Christopher Quarles: College Professor and Master Detective Read online

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE MYSTERY OF CROSS ROADS FARM

  We said nothing to the professor about the understanding we had cometo. In his presence--and I had little opportunity of seeing Zena atany other time--we behaved toward each other as we had always done,and I did not think he had any idea of our secret. Personally, I feltthe effects of my horrible experience in the Tudor room for some time,which I think accounts for my not doing myself justice in the nextcase I was called upon to undertake.

  Let me recount the facts of this complex affair, which I take from theevidence given at the trial of Richard Coleman.

  Cross Roads Farm, lying about a mile outside the village of Hanley, inSussex, was owned by two brothers, Peter and Simon Judd.

  They were twins, middle-aged, devoted to each other, and somewhateccentric. Peter was well known to everybody. He went to market, paidthe bills, and interviewed people when necessary. Simon seldom leftthe farm, and was little known in the neighborhood. They lived simply,had no servants in the house, and the villagers declared they musthave been saving money for years. Mrs. Gilson, a widow in the village,went up to the farm daily, but was never there after eight o'clock.

  At night the Judds were alone in the house. They never had visitors,they retired early, and their only known recreation was a game ofchess before going to bed. No one, except Mrs. Gilson, and, onoccasion, her son Jim, who was an "innocent," had been known to take ameal in their house. For Jim Gilson both brothers showed a pityingaffection, and he came and went much as he liked, earning a fewshillings by doing any odd job of which he was capable.

  One evening in November Mrs. Gilson was returning from the farmconsiderably earlier than usual, when she met a man, a stranger, anunusual occurrence in a neighborhood where she knew everybody.

  Next morning, on going to the farm, the blinds in the upper windowswere not drawn as usual, a thing she had never known to happen before.The back door was generally standing open when she arrived; to-day itwas shut, but was on the latch, and she entered, to come face to facewith a tragedy.

  In front of the fireplace in the sitting-room Peter Judd, clothed onlyin his pajamas, was lying face downward--dead! A small table on whichthe chessboard had stood was overturned, and the chessmen werescattered about the floor. There was no sign of his brother, but,wherever he was, it appeared that he too must be in his pajamas, forhis bed had been slept in and his clothes were on a chair.

  The doctor said that during the night Peter Judd had been strangled,marks of fingers being visible on his throat. Probably he had beenseized from behind, and the shock of the attack had possiblyaccelerated his death, for he had apparently made little struggle todefend himself.

  Police investigation, however, soon proved that a struggle had takenplace in the house. On an upper landing the furniture was indisorder, and a piece of torn material, which Mrs. Gilson identifiedas belonging to pajamas which Simon Judd wore, was found. Another tornshred was found in the kitchen, where the table had been pushed out ofits place. In the yard outside was a well-house. The door of this,which was always locked, had been forced, and caught by a splinter ofwood was a third shred of the pajamas. On the floor of the shed was anold slipper, also belonging to Simon Judd, Mrs. Gilson said.

  The well was dragged, with no result, which hardly astonished theneighborhood, for it was of immense depth, and tapped an undergroundpit of water, according to common report.

  Then came Mrs. Gilson's story of the man she had met on the previousevening, and her description was so definite that within a few days ane'er-do-well, Richard Coleman, was traced, and subsequently arrested.It was proved by more than one witness that he had been in Hanley thatday, apparently on the tramp, and with no money, yet two days afterthe murder he was spending money freely in Guildford.

  At first Coleman denied all knowledge of Cross Roads Farm, butafterward admitted that he had been there. The Judds were his uncles.He had not seen them for years, and had gone to ask for help. Hewasn't in the house an hour, he declared, and said that his uncles hadgiven him twenty pounds, for their dead sister's sake. They had alsogiven him a lecture on idleness, and sent him about his business.There had been no quarrel, and he knew nothing about the tragedy.

  That he was the Judds' nephew was true, but for the rest of his story,no one believed it. The fact that he had denied all knowledge of CrossRoads Farm was strong evidence against him. He was brought to trial,and found guilty. His record was a bad one, yet the counsel'seloquence so impressed the jury that he was recommended to mercy, withthe result that the death penalty was commuted to penal servitude forlife.

  Of this tragedy I knew nothing when Cross Roads Farm became the sceneof a second mystery.

  For five years--that is, since the death of the Judds--the house hadbeen shut up. Neither of the brothers had made a will apparently; theyhad no solicitor, no banker. Either their wealth had been stolen byColeman, and safely concealed by him before his arrest, or it existedonly in the village imagination, or it remained hidden on thepremises. The last, being the most romantic idea, found the greatestfavor; but the possibility of treasure trove had not induced anyone totake the farm. The gardens grew into a tangle, through which the upperpart of the house began to show signs of ruin. It was an uncanny spot,which people passed with apprehension at night, and looked askance ateven in the daytime.

  The only person who appeared to have no dread of the place was JimGilson. During the last five years he had grown rather more incapable.Physically he was a powerful man, mentally he was a baby; and wheneverhe could elude his mother's watchfulness he ran off eagerly to thefarm and sat just inside the gate. Passers-by often saw him there, butwhether he ever penetrated further over the uncanny ground was notknown.

  Sudden and unusual excitement on Jim's part led to the discovery ofthe second tragedy. There was another dead man at Cross Roads Farm,Jim declared, first to his mother and then to everyone he met. Theconstable, with others, went there, and it was found that Gilson hadspoken the truth.

  A tramp, dirty and unshaven, clothed in rags, lay face downward on thesitting-room floor. The doctor who had been called to Peter Judd cameagain. The tramp was lying in exactly the same position as Peter Juddhad lain, the limbs stretched almost identically as his had been, andon his throat were similar finger-marks. The only difference thedoctor could suggest was that the tramp seemed to have been seizedfrom the front, whereas, he believed, Judd had been attacked frombehind. It was a suggestion more than a conviction.

  It was natural, perhaps, that in Hanley people began to attribute bothdeaths to supernatural agency. Certainly there were curious points inthe case, but it seemed to me that I had had harder problems to solve.

  First, I made myself acquainted with the evidence which had been givenat Richard Coleman's trial. I know that to read evidence is not thesame thing as hearing it, but one or two points struck me forcibly.Why had Coleman been recommended to mercy? True, his counsel's addresshad been an eloquent one, but if the prisoner were guilty surely therecould be no extenuating circumstances in such a dastardly crime. Theevidence was strongly against Coleman, yet in spite of this the juryhad recommended him to mercy. Was there a doubt in their minds? Do wenot all know that subtle doubt which comes even hand in hand with whatwe believe is conviction? There have been times with us all when wehave given judgment and immediately began to doubt that judgment.Unless something of this sort had happened to this jury, I could notunderstand the recommendation to mercy.

  Again, I was not satisfied with the assumption that Simon Judd's deadbody had been thrown into the well. The well was certainly of immensedepth, and possibly tapped an underground cave full of water, whichmight account for the futility of dragging operations; but the shredof pajamas and the slipper found in the shed were not of themselvessufficient evidence that the body had been got rid of in this way.Even with the other signs of struggle in the house the evidence wasnot conclusive. Simon Judd might be alive, in which case he might bethe murderer.

  Such an hypothe
sis was, however, unlikely. The brothers were devotedto each other, as twins often are; the overturned chessboard provedthat normal relations had existed between them that evening, that theyhad played their usual game before retiring. If Simon Judd was dead,and his body was not in the well, where was it? Hidden securely, atany rate, and therefore, presumably, by someone who knew the farmwell, which Richard Coleman did not.

  Again, why had the murderer troubled to hide only one body?

  Another point which struck me as curious was the wonderful accuracy ofMrs. Gilson's description of Richard Coleman. It was nearly dark whenshe met him; in passing she could have little opportunity to examinehim closely, yet her description was sufficient to lead to his arrest.

  These considerations set me speculating and, with more excitement thanwas usual with me, I set to work to see how far my speculations weresupported by facts. To begin with, I had an interview with RichardColeman in prison. I did not tell him of the new tragedy at the farm;I merely said that some new facts had come to light, and that if heanswered my questions it might be to his ultimate benefit.

  "A man unjustly imprisoned does not easily believe that," he returned.

  However, he told me his version of the story, exactly as he had toldit at his trial.

  "Do you remember meeting Mrs. Gilson?" I asked.

  "Not particularly."

  "You didn't stop and ask her the way?"

  "No. I met two or three people on the way to the farm. They didn'tinterest me, and I had no reason to suppose that I interested them."

  "Why did you deny knowing anything about Cross Roads Farm?"

  "Well, one way and another there was a good deal against me at thetime. It was natural to deny a leading statement like that made by thepolice, and I knew nothing about the murder then. You see, although Iwas innocent of murder, I wasn't an innocent man. I was in a hole, andattempted to lie myself out of it."

  "Very foolish! It was a weighty argument against you. Did you seeanyone else at the farm beside your uncles?"

  "It was true what I said at the trial, that one of the workmen hadjust finished talking to my uncles at the door as I came in. The mangave evidence, said he had parted with the Judds much as I described,but that he had not seen me. I thought he said that to try and help mea bit, because I'm certain he saw me."

  "Do you think it was the same man?"

  "I didn't doubt that it was, but I couldn't have sworn to him; I wastoo much engaged in taking stock of the two men I had come to ask forhelp."

  "Did you ask for work?"

  "No, money."

  "Did you demand any special sum?"

  "No; and I didn't demand it, I asked. I was playing the penitent game,the prodigal anxious to reform. Had I demanded I should have gotnothing. I had sized up my men all right. I got twenty pounds, whichwas far more than I expected. I hadn't had such a sum to my name foryears."

  "Was the money given willingly?"

  "Not exactly willingly. My Uncle Peter did most of thetalking--lecturing it was--but he seemed more impressed with my talethan Uncle Simon did. Simon Judd had a good many reasons why I shouldnot have the money, but it was evident that Peter usually had the lastword and his own way. I should say he took the lead in most things."

  "Did he actually give you the money?"

  "Yes, counting it into my hand quid by quid, as if he'd been partingwith a fortune."

  "Where did he get it from? Did he take it out of his pocket?"

  "No; he went out of the room, leaving me with Simon, who didn't speaka word the whole time. Peter Judd was away about ten minutes. He cameback with the money in his hand."

  "And then you left the farm?"

  "Yes; they didn't offer me anything to eat or drink. I have an ideathat Peter thought of doing so, but Simon made some remark aboutthrowing money away, and suggested my going at once."

  "You didn't return to Hanley?"

  "No, I went in the opposite direction."

  Next day I was back at the farm, my attention concentrated on thewell. I had already heard that this well was not much used, therebeing another under the scullery, to which a pump had been fixed, andwhich supplied better water. The windlass over the well in the shedsubstantiated this statement, for it was evident that it had stoodidle for a long time.

  Peter Judd had left the room to get the money, and had been absent tenminutes; and the door of this shed had been found forced on themorning after the murder. Might the shed not be the treasure chamber?

  The floor overlapped the mouth of the well considerably, and attachedto the under part of this floor, and close to the well wall, I found achain. Pulling this up, I raised a small but stout iron box fastenedto the lower end of it. The box had been wrenched open and was empty.I had discovered the Judds' bank. No doubt it had been robbed on thenight of the murder. By whom? By someone who had watched Peter Judd gothere for the money. The answer came naturally to the question. Thatperson was not Richard Coleman, unless his story were false frombeginning to end, which was unlikely.

  The next two days I devoted to a closer acquaintance with Mrs. Gilson.I acted intentionally in a manner to make her think I had nearlysolved the mystery. I told her that I believed Richard Coleman was aninnocent man. The result was exactly what I expected. She becamenervous when I plied her with questions, and contradicted herself,growing confused when I pressed home a point. Once I purposelyquestioned her when her son was present, and her confusion becamefear. Jim Gilson said little, but at times looked wonderfullyintelligent. It was difficult to suppose that he did not perfectlyunderstand me.

  "You don't go and sit inside the gateway at Cross Roads Farm now,Jim," I said suddenly. Since this second discovery he had quiteforsaken his haunt.

  "No," he answered.

  "Why not?"

  "No one else will come there now. They're afraid."

  "Of what?"

  "Spirits."

  "And of you, Jim--eh?"

  The suggestion pleased him. He came and stood close to me, and rolledup his sleeve to show me how muscular his arms were.

  "Splendid! Tell me, Jim, where is Simon Judd?"

  "Buried!" he said, and slouched out of the room.

  I looked at his mother. Poor woman! I pitied her.

  "I didn't know--I didn't guess, not till afterward," she said. "Jimtold me next day that he had seen a man go to the farm, told me whathe was like, and I knew it was the man I had met. It was more Jim'sdescription than mine that I gave. But I thought this man was themurderer, thought so for months, until Jim began to talk strange aboutmoney and that well. It was not until then that I knew he had been atthe farm that night. And now this second murder! What will they do?"

  "Release an innocent man."

  "But to Jim?" she whispered.

  "Find him not responsible for his actions, most likely. You ought tohave spoken, Mrs. Gilson. An innocent man is in prison. They arelikely to be severe with you."

  "I don't care what happens to me; it's Jim I care about."

  Later in the day I tried to get Jim to show me where Simon Judd wasburied. He only laughed.

  "And the money, Jim--what has become of it?"

  Still his only answer was a laugh.

  "By sitting at the gate you kept watch over it, I suppose? Had itsomewhere close by, where you could get at it to play with; and whenthis tramp came you thought he would rob you. Is that the story?"

  "It's all right now," he said solemnly.

  My course was clear. Jim Gilson must be arrested, and a court ofjustice would have to say whether he was responsible for his actionsor not. Personally, I was not sure that he was as mad as he pretendedto be. The curious disposal of the shreds of pajamas showed cunning, adesire to mislead, or it may be there had been a struggle. PerhapsSimon Judd had fought desperately for his life, and the madman hadburied him, entirely forgetting the dead body of Peter Judd, who hadgiven him no trouble. Possibly he had left it with a purpose;certainly it had helped to convict an innocent man. Who can explaineither the cunning
or forgetfulness of a madman?

  On the evening of the day following the arrest of Jim Gilson Ireceived a telegram from Christopher Quarles, asking me to go to himwithout delay. He was in the empty room, his granddaughter with him.

  "Wigan, this Sussex affair?" were the words with which he greeted me.

  "All over. The murderer was arrested yesterday," I answered.

  I had not seen Quarles for some days, and the case had not beenmentioned between us. His theories would probably have hindered ratherthan helped me.

  "You're wrong, all wrong," he said.

  "My dear professor, nobody knows your ability better than I do, butyou haven't had anything to do with this affair. I assure you----"

  "You may tell me the whole story, if you like, but you're wrong. Youhaven't caught your man."

  "Nonsense," I said angrily.

  "Tell me the story."

  "The newspaper resume of the affair is quite correct," I said.

  "I'd rather hear it from you."

  And, in spite of my annoyance, I told it in answer to an appealingglance from Zena. There was nothing I would not have done to pleaseher.

  "I'll tell you the story in a different way," said Quarles, when I hadfinished, "and you can pull me up if I go outside reason. At thebeginning of this mystery, four or five years ago, I felt no interestin it; now I am impelled to interfere. True, I have taken no activepart in the affair, but with me that is not always necessary. Into myempty brain something has come from outside."

  I smiled. There was something of the charlatan in him.

  "The body of Peter Judd is found," Quarles went on, "his brother'sisn't. Where is it? Down the well? You do not think so, yet by theshred of pajamas and the slipper found there it is desired by someoneto suggest this solution. A well can be made to give up its secrets,as a rule, but not this particular well. This is a point in RichardColeman's favor, since he would not be likely to have any knowledge oflocal lore; and, if you like, it is against Gilson, who might havesuch knowledge. But what possible object could he have in laying sucha misleading trail?"

  "To implicate some other person--the man he had seen join the Judds ashe left them."

  "I am not combating your theory that two men left the Judds in muchthe same manner that night, and that the man who gave evidence at thetrial was not the one Coleman saw. No doubt Coleman saw Gilson; but doyou suggest it was a premeditated crime?"

  "No. Gilson was curious about the visitor, and watched; and while hewaited Peter Judd went to the well, and Gilson saw the gold. Thendesire to possess came to him."

  "So he murdered the two men who had been kind to him. Why?" askedQuarles. "During the night he could have broken open the shed andtaken the gold. The Judds would undoubtedly have jumped to theconclusion that their nephew had robbed them."

  "I should say Gilson's idea was to get the key, hence the murder."

  "And while he was strangling Peter, what was Simon doing? Since Peterwas found in the sitting-room in his pajamas, it is permissible tosuppose that something had aroused him. If it did not arouse Simontoo, Peter would be likely to do so, and at the very least he wouldhave called for help the moment he was attacked."

  "You forget the doctor's evidence," I said. "He was killed by theshock as much as by the man's fingers at his throat."

  "A most important point," said Quarles; "we will come back to it in aminute. Having murdered both the Judds, this imbecile breaks into theshed, because he fails to find the key, I suppose; and having got themoney, is satisfied. He hides one body and leaves the other. He lays afalse trail for no earthly reason, I submit. For months he does notlet fall a word to disturb his mother, but he haunts the gate of thefarm."

  "His mother knows he is guilty, professor; remember that."

  "Did she see him do it? Has he shown her the money?"

  "No."

  "Then, I ask, what made Gilson haunt the farm? The right answer tothat question will put you on the right road. It was Zena whopropounded that question to me."

  "In seeking for motives we must not be too precise in dealing with amadman," I said. "I think his idea was to protect the money which hehad hidden somewhere close at hand."

  "I don't," said Quarles. "He was watching for the man who murderedPeter Judd."

  "Rather a fantastic conclusion, isn't it?" I said.

  "It might be were there no evidence to support it. Let me tell thestory as I imagine it. The twin brothers were much attached to eachother. Few people knew them well; they kept altogether to themselves.From Coleman's statement it would seem that Peter took the lead. Itwas he who went for the money. He appears to have managed all themoney transactions. It may have been merely a division of labor, butthere may have been another reason. Perhaps Simon's temperament was towaste money, and to keep him out of temptation Peter kept the key ofthe treasury."

  "Still a little fantastic, I fancy," I said somewhat contemptuously.

  "Quite true, and we will go a little farther on the same road. We willassume that the sight of gold was not good for the moral welfare ofSimon Judd. So long as he did not see gold he was content to go onhis simple way, but the sight of it set him desiring possession. Thenephew came, and twenty sovereigns were fetched from the treasurychest and displayed before Simon's gloating eyes. There was a suddendesire to possess gold himself. Peter had the key, had a hiding-placefor it, probably; and on this night, thinking of his nephew, was notcareful enough to conceal that hiding-place from his brother, or itmay be he was forgetful, and left the key on the mantelshelf. In thenight he remembered it, or was aroused by some noise, and went down tofind Simon, who was fully dressed, taking the key. Some words may havebeen spoken; Peter may have reasoned with him, but Simon was beyondreason. He attacked his brother, and killed him. The shock of such athing may well have had something to do with Peter's death, as thedoctor suggests. Would shock have had such effect upon him, do yousuppose, had he been attacked by Gilson, an innocent imbecile?"

  I did not answer.

  "Simon at once realized his position. Suspicion must fall upon himunless he was murdered too. So he laid the trail, shreds of hispajamas here and there, and the old slipper. The well would be anexcellent grave for him. He remembered that Gilson saw Coleman arrive;suspicion would fall upon Coleman. Conscience was dead now, he couldtake the gold. So he left Cross Roads Farm, being careful to dresshimself in clothes that probably only his brother knew he possessed,and left his ordinary clothes on the chair in his room."

  "And Gilson?" I asked.

  "No doubt he saw Peter Judd go to the shed, and was fascinated by thesight of the gold; at any rate, he remained there. He would seeColeman leave. That he saw the actual murder is unlikely, did not knowof it until the next day, I should conjecture; but he would see whatSimon Judd did, would see him take the money and go. When he knewPeter Judd was dead, Gilson would guess who had killed him. He wouldsay nothing, because both men had been good to him; but knowing thetwo brothers, being in touch, perhaps, since he is one of God's fools,with a plane of thought which is above the normal man, he waited forSimon Judd's return, and he has not been disappointed."

  "Not disappointed!" I exclaimed.

  "I imagine Simon spent his money riotously, every penny of it,conscience troubling him at times, which trouble he drowned with drinkand drugs; but in the end he was irresistibly drawn back, a tramp,dirty, unrecognizable, except to the eyes expecting him--Gilson's."

  "And then?"

  Quarles paused for a moment.

  "If Gilson watched him closely, as he probably did, he may some day,in a lucid interval, confirm my surmise. I think Simon Judd stoodbefore the lifted veil when he returned to Cross Roads Farm again;that on the spot where so many familiar hours had been spent he sawhis brother once more, and remorse came to him. The gold had gone, yousee. Every detail of that tragic night was recalled in a moment oftime, and, terror seizing him, he clutched himself by the throat andfell dead."

  "I think you are right, dear," Zena said solemnly.

&
nbsp; "But how is it no one knew him?" I asked.

  "Few people did know him, and he had passed through five years ofdebauchery. Find someone who knew of some peculiarity he had. Colemanmight help you here. Gilson knew him. Didn't he tell you Simon Juddwas buried? That would be a day or so after the tramp had been buriedin Hanley."

  This case was certainly one of my failures, although I had to acceptpraise when both Coleman and Gilson were released.

  It happened, too, that Coleman knew that, as a young man, his UncleSimon had undergone an operation, the scar of which the doctor foundon the tramp's body.

  Jim Gilson was never lucid enough to give a detailed account of whathappened when Simon Judd returned to the farm, but piecing togetherstatements he made at intervals there is little doubt that Quarles'ssurmise was not very far from the truth.