matter. I hated Kara living, I hate him dead,” he cried, and there was a
passion in his voice which was unmistakable; “he was the vilest thing that
ever drew the breath of life. There was no villainy too despicable, no
cruelty so horrid but that he gloried in it. If ever the devil were
incarnate on earth he took the shape and the form of Remington Kara. He
died too merciful a death by all accounts. But if there is a God, this man
will suffer for his crimes in hell through all eternity.”</p>
<p>T. X. looked at him in astonishment. The hate in the man's face took his
breath away. Never before had he experienced or witnessed such a vehemence
of loathing.</p>
<p>“What did Kara do to you?” he demanded.</p>
<p>The other looked out of the window.</p>
<p>“I am sorry,” he said in a milder tone; “that is my weakness. Some day I
will tell you the whole story but for the moment it were better that it
were not told. I will tell you this,” he turned round and faced the
detective squarely, “Kara tortured and killed my wife.”</p>
<p>T. X. said no more.</p>
<p>Half way through lunch he returned indirectly to the subject.</p>
<p>“Do you know Gathercole?” he asked.</p>
<p>T. X. nodded.</p>
<p>“I think you asked me that question once before, or perhaps it was
somebody else. Yes, I know him, rather an eccentric man with an artificial
arm.”</p>
<p>“That's the cove,” said T. X. with a little sigh; “he's one of the few men
I want to meet just now.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because he was apparently the last man to see Kara alive.”</p>
<p>John Lexman looked at the other with an impatient jerk of his shoulders.</p>
<p>“You don't suspect Gathercole, do you?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Hardly,” said the other drily; “in the first place the man that committed
this murder had two hands and needed them both. No, I only want to ask
that gentleman the subject of his conversation. I also want to know who
was in the room with Kara when Gathercole went in.”</p>
<p>“H'm,” said John Lexman.</p>
<p>“Even if I found who the third person was, I am still puzzled as to how
they got out and fastened the heavy latch behind them. Now in the old
days, Lexman,” he said good humouredly, “you would have made a fine
mystery story out of this. How would you have made your man escape?”</p>
<p>Lexman thought for a while.</p>
<p>“Have you examined the safe!” he asked.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the other.</p>
<p>“Was there very much in it?”</p>
<p>T. X. looked at him in astonishment.</p>
<p>“Just the ordinary books and things. Why do you ask?”</p>
<p>“Suppose there were two doors to that safe, one on the outside of the room
and one on the inside, would it be possible to pass through the safe and
go down the wall?”</p>
<p>“I have thought of that,” said T. X.</p>
<p>“Of course,” said Lexman, leaning back and toying with a salt-spoon, “in
writing a story where one hasn't got to deal with the absolute
possibilities, one could always have made Kara have a safe of that
character in order to make his escape in the event of danger. He might
keep a rope ladder stored inside, open the back door, throw out his ladder
to a friend and by some trick arrangement could detach the ladder and
allow the door to swing to again.”</p>
<p>“A very ingenious idea,” said T. X., “but unfortunately it doesn't work in
this case. I have seen the makers of the safe and there is nothing very
eccentric about it except the fact that it is mounted as it is. Can you
offer another suggestion?”</p>
<p>John Lexman thought again.</p>
<p>“I will not suggest trap doors, or secret panels or anything so banal,” he
said, “nor mysterious springs in the wall which, when touched, reveal
secret staircases.”</p>
<p>He smiled slightly.</p>
<p>“In my early days, I must confess, I was rather keen upon that sort of
thing, but age has brought experience and I have discovered the
impossibility of bringing an architect to one's way of thinking even in so
commonplace a matter as the position of a scullery. It would be much more
difficult to induce him to construct a house with double walls and secret
chambers.”</p>
<p>T. X. waited patiently.</p>
<p>“There is a possibility, of course,” said Lexman slowly, “that the steel
latch may have been raised by somebody outside by some ingenious magnetic
arrangement and lowered in a similar manner.”</p>
<p>“I have thought about it,” said T. X. triumphantly, “and I have made the
most elaborate tests only this morning. It is quite impossible to raise
the steel latch because once it is dropped it cannot be raised again
except by means of the knob, the pulling of which releases the catch which
holds the bar securely in its place. Try another one, John.”</p>
<p>John Lexman threw back his head in a noiseless laugh.</p>
<p>“Why I should be helping you to discover the murderer of Kara is beyond my
understanding,” he said, “but I will give you another theory, at the same
time warning you that I may be putting you off the track. For God knows I
have more reason to murder Kara than any man in the world.”</p>
<p>He thought a while.</p>
<p>“The chimney was of course impossible?”</p>
<p>“There was a big fire burning in the grate,” explained T. X.; “so big
indeed that the room was stifling.”</p>
<p>John Lexman nodded.</p>
<p>“That was Kara's way,” he said; “as a matter of fact I know the suggestion
about magnetism in the steel bar was impossible, because I was friendly
with Kara when he had that bar put in and pretty well know the mechanism,
although I had forgotten it for the moment. What is your own theory, by
the way?”</p>
<p>T. X. pursed his lips.</p>
<p>“My theory isn't very clearly formed,” he said cautiously, “but so far as
it goes, it is that Kara was lying on the bed probably reading one of the
books which were found by the bedside when his assailant suddenly came
upon him. Kara seized the telephone to call for assistance and was
promptly killed.”</p>
<p>Again there was silence.</p>
<p>“That is a theory,” said John Lexman, with his curious deliberation of
speech, “but as I say I refuse to be definite—have you found the
weapon?”</p>
<p>T. X. shook his head.</p>
<p>“Were there any peculiar features about the room which astonished you, and
which you have not told me?”</p>
<p>T. X. hesitated.</p>
<p>“There were two candles,” he said, “one in the middle of the room and one
under the bed. That in the middle of the room was a small Christmas
candle, the one under the bed was the ordinary candle of commerce
evidently roughly cut and probably cut in the room. We found traces of
candle chips on the floor and it is evident to me that the portion which
was cut off was thrown into the fire, for here again we have a trace of
grease.”</p>
<p>Lexman nodded.</p>
<p>“Anything further?” he asked.</p>
<p>“The smaller candle was twisted into a sort of corkscrew shape.”</p>
<p>“The Clue of the Twisted Candle,” mused John Lexman “that's a very good
title—Kara hated candles.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>Lexman leant back in his chair, selected a cigarette from a silver case.</p>
<p>“In my wanderings,” he said, “I have been to many strange places. I have
been to the country which you probably do not know, and which the
traveller who writes books about countries seldom visits. There are queer
little villages perched on the spurs of the bleakest hills you ever saw. I
have lived with communities which acknowledge no king and no government.
These have their laws handed down to them from father to son—it is a
nation without a written language. They administer their laws rigidly and
drastically. The punishments they award are cruel—inhuman. I have
seen, the woman taken in adultery stoned to death as in the best Biblical
traditions, and I have seen the thief blinded.”</p>
<p>T. X. shivered.</p>
<p>“I have seen the false witness stand up in a barbaric market place whilst
his tongue was torn from him. Sometimes the Turks or the piebald
governments of the state sent down a few gendarmes and tried a sort of
sporadic administration of the country. It usually ended in the
representative of the law lapsing into barbarism, or else disappearing
from the face of the earth, with a whole community of murderers eager to
testify, with singular unanimity, to the fact that he had either committed
suicide or had gone off with the wife of one of the townsmen.</p>
<p>“In some of these communities the candle plays a big part. It is not the
candle of commerce as you know it, but a dip made from mutton fat. Strap
three between the fingers of your hands and keep the hand rigid with two
flat pieces of wood; then let the candles burn down lower and lower—can
you imagine? Or set a candle in a gunpowder trail and lead the trail to a
well-oiled heap of shavings thoughtfully heaped about your naked feet. Or
a candle fixed to the shaved head of a man—there are hundreds of
variations and the candle plays a part in all of them. I don't know which
Kara had cause to hate the worst, but I know one or two that he has
employed.”</p>
<p>“Was he as bad as that?” asked T. X.</p>
<p>John Lexman laughed.</p>
<p>“You don't know how bad he was,” he said.</p>
<p>Towards the end of the luncheon the waiter brought a note in to T. X.
which had been sent on from his office.</p>
<p>“Dear Mr. Meredith,</p>
<p>“In answer to your enquiry I believe my daughter is in London, but I did
not know it until this morning. My banker informs me that my daughter
called at the bank this morning and drew a considerable sum of money from
her private account, but where she has gone and what she is doing with the
money I do not know. I need hardly tell you that I am very worried about
this matter and I should be glad if you could explain what it is all
about.”</p>
<p>It was signed “William Bartholomew.”</p>
<p>T. X. groaned.</p>
<p>“If I had only had the sense to go to the bank this morning, I should have
seen her,” he said. “I'm going to lose my job over this.”</p>
<p>The other looked troubled.</p>
<p>“You don't seriously mean that.”</p>
<p>“Not exactly,” smiled T. X., “but I don't think the Chief is very pleased
with me just now. You see I have butted into this business without any
authority—it isn't exactly in my department. But you have not given
me your theory about the candles.”</p>
<p>“I have no theory to offer,” said the other, folding up his serviette;
“the candles suggest a typical Albanian murder. I do not say that it was
so, I merely say that by their presence they suggest a crime of this
character.”</p>
<p>With this T. X. had to be content.</p>
<p>If it were not his business to interest himself in commonplace murder—though
this hardly fitted such a description—it was part of the peculiar
function which his department exercised to restore to Lady Bartholomew a
certain very elaborate snuff-box which he discovered in the safe.</p>
<p>Letters had been found amongst his papers which made clear the part which
Kara had played. Though he had not been a vulgar blackmailer he had
retained his hold, not only upon this particular property of Lady
Bartholomew, but upon certain other articles which were discovered, with
no other object, apparently, than to compel influence from quarters likely
to be of assistance to him in his schemes.</p>
<p>The inquest on the murdered man which the Assistant Commissioner attended
produced nothing in the shape of evidence and the coroner's verdict of
“murder against some person or persons unknown” was only to be expected.</p>
<p>T. X. spent a very busy and a very tiring week tracing elusive clues which
led him nowhere. He had a letter from John Lexman announcing the fact that
he intended leaving for the United States. He had received a very good
offer from a firm of magazine publishers in New York and was going out to
take up the appointment.</p>
<p>Meredith's plans were now in fair shape. He had decided upon the line of
action he would take and in the pursuance of this he interviewed his Chief
and the Minister of Justice.</p>
<p>“Yes, I have heard from my daughter,” said that great man uncomfortably,
“and really she has placed me in a most embarrassing position. I cannot
tell you, Mr. Meredith, exactly in what manner she has done this, but I
can assure you she has.”</p>
<p>“Can I see her letter or telegram?” asked T. X.</p>
<p>“I am afraid that is impossible,” said the other solemnly; “she begged me
to keep her communication very secret. I have written to my wife and asked
her to come home. I feel the constant strain to which I am being subjected
is more than human can endure.”</p>
<p>“I suppose,” said T. X. patiently, “it is impossible for you to tell me to
what address you have replied?”</p>
<p>“To no address,” answered the other and corrected himself hurriedly; “that
is to say I only received the telegram—the message this morning and
there is no address—to reply to.”</p>
<p>“I see,” said T. X.</p>
<p>That afternoon he instructed his secretary.</p>
<p>“I want a copy of all the agony advertisements in to-morrow's papers and
in the last editions of the evening papers—have them ready for me
tomorrow morning when I come.”</p>
<p>They were waiting for him when he reached the office at nine o'clock the
next day and he went through them carefully. Presently he found the
message he was seeking.</p>
<p>B. M. You place me awkward position. Very thoughtless. Have received
package addressed your mother which have placed in mother's sitting-room.
Cannot understand why you want me to go away week-end and give servants
holiday but have done so. Shall require very full explanation. Matter gone
far enough. Father.</p>
<p>“This,” said T. X. exultantly, as he read the advertisement, “is where I
get busy.”</p>
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